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#at least in the ways that matters to them
ellecdc · 20 hours
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oh my god. I love your slytherin reader x marauders!!!! your writing is amazing!!!! could you do like a part three I guess? but like of later in their relationship and the reader has this little first year friend (who she is forced to tutor but she actually likes him but won't admit it) and he reminds her of the boys and the boy just like brings her flowers and chocolates and stuff and the boys see it and James gets all jealous and Sirius is just like "nah just watch mate" and expect the reader to get all annoyed but she doesn't she just doesn't say anything (because she secretly finds the boy sweet and doesn't wanna be mean to the tiny marauder like man) so then they are all in disbelief and pouty
sorry that was very long
hehe...hehehe.....this request is from March 14th 🫢 thank youuuuu for the prompt and sorry for the huge wait..... [also, let this perhaps let people know that I do have old requests saved!]
poly!marauders x fiesty!reader who has an admirer [1.2k words]
p1 // p2 // p3
CW: fem!reader, reader is feisty, Sirius is upset she's not feistier
“I’m not sure if you boys were aware,” Marlene drawled as she plopped herself onto an empty wingback chair in the Gryffindor common room, “but there’s some ickle little first year making moves on your girl.”
Her comment was met by a snort from James, a bark of laughter from Sirius, and an eye roll from Remus. 
“Thoughts and prayers to the first year, then.” James commented, never looking up from the rubik’s cube he was fiddling with as his back rested against Sirius’ folded legs. 
“I don’t know.” Marlene sing-songed. “He seems pretty sweet on her.” 
“Please.” Sirius scoffed. “Our darling girl is the least approachable person in Hogwarts, I hardly believe there’s a wix bold enough to solicit her, let alone a puny little first year.”
“He didn’t have to solicit her, she’s tutoring him.” 
“Honestly, Marls, I’ve never been less concerned about anything in my entire life.” James admitted.
“Could be interesting to watch, yeah?” Sirius offered with a mischievous wink, nudging James with his knee. 
Remus rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, though he did close his book with a mischievous smirk. “Someone should be there to save him from our little viper.” 
“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya!” Marlene laughed as she waved them off, not bothering to hide her devious grin. 
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It didn’t take long for the boys to find you, seeing as you were haunting what you had early on in your schooling dubbed the ‘most superior table’ in the library. You’d told them what made it so, but James had been paying more attention to the way your lips were moving and less on the actual words that were leaving them. 
“Oh Merlin, the poor sod has no clue.” Sirius all but giggled as they crouched behind one of the aisles of books surrounding your table. 
“Not terrible.” They heard you say as you looked over his work, and based on the boy's beaming smile one would assume you’d given him high praise.  “But you’re getting ahead of yourself and not showing your work.”
“Does showing my work matter if the answers are right?” The kid asked, and James couldn’t blame the kid - he’d had many-a-conversations along the same lines over the years. 
You simply lifted his parchment and walloped him over the head for it. “Yes, showing your work matters; you will lose marks if you don’t.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to let you down.” The kid said solemnly, and James’ heart momentarily melted before he realised that was his darling angel that he was putting the moves on. 
He waited for you to groan and call him a rotten toerag, but you simply shook your head and instructed him to do the next question, making sure to show his work this time. 
“Get a load of this kid; she’s gotta be just about ready to hex him.” Sirius murmured. 
“I’m surprised she hasn’t, honestly.” James replied, causing Remus to snicker.
“The two of you have been hexed for less.”
The three were interrupted when the kid let out a theatrical gasp and dropped his quill. “I can’t believe I almost forgot!” He screeched before ripping open his book bag.
After far too long spent searching the inside of his bookbag, the kid withdrew a slightly crumpled rose, letting out a disappointed groan when he saw the state of it. “My astronomy textbook must’ve crushed it.”
“Why do you have a rose in your bag?” You deadpanned, and the kid was right back to beaming again.
“I brought it for you, of course. I picked the prettiest one for the prettiest girl.”
This was it, this was the moment they were here for; Sirius watched eagerly as Remus grimaced, each equally anxious for your no doubt cantankerous response. 
But it never came.
You simply let out a sound bordering a breath, a sigh, and a laugh as you gingerly took the wilted rose between two fingers. 
“Very thoughtful. Please get back to your homework.” Was all you offered him, but the kid seemed no less pleased as he picked up his quill and dutifully returned to his work. 
“What in the buggering fuck?” Sirius hissed, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Remus, but it was too late.
“Can I help you boys?” You drawled, though you never actually looked behind you where your three boyfriends were still hiding. 
“Yes, you can help me.” Sirius barked, storming out from behind the stacks followed closely by James and less closely by Remus who had the grace to look a little shamefaced for his spying. “You can help me understand what the hells all this is!”
“This is called tutoring and studying, Sirius, if you spent any time in a library, it might be more familiar to you.” You offered simply, turning a glare in Remus’ direction when he snorted. 
“Okay, swot, what I mean is why are you hear letting this little dugbog-”
“Sirius!” You chided quickly.
“Oh my gods! And you’re defending him!” Sirius continued shrilly, earning him various shushings from surrounding students. 
James couldn’t help but notice you roll your eyes in exasperation, but he also noticed the faintest hints of a smile dancing on your lips. 
“You’ve done well, Cameron; keep practising, and for the love of Merlin make sure you show your work next time or so help me gods…”
“Yes ma’am!” Cameron replied as he packed up his bag. “See you next week?”
“Just as we always have.” You drawled in a bored tone, though you offered him a smirk as he hustled out of the library. 
“I can’t believe you!” Sirius huffed as he took Cameron’s now vacated seat. 
“Angel…what is the meaning of all this?” James asked earnestly, causing Remus to snort as he had the decency to press a kiss to your hair in greeting. 
“If we’d have known you were meeting with new suitors, dove, we would have insisted on accompanying you to your tutoring sessions.”
“Oh please.” You dismissed. “He’s just a kid.”
“Uhm, and?” Sirius pouted.
“Sweetheart, we’ve seen you jinx a kid for sneezing too closely to you.” Remus reminded you, and your face darkened.
“Germ infested little freaks.”
“There’s our girl.” Sirius exclaimed. “I can’t believe you let him get away with any of that!” 
“He’s harmless.”
“He’s a flirt.” Sirius corrected.
“He’s you.” You shot back, and the three boys all looked at you with various levels of bemusement. 
“I beg your pardon?” James finally asked, and you shook your head as you began packing up your own bag. 
“He’s like a miniature version of the three of you; following me around and being abhorrently affectionate.”
“Well, hey, I think we’re, like, an appropriate amount of affectionate.” James tried. 
“No, it's sort of abhorrent sometimes.” Remus quickly agreed. 
“Babe…” Sirius cooed, causing Remus and James to grimace. “Are you going soft on us!?” 
Your eyes immediately darkened as you glowered at him, and if Sirius’ sudden flinch and the following yelp proved anything, you aimed a tame stinging jinx at him. 
“On the kid? Maybe.” You responded primly. “On the three of you? Jury’s still out.”
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in-class-daydreams · 3 days
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Note: Gojo & the reader are ~40 in this, Sen is 18, and the guy you're seeing (if you don't already know who it is) is aged up accordingly (~30)
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Imagine your and ex-husband Gojo's son Sen finding out you're seeing someone.
"You're going on a date?!" Sen asks in disbelief. "With who?"
You smooth out your outfit and check yourself out in the mirror. This look is one of your best, if you do say so yourself.
"Does it matter?" you ask neutrally. Sen is just mature enough to not blatantly freak out at this revelation, but only just. The less he knows, the better.
"Of course, it matters! I need to know who to hunt down if you disappear!" he replies, hands flying up to fist in his hair. "I need to vet this guy!"
Your ex-husband appears in your bedroom doorway. "Who are we vetting?"
Clenching your prospective clothing in your hands, you grumble, "Doesn't anyone knock any more?"
Satoru leans against the door frame like he's someone's booktok boyfriend (he used to be your booktok husband but that's beside the point). He takes in how you've cleaned up and instantly recognizes your date look. Of course, he's only seen it a million times.
"Oh, the kid didn't know you had boyfriend?" he asks.
"Boyfriend?!" Sen cries. Your temple throbs. "Who is he?"
Satoru shrugs. "I dunno, I just know he exists and his one move is sending flowers because he's basic."
"He's not basic and he is not my boyfriend!" you shout, throwing your hands in the air. "We go on dates, yes. We're seeing each other. 'Boyfriend' implies exclusivity, and none of the people I'm seeing are my boyfriend."
Your son and ex-husband stare at you wide-eyed. As Sen gets older, the black roots of his hair have become his last line of defense against looking like a carbon copy of his dad, and having both a young and old(er) Satoru look at you with their stupid big blue eyes is unsettling. Someone hurry up and blink.
"What?" you ask tiredly.
This time it's Satoru that has something irritating to say. "'People?' As in plural?"
"Satoru, don't start."
Sen raises his hand. "I'm with dad on this one. I don't trust anyone with you, not even dad--"
"Thanks, kid."
"--much less strangers."
Part of you understands that your son and ex-husband are the two people in the world that love you the most. Growing up as isolated as you did, your younger self would never have imagined having the both of them in your life. They're just trying to protect you.
The other part of you is on the verge of telling them both to step the fuck off.
You're all saved by the doorbell ringing and before you can even react, both of them are at the door interrogating whoever's on your porch. But you always met up with your dates instead of them picking you up in case of this exact scenario. There was no way he came to the door without your permission.
Sprinting to the door, you find your son, your ex, and a terrified-looking deliveryman holding a bouquet of flowers. You shoo the boys away from him and accept the flowers with thanks and a generous tip for dealing with them.
There's a handwritten note attached. It reads:
You didn't think I'd let you walk out the house without a present, right? Pretty girls need pretty flowers.
You can't hold in a grin. He always found ways to go above and beyond even without an official label.
"Well, at least he's a sorcerer," Sen says. He gestures to the note, "There's a teeny bit of residual CE on there. Not enough for me to recognize, though."
You try not to make your sigh of relief obvious. Sen was still in training and Sukuna said his ability to recognize specific cursed energy needed some work. Getting advice from his dad would help, but your son got his stubborn streak from you.
"Well, good. I don't need you tracking him down." Handing the flowers to Sen, you ask, "Put these in a vase for mama, please?"
Sen, ever the obedient son, runs off to do so immediately. You fondly watch him round the corner into the kitchen, then double back to grab you and place a kiss on your cheek.
"I don't like this, but please be safe, mama! Call me any time, I'll be there," he says, then returns to his task.
Once he's out of sight, you slip your shoes on, holding Satoru by the shoulder to stabilize yourself.
"I'll be back before 11. There's pasta in the fridge and I just washed the sheets in the guest room if you want to stay over," you tell him. Pulling up the back of your shoe, you look up at Satoru to find him stock still looking past you. You can't see his eyes, but you can tell they're fixed on the card you received.
That's when you remember that while your son may not yet be at full potential, veteran sorcerer, strongest in history Gojo Satoru knows damn well who sent you those flowers.
Shit.
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Click [here] for more of Sen being mean to his dad | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]
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prongsx · 2 days
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Lazy Sundays
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warning: fluff, f!reader, Jason being a cute guy. English its not my first language. established relationship.
Jason had always been an alert person. It was tiring, but he couldn't help it. Life forced him to never rest.
It started when he was still young, he had to be alert so he wouldn't die in the alley of crime, if he made a false move he could end up in a web of crimes and murders. He had to be alert to keep his own mother from self-destruction, had to be constantly checking her breathing, if she had eaten, if she hadn't used her subsistence money for drugs. He learned that being a heavy sleeper was dangerous when his house was shot at and he had to hide under the table, eyes full of tears.
Then Bruce adopted him, but he had already lost part of his ability to be a child, never carefree. And now he had the burden of showing Bruce that he was good enough, that he wasn't wasting his time training a boy with too many emotions. Always alert. He had too many emotions, he knew that. His love was wide and deep, but so was his anger. His sadness was like sharp claws scratching his skin from the inside out. He needed to stay alert to keep his emotions in check, because they could consume him.
Being Robin kept him alert, he needed to take care of himself and Batman's back. Even Dick, who had years of training, found Jason too vigilant, his eyes never seemed genuinely relaxed and Dick found out the hard way. He went to play a prank on Jason, waking him up in the middle of the night, but the boy reacted in the worst way and before Dick could react, there was a knife pressed against his neck.
When Jason died and came back with Red Hood, his sense of survival became stronger. There were too many people wanting to kill him, the anti-hero had twice as many enemies, sleeping in peace was not an option. He had so many knives and hidden weapons that he would get scared when he went to brush his teeth and found an AK 47 in the bathroom cabinet. He needed to be like that to survive.
Then he met you. And his knees got weak, his heart raced faster than when he had a gun pointed straight at the vigilante's heart. After much difficulty, you started dating, even though Jason warned you that dating him was a death sentence.
You didn't listen to his warnings, forcing him to stop self-deprecating and start acting like a functional adult (as much as possible) to be in a relationship. Jason was right, he was too busy with his double life. He almost never relaxed, worried about taking care of you and protecting you from his enemies.
After a few fights, you decided that for the relationship to work, you would have at least one day a week to be lazy. You started it: Sunday morning. You needed to know that at least one day a week you would have Jason completely. It was hard to live with the distance his night shift required. So he committed to keeping up this new tradition.
"I'm hungry," Jason just mumbled in response to your plea. It was 10 am on a Sunday morning and neither of you were willing to get up, just like you forced them to. Your legs were intertwined, a thin sheet covering you, Jason's hands holding you tightly against him, his soft lips against your shoulder. The sun was coming in through the curtains, Gotham seemed silent, the only noise that mattered to you was each other's breathing.
"The bakery should be delivering by now," Jason replied, sighing contentedly as you drew patterns on his arm. One of the rules of Sunday morning was to make no effort, even cooking. You knew Jason liked to cook and take care of you, but at least one day a week you allowed yourself the luxury of eating ready-made food.
"It should be at the door by now," you mumble, finally opening your eyes and finding your boyfriend's beautiful face. Jason imitated your action, his sapphire eyes seemed clouded with sleep, which pleased you. Yesterday you had gone out to dinner and stayed up late watching movies and kissing on the couch, which explained how tired they both were.
"Let's get it then," Jason's voice was still hoarse, his black hair cutely messy. He let out a groan of complaint when you pulled away from him to get up, causing you to laugh.
As soon as you established lazy Sunday, it was as if a switch had turned in Jason's head. It was impressive to admire how beautiful Jason looked relaxed, his shoulders without all that tension, his features less marked and even his scars relaxed.
Peace would suit Jason, you thought.
The two of you shuffled into the kitchen, talking in whispers, your hands never leaving each other. Jason walked close behind you, his large hands holding your hips close to his body.
Your boyfriend had a silly smile on his lips, the joy of being with you leaving him on cloud nine. He noticed how beautiful you looked in your sweat shorts and with his shirt, you smelled of comfort and love.
"So, our only commitment is to have coffee and kisses at the counter, right?" Jason hummed, a huge smile on his lips, the sun seemed brighter. Then clouds appeared in the glorious sky of the lazy Sunday.
The clouds came in the shapes of three known people invading your window, the largest of them smiling happily. You thought Jason was really sleepy and relaxed, because he didn't even raise a gun towards the intruders, which was customary.
"Good morning, couple." Dick Grayson greeted, closing the window when Damian entered last. You raised an eyebrow, while Jason gave a slight growl behind you. Your hands came up to lightly stroke his hair, urging him to stay calm, he relaxed into your touch, your lazy Sunday Jason returning.
"Okay, Todd, we got some information from that case we were working on." Damian said, being the rude little punk that he is, throwing work papers on their kitchen table. Tim Drake followed suit, leaning against their counter, where Jason planned to kiss you until you forgot your name.
"Boys," you called out to them, clearing your throat. Three pairs of eyes stared at you. "Today is Sunday."
You sighed when none of them reacted. Damn workaholic sons of Bruce Wayne. Your feet shuffled to the kitchen door to get breakfast, leaving Jason to take care of his brothers.
"Jason, we need those other documents you saved." Dick said, sitting down next to Damian. Jason let out a long sigh, he still felt numb from being in bed with you. He wouldn't let his brothers ruin his favorite day of the week.
"Can we fix this tomorrow?" The three brothers stared at Jason, their eyes equally wide. The fearsome red hood's posture was so relaxed, his pajama top slightly torn and loose. His hips leaned on the counter and his blue eyes seemed clearer, almost serene. His hair really looked like a mess, the white lock falling over his forehead in a cute sort of way.
"Jason, did you hear us? It's the case you've been working on for months." Tim said, still looking perplexed. Jason sighed, his features still marked by prolonged sleep.
"Yeah, yeah. So?" He grumbled, a smile appearing on his lips when you came back with the breakfast bag. Handing him a cup and pouring coffee. He whispered a quick, "Thank you, honey."
Damian was the first to recover from the shock, his hands holding a particularly suspicious photo that would solve half of Jason's case.
"Todd, big drug case! You spent months bugging everyone for clues."
Jason just shrugged, sipping his coffee and resting his face on your shoulder, humming with joy.
"One day more, one day less."You could have laughed at how Dick looked like he had been slapped in the face. Your heart was bursting with pride for your boyfriend, who had finally learned the meaning of being at peace and lazy.
"Who are you and what have you done with little wing?" Dick said, blinking those big blue eyes slowly.
You turned your back on the little argument again, not wanting to interfere in the family dynamics, busying yourself with taking your breakfast out of the bag from your favorite bakery.
"Take those papers off the table, let's have breakfast." Jason replied with just that, making Tim's eyes pop out. He looked like a different Jason, without his characteristic sarcastic smile or the tense shoulders.
"Todd, we need to figure this out!"
"Jason, it won't take long..."
Jason let out a louder sigh now, leaving the Wonder Woman mug in the corner and turning to his brothers, his tone of voice still soft compared to normal. "Today is Sunday." He repeated, pinching his nose slightly to keep his temper from rising. "I'm staying with my girlfriend. I'll figure this out with you guys tomorrow."
He turned to you, almost as if he expected to receive a proud smile, and he got one. Damian let out a snort.
"Todd, be a man for once in your life and stand up for yourself."
"He's too tangled up in the leash." Tim joined in the provocation, unable to contain himself.
"Wrong choice of words, boys," you whispered, knowing what was coming next.
The three of them were startled when Jason's hand slammed on the table they were at.
"I'm only going to say this once. It's Sunday morning. If you little shits are unhappy and girlfriendless, that's your problem. Either you're going to leave now with these papers or I'm going to use the gun I have hidden behind the fridge."
Jason's blue eyes were that darker shade that screamed: danger! It didn't take much more, the three guards took the papers and left muttering, you heard a few words that sounded like "this will come back, Todd" and "I'll tell him where he can stick that gun."
You turned to Jason, your hands going to his tense shoulders.
"Honey, it's okay, I'll accept if you want to help them."
He let out a snort, pulling you against his chest, smoothing the skin under your shirt.
"No. It's our lazy Sunday."You smiled, ridiculously content, pulling him into a lazy kiss.
"Speaking of which, gun behind the fridge?"
He distracted you with a kiss at the base of your neck, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Bastard.
It was a good lazy Sunday.
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kurooh · 21 hours
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Hi hi!
Jumping on the brainrot train yet again. I was thinkin'...what would be the MHA boys reaction when you surprises them with a sexy version of their costume.
I think some of them might go feral 😈
🐰
OH MY GODDD WHAT IS UR BRAIN MADE OF
izuku can’t form a coherent sentence, stuttering and flushing more at the sight of you, yet he can’t stop sneaking glances when he tries to look away. “b-baby! uh, you look really really good! not just good, you look so sexy— i mean—okay! wow, it’s really hot in here isn’t it? i swear it’s because of you—” giggling, you put him out of his misery by giving him a kiss.
katsuki’s affronted, or he at least pretends to be. you’re half naked, the costume hanging off your hips and chest, begging to be ripped off. now, he doesn’t want to reveal just how flustered he is, so he critiques every part of your costume, no matter how ridiculous it is. “see, look at that. this would’ve been a great knockoff costume if the headpieces were painted right. oh, and look at that shit right there! the manufacturer didn’t even make the panti— the shorts loose enough to replicate the real thing.” “it’s supposed to be tight on my ass, kat.” eventually he shuts up and just tears the costume off you, and absolutely will not address his fake criticism from earlier.
shoto’s pleasantly surprised to see you wearing his costume, shamelessly looking over the way the tight suit hugs the slopes and curves of your body. “my costume looks great on you. we could dress up together for halloween, hm?” knowing him, the costume won’t last until then lmaooo (he’s a real freak)
eijirou grabs your hands and jumps up and down. he’s so excited to see you wearing his costume, and he honestly feels like you’re a better looking red riot than he is. “YAY babe!! you look so beautiful, oh my god! you’re wearing it better than me, mrs red riot.” he smothers your face in kisses and works his way down your body, fighting every urge to rip the costume off you.
denki walks into the room and takes one wide eyed, slack jawed look at you in his costume. “i’m hard.” “denki! what do you think of it??” “i just said i’m hard!” “that’s not enough of an answer!” “babeeee! you KNOW how sexy you are.” “how sexy?” you’d ask cheekily, spinning to show him the backside of the costume, which leaves almost nothing to the imagination. “i’m going full chargebolt on you baby.” “what.” “spread your legs right now,” and then when he sees the disbelief and shock on your face he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “you heard me babe.”
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You're just like them | buddy & monkey: double the trouble
pairings: leah williamson x reader!monkey x reader!buddy x jordan nobbs
summary: monkey is unhappy to spend the night round jordan's for the first time since the transfer to aston villa and she makes her feelings known
double the trouble masterlist
also thank you to @alotofpockets for help with pics for the header + little ideas to add in along the way
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“No,” The words out of your mouth were sharp, you folded your arms across your chest and shook your head stubbornly. You were known to be stubborn at times and today was certainly no different.
“It won’t be that bad,” Leah tried again, her tone being gentle but firm, “And you won’t be on your own, Buddy will be there with you as well.” She pointed out, motioning to your favourite little buddy that is bouncing around happily, blissfully unaware of the tension in the room.
“We’re goin’ to Mama’s house!” Buddy chimed in cheerfully, “Monkey ‘ou can see Blu too!” She’s far more excited about this decision than you are, but then again you suppose she’s used to being there more frequently than you, in fact you’ve not actually been to Jordan’s new place so you have no clue what it’s even like, “I show ‘ou all of my toys!”
“See? Buddy’s excited,” Leah said, motioning to your favourite little buddy with a hopeful smile, “It’ll be fun to be there together!”
“Nope, nuh uh!” You insisted, shaking your head harder, “I don’t wanna go there!”
Leah pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling a deep sigh, “Monkey, please. I know you don’t want to go, but I would feel more reassured to know you were there–”
“I don’t get why I can’t just come? I’m almost 18!” You interjected, throwing your hands up in the air, “It’s only another month away, it won’t matter!”
“The keyword is that being almost there, Menace,” Leah chuckled, shaking her head in amusement, “Maybe next year my girl, eh?” She joked, ruffling your hair.
“Get off,” You grumbled and tried to dodge her hand from touching your hair still, “I don’t want to go there!”
Tonight was Leah’s birthday party since she couldn’t celebrate much when it was her actual birthday, so the celebrations were delayed until tonight at least.
You were gutted you weren’t allowed to go, sometimes it sucked to not be an adult yet.
Despite your determination to try and change Leah’s mind, she wasn’t overly thrilled with the idea of you coming into a club while being under the age limit and therefor, had the brilliant idea to all but ship you and Buddy off to Jordan’s much to your absolute detest about it 
Hence the whole argument at that current moment that you’re having with her after she’s just dropped the bombshell on you about going there.
“I know you’re not happy about this my girl but it’s just for tonight,” Leah began to speak, “And yes I’m aware you’re almost 18 now but I’m sorry, you’re not staying in the house alone, I don’t know what time I’ll be back and I would feel a lot more comfortable if you were somewhere that I knew you were safe, okay?” She told you firmly, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips.
“But why do I have to go there though?” You huffed and stomped around in strong disagreement, you definitely weren’t going to agree to going there against your own will, “I’m not going and you can’t make me!”
“Monkey, come on. Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Leah exhaled a sigh and rested her hands on her hips, “Jordan’s really looking forward to spending time with you both as well.”
“I don’t care, I’m not going! Why can’t I just go to Kim’s house? Or even Wally’s?” You demanded, scrunching your face up in confusion, “Or there’s even Beth and Viv’s as well!”
“Because they will all be coming to the party tonight,” Leah explained patiently, her tone calm despite your attitude overall as she continued to fold a set of Buddy’s clothes and put them in her overnight bag fresh out of the washing basket, “Jordan’s really looking forward to spending time with you and Buddy. It’s been a while since you’ve properly seen her.”
A groan escaped your lips, your frustration bubbling over, “Yeah and there’s been a reason for that,” You murmured, hopping up onto the counter definitely.
“Oi, off there,” Leah swatted at your knee, just like she always does but now you just do it to purposely wind her up, “Will you please just give her a chance?”
Rolling your eyes, you hopped off the kitchen counter, “I don’t want to go, Le,” You mumbled, still standing firm in your protest as you lean up against it and cross your arms.
Leah exhaled a sigh, biting her lip, “Look, I know you’re not thrilled about it, but it’s only for one night–”
 “One night?” You repeated, your eyes widening, “One night? Nah, there’s no fuckin’ way I’m going there and staying overnight! No! You can fuck off if you think I’m doin’ that, Leah!” You hadn’t meant to swear, but you couldn’t help your initial reaction at that very moment, “I thought that I would at least be able to come home tonight after you’re back!”
You especially hadn’t meant to do it in front of Buddy and her little ears.
Buddy gasped, her little eyes wide as saucers, “Monkey, ‘ou said bad words!”
“Tattletale,” You murmured, rolling your eyes.
“Excuse me?” Leah’s eyes narrowed, flashing with anger suddenly. You guess you did just swear at her, what other type of reaction did you expect?
“You’re excused,” You replied, a cocky smile plastered over your face, “I’m not goin’ there!”
“Yes you are,” Leah snapped, her patience now wearing thin, “I get that you’re annoyed and upset about this, but I am definitely not going to stand here and allow you to swear at me like that and think you can get away with it. You don’t have a choice in this, you’re the child and I’m the adult and what I say goes, understood?”
“Urgh, whatever. It wasn’t even directed at you!” You grumbled, completely lying through your teeth but you didn’t want to make the situation worse for yourself, the blonde looked pissed as it was already, “I’m not goin’ there and you can’t make me!”
Leah’s jaw tightened, you can see a flicker of hurt flash across her face, but it’s quickly replaced by the stern expression she usually reserves for you when you’ve pushed things too far, “Monkey,” She said, her voice low and controlled, “You’re going to Jordan’s and that’s final. End of discussion.”
“No I’m not!” You shouted, frustration boiling over, “I don’t even care what you say, she abandoned us– she abandoned me! I’m not goin’ there and you can’t make me!”
The words hung heavy in the air, and for a second, there was silence. Even Buddy seemed to sense the shift in the room, her little face wrinkling with confusion.
“Hey, bubba,” Leah turned her full attention to the little one in the room, very much aware this is a sensitive topic to be discussed around her, “Why don’t you go and choose what toys that you want to take to Mama's house when we go there, huh?” She suggested.
“Yeah!” Buddy’s shout was electrifying, not wasting the time to toddle into the living room and seek out the toys that she wants to bring with her for the unexpected sleepover at Jordan’s house.
Leah took a deep breath, trying to steady herself and you can see the conflict in her eyes, the way she’s fighting between anger and empathy, “Monkey, it wasn’t like that,” She finally said, softer now, “Jord didn’t abandon you. You know she didn’t leave you because she wanted to hurt you, she had to make a choice based on her career and sure, it was a difficult one, but it was something that she needed to do but it wasn’t about her not caring, my girl.”
“But she left us… She left without even thinking twice about it!” You snapped back, your voice trembling with emotion you hadn’t expected to feel, “I asked her to not go and she still did!”
All throughout your life, you have had endless people walking in and out of it.
Your mum abandoned you when you were little and your dad couldn’t wait to wash his hands off you the minute that he could. The 2 most important people in your life just decided to up and leave you, just like that.
It’s one of the many reasons why you keep your walls built up so high because then at least nobody can knock them down and hurt you again, right?
You learned to trust people more when you signed for Arsenal and moved in with Leah and Jordan at the start, you opened up to people who you thought would never leave you, all of them stayed apart from one.
Jordan.
It hurt more than it should’ve done, it just really stung.
The separation between Leah and Jordan was a completely mutual decision between the two of them and you could understand that, in fact even when Jordan moved into a place in London, you would still go there and visit, even spend a few nights there with herself and Buddy when you could.
However, things turned sour when you learnt of the woman’s plans to transfer to Aston Villa in the Winter transfer and from there, you found yourself pushing her away.
If you pushed her away then it would save you from getting hurt too much when you eventually didn’t see her, right?
Wrong.
The day of the move, you found yourself crying and begging her to stay, but she never did.
She left you, she left you and Buddy, and even Leah to some extent.
You couldn’t help but resent her for that now if you’re being honest.
Leah sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over her face as if trying to rub away the tension, “I know it feels like that, my girl,” She said softly, “I know it hurts and I wish I could do anything to make it better, but sometimes people have to make choices that don’t always make sense to us. It doesn’t mean that Jord doesn’t care though, you know she loves both you and Buddy, so much!”
“Well it doesn’t feel like she cares nor can she love us that much if she just chooses to willingly go,” You murmured, shoving your hands in the pockets of your shorts.
“No matter what you think, you know deep down that Jordan does care about you, a whole damn lot,” Leah explained to you gently, her eyes softened ever so slightly, “She didn’t want to go, it was just… look, sometimes life just doesn’t give us the easy option.” 
You continued to scowl, stubbornness etched into your every feature, “Yeah if she really did care then she would’ve stayed, regardless of that and whatever.” You can’t say you’re in the mood to listen, to rationalise, or to forgive. As far as you’re concerned, Jordan chose her career over you, she abandoned you and there’s no good enough excuse for that.
“Look, my girl, I know this isn’t something that you want to do and I know you’re still upset with her about things,” Leah knew this isn’t something that’s going to be fixed with words, but she has to try at least, “I’m not saying you have to forgive her today, or tomorrow, or anytime soon, but I do need you to go there, and just… just give it a chance, please?”
“I… I don’t want to go,” You murmured quietly, shaking your head in defiance. The mere thought of it filled you with resentment.
The blonde exhaled a sigh and ran her hand through her hair, “Please? Just do it for me,” She pauses, “Jord really is looking forward to spending some time with you.” She added.
You let out a derisive scoff, the bitterness evident in your voice, “The feelings’ not mutual there,” You retorted, refusing to meet Leah’s gaze, “Please don’t make me go, Le.”
Leah’s eyes softened with a mix of pleading and resolve, “Do it for Buddy, if not for me.”
The mention of Buddy stung, she didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of this but of course Leah knows that you would do absolutely anything for your favourite little buddy.
“Fine,” You snapped, pushing yourself off the counter with a huff, “I’ll go there, but don’t expect me to be happy there!”
Leah nodded, relief evident in her eyes despite the tension, “That’s all I’m asking for, my girl,” She said softly, “Just a chance.”
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The initial drive to Jordan’s place was mostly filled with a tense silence, apart from Buddy’s cheerful singing from her car seat to none other than the soundtrack of North London Forever that she surprisingly asked for herself and of course Leah was quick to agree to the request. 
You keep your gaze stubbornly fixed out of the window, refusing to look at Leah or engage in any conversation and the blonde, thankfully senses your mood and doesn’t push further, already exhausted from trying to reason with you.
“Alright then, we’re here,” Leah announced, trying to keep the mood cheerful as she glanced between you in the passenger seat and the rear view mirror to see Buddy vibrating with excitement in her car seat.
“Fantastic,” You murmured, your stomach tightening in resentment as you stared out the window, not wanting to move out of your seat.
“Mama!” Buddy squealed from the back of the car, all but trying to unbuckle her own car seat much to her disappointment of not being able to, “Mummy, wan’ out!” She whined in frustration.
“Hold on a second bubba,” Leah chuckled at your favourite little buddy’s general lack of patience, “Mummy will help you to get out in a minute.” She added.
“Do I really have to be here?” You asked, frowning as you looked at Leah for a response, which you definitely already knew the answer to.
“You already know my answer to that,” Leah retorted, exhaling a sigh as she turned the car ignition off before unbuckling her seatbelt, “It’s just one night.” She reminded you.
“Worth a shot I guess,” You huffed in response and slowly moved to unbuckle your own seatbelt.
“It won’t be that bad,” Leah attempted to reassure you, giving you a soft smile before she opened her car door and climbed out of it to walk round to the side Buddy is to set her free from her car seat, “Right then, my little bubba. Are you ready to go and see your Mama?”
“I see Mama!” Buddy shouted excitedly as Leah unbuckled her and lifted her up to place her on the ground, “Mama! Mama!” She continued to squeal in delight.
“Yeah, we’re gonna go and find Mama,” Leah smiled genuinely at her 2 year old’s excitement as she held her in her arms as she turned back to look to where you’re still sat in the car, “You’re going to have to get out sooner rather than later, you know?” She told you, amusedly.
“I choose later,” You murmured, barely louder than a whisper, reluctant to climb out of the car any time soon, “Better yet, I’ll just stay in here and come back home with you.”
Leah exhaled a sigh and opened the car door, “Get out of the car, Menace,” She paused as she adjusted Buddy to sit on her hip, “Come on, just give it a chance, please?” She asked.
“Don’t have a choice,” You grumbled under your breath as you slowly climbed out of the car and stood there with your hands shoved in your pocket while you looked further unimpressed, “Are you sure I can’t come tonight? Nobody would even notice I was there, it’ll be fine!”
“No,” Leah kept a firm face as she slammed the car door shut behind you, locking her BMW before starting to walk up the steps of Jordan’s house, who had already clocked the car and came to answer the front door, “Bubba, look it is!”
“Mama! Mama!” Buddy immediately leaned towards Jordan the minute that she clocked her and you couldn’t help but dawdle behind with a scowl etched on your face.
“Hi, Buddy!” Jordan exclaimed, reaching out to scoop Buddy into her own arms as she hugged her gently, “I’ve missed you so so much!”
“Mama you’re silly, you saw me yesterday!” Buddy’s giggles were infectious as she reminded Jordan that she did indeed see her yesterday, having it be your favourite little buddy’s birthday yesterday when she finally turned 2 years old.
“Oh of course I did but I miss you all the time,” Jordan retorted playfully as she tickled Buddy under her armpits which caused the 2 year old to laugh even more, “Or is that not allowed now?”
“Where Blu?” The 2 year old asked eager to see the little four legged dachshund and you must admit that you’ve been excited to see him if anything else.
“He’s inside the house and he’s so excited to see you both,” Jordan told the toddler, placing her down on the ground before she toddles inside the house, “Hiya, little one!”
“Don’t call me that,” You said like the words are venomous to you in that moment.
“Oh, sorry,” Jordan was immediately apologetic as she shared a concerned look with Leah, “It’s so great to have you both here, I, er, I didn’t think you would come.” She admitted, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.
“Yeah well I didn’t want to be here, but well, I wasn’t given much choice about it regardless,” You grumbled the truth and continued with your carefree attitude you have going on.
“Monkey, don’t be rude,” Leah chided you for your lack of manners, giving you a pointed look.
“What? I’m just being truthful!” You mumbled, shrugging your shoulders carelessly, “I told you I would come but I didn’t say I’d be nice about things.” You added, honestly.
Leah pursed her lips and narrowed her eyebrow, “Hey, come on. We talked about this.”
“Be grateful I’m even here,” You murmured in response, choosing to have more interest with your phone in your hand than to look between the two old, “Cos’ I really don’t wanna be.”
“Enough of this,” Leah scolded you, “This is Jord’s home and you need to at least be respectful of that, regardless whether you want to be here or not, okay? I don’t want to hear about you being rude this time that you’re here!”
“Ugh, whatever,” You brushed past the older women inside the house with your hood up and slumped down on the sofa.
“Look Monkey it’ Blu!” Buddy motioned to the small dachshund puppy that you hadn’t seen in a good while and you did have to admit that you missed him an awful lot.
“Hi boy! Hi!” You crouched down and gave the puppy some fuss, “Oh, I have missed you!”
“I’m sorry about her,” Leah apologised for your rude behaviour, “She’s just… well she’s a teenager for a start and she’s still not exactly handling it well that you’re not just five minutes down the road now.”
“That’s okay, I know what she’s like. Monkey’s stubborn and if she doesn’t want to do something then she won’t, will she?” Jordan retorted, exhaling a sigh, “She really didn’t want to come that bad, huh?”
The blonde bit her bottom lip and shook her head, “I’m sorry Jord, but I’m sure things will get better. You just have to give it time and be patient with her, even if it’s difficult.”
“Don’t be, it’s fine,” Jordan replied, smiling at her ex girlfriend, “I can understand if she’s still upset about me moving to Aston Villa, I guess it’s just a lot to handle for her, huh?”
Leah shared a weary smile with her ex girlfriend, “If it gets too much then let me know and I’ll have a word with her, because despite how she feels, she’s not allowed to be rude.” She made her point evidently clear.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Jordan reassured Leah with a soft smile, “You deserve to have the night off and enjoy your party tonight, don’t worry about either of the kids, they’ll be fine.”
“It's not so much Buddy I’m worried about, it’s more so Monkey,” Leah admitted, shaking her head as she jiggled her car keys in her hand, “I’ve already dealt with both her delightful attitude and language before we left the house and she knows I’m not putting up with it.”
“Oh, bad morning?” Jordan winced in response, “I had no idea moving to another club would have this much effect on her.” She admitted, ultimately regretting the decision there at that very moment.
“It’s a change and Monkey doesn’t cope with them but she’ll get used to it, Jord,” Leah reassured her ex girlfriend, “It just means things around the house are a little bit tense right now, but she’ll get used to it soon enough.”
“But in the meantime you get the brunt of her delightful teenage attitude? That’s not right,” Jordan frowned, hating the idea of you taking most of your anger out on the blonde, “I’m sorry you're having to deal with that.”
“It’s alright, I totally expected it honestly,” Leah admitted as she exhaled a sigh, “It won’t last forever and she knows I won’t stand for it, I was this close to grounding her after she swore at me earlier.” She adds, her patience wearing thin for your lovely words directed towards her.
“Understandable,” Jordan smiled wearily as she scratched the back of her neck, “I don’t have much hope to fix everything in an instant but I can at least try my hardest.” She tells her.
“Just don’t give up on her,” Leah told her as she shared a knowing look with Jordan as she popped her head into the living room and smiled when she saw you’ve joined Buddy on the floor to give Blu some fuss, “Seems just like old times, eh?” She joked, gesturing for Jordan to look in the living room.
“I swear I have a photo identical to this taken last year,” Jordan joked lightly as she moved further into the living room, “I was thinking that we could have pasta for dinner tonight? Monkey, I know it’s one of your favourites… unless it’s changed?” She asked, hesitant for the backlash from you.
“No thanks, I’m not hungry,” You respond politely as you could while seeing the warning luck that Leah is giving you in case you comment something less polite.
“Monkey, you didn’t eat much for breakfast nor did you have anything for lunch,” Leah frowned and shook her head, “You love pasta, especially the way Jord makes it!”
“Not hungry,” You repeated with a tight lipped smile on your face, going back to staring at your phone in your hand and scrolling through Instagram.
“That’s okay,” Jordan agreed with you, “I’ll go ahead and start to make it, I’ll leave some out for you in case you decide you're a bit hungry.” She told you, although you doubt you would want to eat it.
“Right then,” Leah spoke up as she looked towards both you and Buddy, “I’m going to head off back home to get ready, I’ll leave you three to it.”
“Thanks, Le,” Jordan replied, smiling at her ex, “I hope you enjoy your party tonight and celebrate.”
“Oh I intend too,” Leah couldn’t help but grin playfully at her ex, “Much better to know that the girls are both here with you as well.” She added.
“They’re safe with me,” Jordan promised, “Enjoy your party and don’t worry about things here, it’ll be fine.”
“Here’s hoping so– Monkey, be good!” Leah warned, pointing her index finger directly at you, “Remember what I said.”
“Yeah, yeah,” You murmured, rolling your eyes.
“Mummy, wait for me. I didn’t say bye to you!” Buddy came rushing over to Leah and threw her little arms around her.
“Oh how could I leave without saying bye to my little bubba?” Leah leaned down and cupped Buddy’s face in her hands before she peppered her face with kisses, “Be good for your Mama, okay? I love you lots and lots!”
“Love ‘ou lots and lots, Mummy!” Buddy told her, continuing to hug Leah tightly.
“Not as much as I love you, my little bubba,” Leah genuinely smiled at the 2 year old before she turned her attention to you as she walked nearer to where you sat on the sofa, “And I love you too, my grumpy girl.” she told you, placing a kiss on your forehead, much to your own protest about it.
“Leah man, get off,” You grumbled, trying to swat her hand away from touching you, “Bye!”
Leah and Jordan shared another apprehensive look with one another, “Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control here. I’ll text you if anything bad happens,” Jordan reassured her, “Enjoy the night, honestly.”
“Okay, okay,” The blonde exhaled a sigh and runs her hand through her hair, “I’ll have my phone with me the whole time, so you can still text me if you need too,” She said, looking more towards you to reassure you that you can still get in touch with her if needed.
“Prepared to be spammed with gifs,” You murmured, a mischievous glint in your eye as you don’t even bother to look up from your phone in your hand, “Can’t say I didn’t warn you either.” You added.
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“Mama! Mama!” Buddy’s voice was the centre of conversation with Jordan as the two of them played together on the carpet in front of you with some of the cars that your favourite little buddy brought from home, “Me cars’ red like Mummy’s team!”
Jordan’s eyes lit up in amazement as she smiled at the 2 year old, “That’s right, clever girl! What colour is this car?” She wondered, holding up the dark blue coloured car.
“Blue!” Buddy retorted, excitedly, “Like, not Mummy’s team!” She added.
“Well done, Buddy,” Jordan praised the toddler, “You’re getting more and more smart every day, kiddo!” She told her.
You couldn’t help but sit there and roll your eyes. You didn’t care much to contribute to the conversation Jordan and Buddy were having, you would much rather be interested to sit on your phone like you planned to do, at least your TikTok page was a good distraction.
“Alright, I should probably start dinner soon,” Jordan said, realising the time on the clock on the wall, moving to get up from the floor as she looked at you, “Will you please keep an eye on Buddy for me while I sort that out?” She asked.
Glancing up from your phone, you couldn’t help but huff and place it beside you, “Yeah whatever, but not for you though, I’m only doing it for Buddy,” You told her, bluntly as possible.
“Oh, yeah that’s fine,” Jordan responded, swallowing the lump that formed in her throat as she tries to not feel too hurt by that comment but the reality of it was that it really bothered her - You used to be so close with her, you would follow her around like a little shadow and not you want nothing to do with her at all, it really stung.
“Monkey, will ‘ou play with me?” Buddy’s little voice chirped as she peered up to look at you with hopeful eyes, “We build lego!”
“How can I say no to my favourite little buddy?” A small small appeared on your face as you slid off the sofa to join Buddy on the floor, she had all but completely abandoned her cars she was previously playing with in favour of the lego bricks that she attempted to drag over from the corner of the room, “Too heavy, Monkey!” She whines in frustration.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got them, Bud,” You giggled and stood up to easily move and pick up the lego bricks, “See? They’re not that heavy, you just needed a strong big sister to lift them up,” You joked with her.
“Thank ‘ou!” Buddy squealed and immediately dived into the box to start pulling out the different colourful lego bricks, “Monkey, ‘ou start with this one and I start with this one!” She declared, handing you a green block.
“Why can’t I have the one you have?” You asked playfully, pointing to the red block that she had in her hands, “I prefer that one.”
“No, that’s my block. ‘Ou have the green one!” Buddy’s little voice demands firmly, pushing the green block back into your hand, “I like red better!”
“Of course you do,” You retorted, grinning in amusement, “What colour is North London, Buddy?”
“Red!” Buddy declared loudly.
“Ain’t that right, Bud!” You nodded in agreement, “Guess I can agree to stick with the green block just for you.” You added, shrugging your shoulders as the two of you start to build together.
However that didn’t stop the two of you squabbling about the rest of the blocks though.
“What’s going on in here then?” Jordan popped her head round the door as she heard the commotion coming from the living room, “I thought you two would be playing nicely in here, eh?”
“Mama!” Buddy’s lower lip trembled a little, her big eyes filling up with frustration, “Monkey’s not sharing and letting me the ‘ellow block!” She whined, pointing accusingly at you.
“You're such a tattletale sometimes,” You rolled your eyes, feeling the frustration building inside of you, “You wanted me to play with you, Buddy! How am I supposed to build something if you keep taking them all?” You argued, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.
Jordan sighed and knelt down to the toddlers level, “Buddy, you know if you want Monkey to play with you then you have to share,” She reminded her, “Even if you like the certain coloured blocks.”
“But you don’ understand Mama, I like them ones. Monkey can have others!” Buddy pouted, clearly not liking the answer, “My blocks!” She declared, keeping a tight hold of them.
“Whatever, I don’t care,” You remarked, feeling your own frustration simmering as you do no more than push the tower over that Buddy’s been building in anger, “Oops.”
“M’ Tower!” Buddy’s whined, her upset clearly evident as the tears began to form in her big eyes, her lower lip quivering, “Monkey, ‘ou ruined it!”
“Oh well,” You shrugged carelessly and sidestepped over it to make your way back to sit on the sofa again.
“Monkey!” Jordan’s eyes widened in disbelief at your current attitude, especially towards your favourite little buddy of all people before she was quick to scoop the upset 2 year old onto her lap, “Hey, it’s okay, Buddy. We can just build it again, yeah?” She reassured her, hoping to calm the situation.
Buddy continued to sob and cling to Jordan, “I no wan’ build with Monkey, she’s a meany!”
You couldn’t lie and say that didn’t hurt your feelings because it definitely did to hear it out of the toddlers’ mouth even if she didn’t quite understand the words that she was saying.
“It’s just a tower,” You muttered, rolling your eyes as you turned your attention back to your phone in your hand again to scroll through your social media feeds, “It’s not a big deal.” You added, feeling a tiny bit guilty for upsetting the toddler.
Jordan exhaled a sigh and continued to cradle an upset Buddy in her arms as she turned her attention towards you to address the situation, “Hey, little one–”
“Don’t call me that!” You snapped at her, feeling so much hatred towards the woman in that very moment, “I’m not your little one anymore. You of all people don’t get to call me that!” 
Jordan’s face fell, the weight of your words hitting her like a punch to the gut. You watched her blink a few times, trying to process the sting of your outburst while still holding Buddy close.
“Okay,” The woman said quietly, her voice trembling slightly but still calm, “Look, I know you’re upset right now and I’m sorry li– Monkey, I am, but regardless of that, it’s not okay to upset Buddy like you did,” She told her, her tone gentle but still firm.
“Whatever, I don’t care,” You muttered, not having any interest in this conversation with Jordan at that moment, “You can’t tell me what to do either, you don’t get the right to do that anymore!”
“I know,” Jordan mumbled, exhaling a sigh as she knows that you’re really upset with her and she’s not going to push you to talk to her, “Right, Buddy. How about you come with me into the kitchen while Mama cooks dinner and that way we can give Monkey a bit of space, yeah?”
“Uh huh,” Buddy sniffled and nodded, her little face still wet with tears as she was reluctant to let go of Jordan anytime soon with her arms wrapped firmly around the older woman.
“Come on then,” Jordan murmured softly, standing up with the toddler in her arms as she casted one more glance in your direction, her expression a mixture of concern and sadness, “Take the time you need to calm down, Monkey. If you need me then we’ll be in the kitchen.” She added, before turning towards the kitchen.
“I won’t,” You stated coldly, although you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt tugging at your chest, but you did your best to shove it down and turn your attention back to your phone.
Had you really meant to come across that horrible?
The frustration you felt was evident and you had to remember that Jordan left you, one of the people that used to be a constant source of comfort and support and now she was just gone, but it was her own fault for leaving when she did, so maybe she did deserve the resentment you were showing towards her after all.
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You were even more reluctant to join them for dinner, even if pasta was your favourite dinner sometimes but you were too stubborn to give in.
You were somewhat glad that Jordan seemed to sense that you didn’t want to be bothered and didn’t start up another conversation with you, at least until it came time to put Buddy to bed later that night.
“I’m about to go and put Buddy to bed,” Jordan said after coming back through the living room with the toddler ready for bed in fresh pajamas and wet hair from the bath.
You did have to admit that it hurt a little bit when the toddler didn’t reach towards like she usually did, but you suppose that you were mean when you pushed her tower over.
“Okay, have fun with that,” You muttered, continuing to give her the cold shoulder.
Jordan adjusted Buddy in her arms, “Maybe after that, we could sit and watch a film? You still like Shrek, don’t you?” She offers, hoping to start an olive branch from that.
“Not in the mood,” You murmured, reluctant to look up your phone where you currently had previously been spamming Leah with gifs like you had promised, you were so gutted you weren’t old enough to be there in the club with everyone else and had to be stuck here instead with Jordan.
“For Shrek?” Jordan questioned, tilting her head to the side in shock, “Oh, I never thought I’d see the day. Alright, how about one of those Marvel films? I remember you used to absolutely love–”
“No,” You interjected, scowling at her menacingly, “I don’t want to watch a movie with you, and I don’t want to talk about the past either. You left, remember? That’s on you!”
“Oh, uh well then that’s alright,” Jordan stammered, lost for words in that current moment, “Um, I’m just gonna go and put Buddy to bed then.” She added, quick to escape to the safe haven of the toddlers’ bedroom and leave you to sulk in the living room.
You felt a pang of guilt but then you remembered that Jordan brought this on herself. She’s the one that left you, it wasn’t the other way around.
She deserves to be treated this way.
You weren’t left to stew in your thoughts for very long before Jordan wandered back through into the living room, you hoped that she might just leave you to it but you were sadly mistaken with that as she came to join you on the sofa as she grabbed a hold of the remote and turned the TV on to find something decent to watch.
You were fine enough to not have to speak to her while you just continued to sit there on your phone, you suppose you could have gone and sat in your bedroom but that just felt a bit lonely.
It was awkward though for the two of you just sat in a tense silence before Jordan was the first to start up a conversation, “Monkey,” The woman began to speak as she looked towards you, “Do you, uh, do you think we could talk?” She questioned, hesitantly.
Exhaling a deep sigh, you didn’t break eye contact from your phone at all, “I have nothin’ to say to you,” You murmured bluntly, continuing to scroll your Instagram stories. You had seen several private stories of the girls at Leah’s birthday party tonight and you can’t help but be envious that you couldn’t be there instead.
“Okay, well how about you just listen and I talk then instead?” Jordan suggested, wearily as she muted the TV show she’d stuck on, “Look, I know that things have been tough since I transferred to Aston Villa, but you have to understand I did it for the right reasons.”
“You left,” You sneered at her, cold and heartlessly.
Why couldn’t you be at Leah’s party instead of being stuck here in this current situation?
It wasn't fair!
Speaking of the blonde, she had sent you a delightful text that you somewhat made sense off right at the moment.
captain buzzkill 🙄🫡 Hi my cheeky monkeey! 🐒 I hoep you’re not causin any trouble for jord and pease don’t give her a hard time. she loves you so mcuh and I love you so mcuh. lots and lots like jelly tots my girl 💕💕 I’ll see you tomorrrow xxx
You couldn’t help but giggle at the state of her text message, it was very clear that she was very drunk already by the lack of words spelled correctly but it was nice then even when she was out partying and having a good time, she still thought about you and checked in to make sure you were okay throughout.
“What’s so funny?” Jordan questioned, curiously as she peered up from looking at her own phone.
“Nothin’ just something one of the girls sent me from college,” You lied to her, not wanting to tell her it was actually Leah.
Jordan hummed in agreement, “Oh right,” She paused, “Hey, do you uh, do you want to have a game of Fifa?” She suggested another attempt to try and make amends.
“No I’m good,” You were quick to agree.
“That’s okay,” Jordan replied, sounding disheartened.
You huffed and stood up from the sofa, “I don’t want to play video games, I don’t want to watch anything and I certainly don’t want to talk to you,” You told her bluntly, not giving her the chance to speak again, “I’m going to bed,” With that, you made your quick escape down the hallway to your bedroom that you had here.
Although you didn’t make a direct beeline for your bedroom, instead crept quietly inside the toddlers’ bedroom, “Buddy?” You whispered quietly, praying that she wasn’t already asleep.
“Monkey?” Buddy’s little head popped up from her cot with her dummy bobbing gently in her mouth as her eyes lit up when she saw you, before she reached her arms out.
A small smile tugged at your lips, a sense of relief washing over you that she still wanted you despite the way you had acted earlier, “Yeah, it’s just me,” You murmured softly, leaning over the bars of the cot to scoop her up gently. 
Making sure to grab Buddy’s blanket, you wrapped it around her to keep her warm, before sitting down with her in the rocking chair, “I wanted to say sorry for upsetting you earlier.”
“Ou’ were mean,” Buddy mumbled, her words muffled by her dummy still in her mouth as she nuzzled her head against your chest, “Ou’ broke the tower.”
“I’m sorry I did that,” You whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as you felt the guilt of earlier weighing heavily, “That was really mean of me to do it and I didn’t mean to get so angry about things either.”
“Ou’ mean to Mama too,” Buddy said, her eyes peering up at you with quiet sadness, “Ou’ made Mama sad. Don’ like Mama sad.”
Your breath caught in your throat at her words, “I know,” You murmured softly, your fingers gently running through her soft curls, “It’s just… You wouldn’t really understand it, Buddy. It’s complicated.”
Buddy nuzzled closer, the rhythmic sound of your heartbeat soothing her, but words still echoed in your mind. You didn’t want to upset anyone, least of all your favourite little buddy, “I don’t want to ever upset you, Buddy. Do you forgive me?” You asked, your voice filled with hope.
“I forgive ‘ou, Monkey,” Buddy replied softly, her tiny arms wrapping around you in a forgiving embrace, “Ou’ have to be nice to Mama too!”
You couldn’t help but smile at her innocence, though her words stung a little, “Yeah, I’ll try, Bud,” You murmured, gently rocking her as you stared out into the dimly lit room, “Things are just a bit tricky at the minute for me to do that, but I’ll try.”
It was easier said than done and you know there’s still a long way to go before you are willing to accept the apology any time soon, but at least Buddy seemed satisfied enough with your answer as her little hand gripped your shirt and continued to rest her head against your chest.
“I love you, Buddy,” You whispered, pressing another soft kiss to the top of her head, “You’re the best little sister I could ever wish for.” 
The comfort of your embrace lulling Buddy to sleep in your arms, her breath slow and steady against you and for a moment, the weight of everything seemed to lift, feeling the connection that only you two shared.
What you didn’t realise was that Jordan had overheard the entire conversation through the baby monitor that you forgot was still in Buddy’s bedroom. Her heart melted at the tender conversation between you and Buddy, and although she understood that you were seriously upset with her, it left her with some hope that just maybe, things between you both would be okay eventually one day.
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You hadn’t expected to wake up in a panic like you did, you felt as if your heart was racing and your breath was quickened. Looking around the dimly lit, unfamiliar room, your surroundings felt too large, too cold and you didn’t like it at all.
Disorientated, you threw your duvet off you as it felt like you needed to escape from it.
Of course you had another nightmare, typically, it was about both of your biological parents this time round. You guess your mum leaving you had been on your mind lately, overshadowing Jordan’s absence in your life now, it brought up a whole lot of unwanted feelings, all over again.
Making your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water, you succeed with that task until you take a misstep, tripping over one of Blu’s toys in the process and go flying, the glass falling out of your hands and smashing into pieces on the floor.
“Monkey?” Jordan’s voice spoke softly, appearing in the kitchen as her concern was evident, “It’s late. What’re you doin’ up at this time?”
Standing there frozen in the kitchen staring at the shattered glass on the floor until the woman’s voice broke you out of your trance, “Uh, I… I just wanted to grab a glass of water. I tripped over Blu’s toy and it fell out of my hands,” You admitted, looking around to spot the dustpan and brush, “I’ll clean it up now.”
Jordan shook her head in disagreement and was careful to not step directly in the glass, “Careful, you’ll get glass in your feet,” She told you, moving to grab the dustpan and brush out of the cupboard where it’s kept, “Stay there and let me sweep it up, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to do that. I’m really sorry!” The tired state you were in overshadowed the anger you felt towards the older woman, immediately apologetic for what had happened due to past childhood trauma.
“Hey it’s okay, it’s just a glass,” Jordan reassured you, finishing sweeping up the broken glass and dumping it in the bin, “Do you want me to get you another drink?” She questioned, turning to look at you.
“No it’s okay, I… I’m just gonna go back to bed,” You murmured, shaking your head and turning in the direction to head back down the hallway to your bedroom without another word.
“Did you have a nightmare?” Jordan’s words made you snap your head back around and glare at her, “Was that the reason that you’re awake?”
“No,” You growled at her, not wanting to talk about things as you started to wake up  and were more aware of the conversation you were having with the woman.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Jordan offered you, evident concern in her voice.
“No, not with you I don’t,” You snapped, continuing to scowl at her, “You… You abandoned me as well when things got tough!”
Jordan frowned and shook her head, “Monkey, I haven’t abandoned you. I’m still here,” She paused, “I know it’s hard to understand that, but look, I’m still here, even if it might not seem like it right now.”
“Yes you did!” You shouted, pointing your index finger directly at her, “Yes you did!” You repeated.
“Hey, please keep your voice down,” Jordan reminded you, her tone gentle but still firm, “Buddy’s asleep, remember? I don’t want you waking her up.”
You couldn’t help scoffing and rolling your eyes, “Oh of course you only care about that.”
“I care about you too, little one–” Jordan began to tell you.
“You don’t get to call me that anymore, you left me!” You interjected, your voice a bit louder than you realised it was.
“I’m still here, Monkey,” Jordan murmured, trying to get through to you.
“No you’re not!” You exclaimed, shaking your head in disagreement, “You left, you’re just… you’re just like them!”
“Monkey–” Jordan began to speak in a calm tone of voice.
“Mama,” The conversation was broken up by Buddy waking up, making her upset well known.
Jordan exhaled a sigh, “I’m going to take care of Buddy and try to get her back to sleep,” She paused, running her hands through her hair, “Try and get some sleep, kid. Just know I’ll always be here for you,” With that, she walked past you to head into Buddy’s room and you are once again left feeling bad for waking up your favourite little buddy.
Could you really ever forgive her for just abandoning you in the way she did?
Right now, it really didn’t seem possible for that to happen at all, but maybe time will tell eventually.
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© scribblesofagoonerr
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starsjulia · 2 days
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casual // leah williamson
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a/n : a long angsty one based of this request
warnings : angst with a happy ending (ish?), fwb
The rain always seemed to hit harder on nights like this, when you were alone in your apartment, the silence weighing heavy around you. Your phone was lying on the coffee table, screen dark, as you tried your best not to stare at it. Not to pick it up. Not to send the message you swore you wouldn’t send this time.
But the temptation was always there. Leah was always there. Somewhere in the back of your mind.
It had been two years since this thing between you had started—this complicated mess of blurred lines and unspoken rules. It had begun like most bad ideas do: with too much wine and one reckless decision. A kiss that turned into something more, with promises of “this is just for fun” whispered between sheets. You were friends, after all. Close friends, nothing more, nothing less. And that night, it had been easy to believe that you could keep it that way.
But nothing had been simple since then.
You sat there now, curled up on the couch, blanket pulled tight around you as you stared at the empty space beside you. Two years of stolen moments. Late-night texts. Meeting up when the loneliness felt too heavy to carry. Always on her terms, though. Always when she had time. You had told yourself it was enough, that you were fine with the arrangement. After all, Leah had been honest from the start. She didn’t want a relationship. She didn’t have time for one, with her football career and all the responsibilities that came with it.
And you were fine with that. Or, at least, you pretended to be.
Because the truth was, you weren’t fine. You hadn’t been fine in months.
The problem with pretending not to care was that it became harder and harder to keep up the act. You were good at pretending, though. Pretending not to feel the sting of her absence when weeks went by without a word. Pretending not to notice how she never stayed the night, always slipping out of your bed before dawn with some excuse about training or early mornings. Pretending that this arrangement, this friends-with-benefits setup, was still just casual fun for you.
The truth was, it hadn’t been casual in a long time.
Your phone buzzed on the table, breaking through the quiet tension in the room. You stared at it for a moment, hesitant, before reaching for it. The name on the screen made your heart do that stupid, traitorous leap in your chest.
Leah : You home? x
Three words. So simple. So innocent. Yet they carried so much weight.
You typed back quickly, your fingers shaking slightly.
Yeah. Why? x
It wasn’t long before her response came in.
can i come over? x
It was always like this. These late-night texts, her asking to come over, to slip back into your life for a few hours before disappearing again. And you always said yes. No matter how many times you told yourself you wouldn’t. No matter how many times you swore this time would be different.
Sure, doors unlocked x
You sat there for a moment, staring at the words on the screen, regretting them as soon as you sent them. But it was too late. You couldn’t take them back now.
Fifteen minutes later, Leah was at your door.
She walked in like she always did—confident, with an easy smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She looked tired. Exhausted, even. You knew the demands of her career were catching up to her, that she had been under more pressure than ever lately. The national team, her club, the media—all of it was taking a toll. You could see it in the way her shoulders slumped slightly, in the faint shadows under her eyes.
But she didn’t say anything about it. She never did. Instead, she just collapsed onto your couch, exhaling deeply.
“Rough day?” you asked softly, sitting down beside her but keeping a bit of space between you. You had learned to do that, to create some distance even when she was right there next to you.
Leah shrugged, running a hand through her hair. “Just tired. Training’s been brutal lately.”
You nodded, unsure what to say. This was how it always was—small talk that never led anywhere. You were friends, but there was always this wall between you, this unspoken rule that you never crossed into anything deeper.
But tonight, something about it felt heavier than usual. Maybe it was the rain outside, or maybe it was just the weight of everything that had been building between you. The things you hadn’t said. The things you couldn’t say.
Leah glanced over at you, her eyes searching your face for something you weren’t sure you could give. “You okay?” she asked, her voice quieter now, more tentative.
You forced a smile. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
It was a lie, of course. But she didn’t press you on it. She never did.
Instead, Leah leaned in, her hand finding your thigh in that familiar way that always made your heart skip. Her touch was soft, but there was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there before. Like she could feel that something was off.
You looked at her, trying to keep your expression neutral. “Is this what you came here for?” you asked, your voice coming out sharper than you intended.
Leah blinked, pulling back slightly, her hand falling from your leg. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, is this what it is for you? Just… this.” You gestured between the two of you, your frustration finally bubbling over. “Is that all I am to you, Leah? A convenience? Something you can come back to when it’s easy for you?”
Her eyes widened slightly, taken aback by your words. “Where’s this coming from?”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair, your chest tightening as the words you had been holding in for so long finally began to spill out. “It’s been two years, Leah. Two years of this—of you showing up when you feel like it, of you acting like we’re just friends, but then turning around and…” You trailed off, gesturing vaguely, unable to find the right words.
Leah stared at you, her expression unreadable. “I didn’t know you felt like this.”
You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Of course you didn’t. I’ve been too busy pretending everything’s fine. But it’s not, Leah. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with being whatever this is.”
Leah looked down, her jaw clenching slightly. “We agreed it would be casual. That’s what we said from the start.”
“I know that!” you snapped, your frustration finally breaking through. “I know we said it would be casual. But it’s not casual for me anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time.”
The room fell into a tense silence, the sound of rain hitting the windows the only thing breaking it. Leah didn’t say anything for a long time, just stared at the floor, her expression distant.
Finally, she spoke, her voice low. “I didn’t ask for this to be more.”
Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, the bluntness of them slicing through you. You felt your throat tighten as you tried to keep your emotions in check, but it was too late. Everything was spilling out now, all the hurt and frustration you had been bottling up for months.
“I know you didn’t,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “But it *is* more for me. I can’t help that. And I can’t keep doing this if you don’t feel the same way.”
Leah’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw something in them—regret, maybe. Or sadness. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that same guarded look she always wore when things got too close, too real.
“I’m not good at this,” she said quietly. “I don’t know how to do relationships. Football… it’s everything to me. I don’t have room for anything else.”
Your chest ached at her words, even though you had known them to be true all along. “I’m not asking you to choose between me and football, Leah. I would never ask that. I just want to know where I stand. I want to know if I mean anything to you beyond being someone you can sleep with when it’s convenient.”
Leah exhaled sharply, running a hand over her face. “You mean something to me. Of course you do.”
“Then why don’t you show it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper now. “Why do I feel like I’m the only one who cares? Like I’m always waiting for you to decide when I matter?”
She didn’t answer, and that silence said more than any words ever could.
You stood up, wrapping your arms around yourself as you tried to steady your breathing. “I can’t do this anymore, Leah. I can’t keep being your… your in-between. If this is all you can give, then I need to walk away.”
Leah looked up at you, and for the first time, you saw real panic in her eyes. She stood up, taking a step toward you. “Wait. Please.”
You shook your head, tears threatening to spill over as you stepped back. “I’m sorry.”
For a moment, it looked like she was going to say something more, that she might finally open up, finally give you what you had been aching for all this time. But then she stopped, her expression hardening, and you knew. She wasn’t going to give you anything more. She couldn’t.
The door clicked softly behind you as you walked out into the rain, your heart breaking with each step. You had spent two years convincing yourself that you were okay with the way things were, that you didn’t need more than what Leah was willing to give.
But now, soaked and alone, you knew the truth.
You had always wanted more. And Leah was never going to give it to you.
---
Days passed. Then weeks.
You tried to move on. You threw yourself into work, into spending time with friends, anything to keep your mind off of Leah. But she was always there, in the back of your mind, haunting you like a ghost.
You hadn’t heard from her since that night. Part of you had expected her to reach out, to try and fix things, but deep down, you knew better. Leah wasn’t the kind of person who fought for things like this. She didn’t know how.
Still, the silence hurt more than you thought it would.
One night, weeks later, as you were sitting alone in your apartment again, your phone buzzed on the table. You ignored it at first, assuming it was one of your friends checking in, but when it buzzed again, you glanced at the screen.
Leah: Are you home?
Your heart clenched at the sight of her name. You stared at the message for a long time, torn between replying and throwing your phone across the room.
But before you could stop yourself, you typed back.
yeah. why.
There was a long pause, and for a moment, you wondered if she would respond at all. But then your phone buzzed again.
Leah: Can I come over?
You stared at the screen, your mind racing. You knew you should say no. You knew that letting her back in would only lead to more heartache. But it was Leah. And despite everything, despite all the hurt, you still cared. Too much, probably.
Sure..?
It didn’t take long for her to show up. When she walked in, she looked just as exhausted as the last time you had seen her, but there was something different in her eyes this time. Something softer. Vulnerable, almost.
You stood awkwardly in the living room, not sure what to say, not sure why she was here. Leah seemed just as uncertain, her hands shoved in her pockets as she looked at you.
“I missed you,” she said quietly, her voice raw.
Your heart clenched at her words, but you didn’t let yourself get too hopeful. “You missed me, or you missed the convenience?”
Leah flinched slightly at your words, but she didn’t look away. “I missed you,” she repeated, her voice firmer this time.
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Leah, I can’t keep doing this. You know that.”
“I know,” she said, taking a hesitant step toward you. “I know I’ve been shit. I know I haven’t given you what you deserve. But I…” She trailed off, struggling to find the right words. “I’m scared.”
You frowned, confused. “Scared of what?”
“Of losing you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Of letting you in too much and screwing everything up. I’m scared that if I let myself care, I’ll get distracted, and I can’t afford that.”
You stared at her, your heart aching at the vulnerability in her voice. You had never heard her talk like this before, never seen her let her walls down like this.
“I’m not asking you to give up your career, Leah,” you said softly. “I’m not asking you to make me your whole world. I just want to know that I matter to you. That I’m not just something you come back to when it’s convenient.”
“You matter,” she said quickly, stepping closer now. “You matter more than you know. I just didn’t realize how much until you walked away.”
You felt tears prick at your eyes, but you blinked them back, not wanting to break down in front of her. “Then why didn’t you fight for this sooner?”
Leah took another step toward you, reaching out to gently take your hand. “Because I’m an idiot,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry. I don’t want to lose you.”
You looked down at her hand in yours, your chest tight with a mixture of emotions. “I don’t want to lose you either,” you whispered.
Leah gently tugged you closer, her other hand cupping your cheek as she looked into your eyes. “Let me try. Please. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I want to try. For you.”
You closed your eyes, leaning into her touch, letting yourself feel the warmth of her skin against yours. It wasn’t a perfect resolution. It wasn’t everything you had been hoping for. But it was something.
And maybe, for now, that was enough.
---
The road ahead wouldn’t be easy. But as Leah pulled you into her arms, holding you tightly for the first time in what felt like forever, you knew that this was a start. A messy, complicated start—but a start nonetheless.
And maybe that was all you needed. For now.
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Maroon (part six)
modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader
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themes/warnings: angst, depiction of trauma/injury, mutual pining, language, avoidant Aemond
word count: 3.9k
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
The Dragonstone ball came and went. Aemond and the reader are no closer to reconciling. Aemond's personal battles threaten to get the best of him, and there is only one person he thinks of turning to.
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Aemond had begun to severely dislike his weekends. 
His stomach churns as he lies motionless under the sterile white hospital lights, feeling more like a lab experiment than a person. The surgeon, a man who face Aemond could now recognise in his nightmares, hovers over him again, poking and prodding as if inspecting a faulty machine.
After four months, the process was routine, almost mechanical. Aemond hated every second of it. 
No matter how many times they examined his injuries, one thing remained glaringly clear – he would never be as he once was. The cold, clinical truth he had been avoiding finally settled like a dead weight on his chest. He would never regain sight in his left eye. Ever.
Aemond’s stitches had been removed earlier than expected, the result of the extensive, borderline-experimental treatments his mother had ensured that he underwent. Her desperation to fix him bordered on obsession – nothing but the best surgeons, the most cutting-edge procedures, were made available to her son. ‘Nothing but the best for the Prince of the City’, they would say. And Aemond knew it wasn’t really for his sake. He had to be perfect. He had to be fixed.
A Targaryen heir couldn’t walk around looking all deformed, not in this family, not in this city. Yet no amount of money or prestige could make him whole again. The best the world had to offer still wasn’t enough.
He clenches his jaw, his body completely tense under the surgeon’s touch. The treatment felt less like healing and more like a futile attempt to erase the ugly truth. He felt wronged, betrayed even. He was so used to being in control, or at least, having some semblance of it. It was the only way he could bury the darkness within – the bitterness, the anger. But he has no control left. Now he is the one who bends to everyone’s will.
His mother demanded justice for him. She wanted Luke relieved of his seat at Dragonstone, and inheritance of Driftmark. At the very least, she argued, the boy should be demoted for a time or sent away to learn the error of his ways. Viserys would have none of it. According to him, both Aemond and Lucerys were equally at fault. Just boys being boys. Yet, nine times out of ten in the weeks following the accident, Viserys frequented Lucerys’ hospital suite accompanied by his precious firstborn Rhaenyra. 
Aemond barely saw him. He normally wouldn’t care; he trained himself not to. But nothing was right. He didn’t deserve any of this. Luke would limp for months, and that’s it, but Aemond lost his fucking eye. He felt that childish angst resurging inside him, and he knew he was no longer in control.
He recalls the Dragonstone Ball, the night from a week prior when he’d finally emerged after months of hiding, his public reappearance carefully orchestrated to show that Aemond Targaryen was still here, still powerful, still beautiful. He tried to convince himself that he had come to terms with everything – a plain-faced lie. The crowd, the so-called elite of society, had clamoured at the sight of him. They had been shocked, though not in the way he’d expected. They hadn’t recoiled at his injuries. Some had barely seemed to notice. 
It wasn’t as bad as they thought.
That had been the general statement. Whispers circulating the Valyrian hall, their astonishment turning to confusion. Why had he stayed away for months? Why all the secrecy? He looks fine, he heard them murmur, their eyes barely lingering on the faint scar on the side of his face. 
Some even saw his appearance in a twisted light, and deemed it as an enhancement to his aura. But they didn’t care about him, not really. They saw a carefully curated image, a version of Aemond that fit neatly into the narrative of a rebellious, aristocratic heir who felt the need to challenge his younger nephew into a game of chicken, only to pay for it dearly. Some had even dared to call him The Dark Prince of the City, a new title he loathed. 
What a relief it must be for everyone that he was only a little bit fucked up. How fucking fantastic. To them, his injury was cosmetic, an insignificant blemish on a life still dripping with wealth, status, and power. It doesn’t matter that there is an aching emptiness inside of him, a sense of loss and injustice that stretches far beyond the physical damage. It doesn’t matter that he can barely look at himself in the mirror. It doesn’t matter that he can’t allow himself to be with you.
But it does. It all does. 
He closes his eye, his mind drifting back to the night of the ball, when he last held you in his arms. When he last tasted you. Oh sweet seven hells, the way you melted unto him. The way you felt… 
I can wait, you promised. But how is that fair? Is there even anything left of him for you to keep waiting for?
“It’s almost time for us to have an ocular prosthesis put in,” the surgeon says casually, as if making small talk about the fucking weather. “Your mother has already vetted some top-of-the-line models, I’m sure you’d be pleased – ”
Oh, will he? The best prosthetic eye, was it? Gods, this must be what winning the lottery must be like.
“ – or she also mentioned that we could go about the traditional route? Apparently, it had been custom to have gemstones installed in place of – ” 
"I don't care," Aemond snaps, cutting the surgeon off mid-sentence. Without waiting for a response, he pushes himself up from the reclined seat. He knows the surgeon’s sudden shift to small talk signals the end of the session. It always does.
"We're finished?" he says, not bothering to hide the bite in his tone. "Good. Cheers, doc."
“Wait, Aemond, remember to regularly apply the ointment – ” 
“Yes, yes, I know,” Aemond says rushedly, barely glancing at the surgeon as he walks to the door. “Oh, and that’s Sir Aemond to you. We’re not friends.”
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In the week following the ball, you find yourself slipping back into the familiarity of your routine. Hours spent poring over your dissertation with your supervisor, extra shifts at the bookstore, and meetups with Jace that often blurred into late-night conversations over coffee. You threw yourself into distractions, eager to escape the lingering effects of that eventful night, but the high was hard to shake off.
For a night, you felt like you were floating on clouds. Everything had aligned so perfectly – Jace had been the ideal partner, Baela’s custom gown made you feel like royalty, and the ball itself was something from another world entirely. Things couldn’t have gone better. 
You could have gone with Aemond. But that doesn’t matter now. 
He made his choice – one that had been crystal clear until it wasn’t. Until he’d pulled you out of the ball, and kissed you with such fierce intensity that your legs nearly gave out beneath you. 
He avoided you, but also stalked you. Dropped you as his partner to the ball, but sought you out during it with an emotion in his eyes you couldn’t fully decipher. 
Is that emotion the very same that you feel? Perhaps it was only momentary, and the next time you see him, his gaze will display cold indifference. Aemond is fire, and then he’s ice, keeping you in a state of uncertainty. What you have with him is suspended in limbo – you told him you would wait, and you plan to make good on your word. 
It’s because of him that you refused Cregan when he texted you – your number practically offered up to him on a  silver platter by Jace – and asked if you wanted to ‘have dinner some time’. You said you were having a particularly busy week, so maybe a rain check? You weren’t exactly lying. You did keep very busy – intentionally or not, it doesn’t matter. But as you sit on your worn-out couch, research papers strewn on the coffee table after hours of struggling to break ground on your dissertation, the idea of having dinner with the handsome Stark seemed all the more tempting.
That when you hear it – a faint knock at your door. 
Living alone has never given you much anxiety before, and you didn’t think it would start tonight. But who could be knocking at your door past midnight, when you hadn’t buzzed anyone in? You were never on close terms with your neighbours, either. 
You sit on your couch looking like a deer in headlights, staring at the door like it’s supposed to silence the knocking.
When did you get so wary? It could be Jace. Maybe Helaena. But then again, they’re not the type to show up unannounced. And besides, if it were them, you’d have already – 
Aemond’s voice calls out your name, partially calming your racing mind. 
You sense hesitance in his tone. Almost embarrassed. Like he knows he shouldn’t be here. 
“Aemond?” You find your voice, and move quickly to the door. As you open it, the question is on the tip of your tongue – What the hell are you doing here? – but the words stick in your throat.
“Hi, darling,” he says weakly, exhaustion etched in his voice. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
Something resembling a gasp escapes your lips when he turns his head slightly, revealing the fresh bruise blossoming beneath his right eye, a vicious mix of maroon and violet. The skin is split, blood dried along the cut, though his eye itself looks unharmed. 
“Aemond, what – ”
“Can I come in?” he interrupts, his voice barely a whisper. “Please.”
He walks past you as you step aside, his eye trained on you the whole time. A newly-arrived guest in your home and he has already claimed the space, his presence intoxicating. The air feels heavier, as if your modest apartment has shifted to accommodate someone like him. Or maybe it was just the effect he has on you, what do you know?
You gesture for him to take a seat, anywhere he’d like, and he waits until you settle right next to him before he visibly relaxes. The tension in his body eases, and his shoulders drop as he glances down. It becomes apparent to him how battered he must look. 
He starts to say, “I’m sorry for coming over unannounced – ”
“What the fuck happened, Aemond?” you cut him off, your sharp tone making him flinch. He swallows nervously, eyes darting away before he responds. 
“I got into… an altercation. Nothing to worry about, really – ”
His nonchalance is grating to you, frustrating you to no end. How can he say that, when the skin below his good eye is an angry colour it should never be in? “Nothing to worry about? Look at you! Gods, why am I just sitting here… I have to get the first-aid kit – ”
You start to stand, but his hand shoots out, grabbing yours with surprising gentleness. “It’s fine. Just... sit with me?”
He’s not being fair, using that tone with you. His question reminds you of the first time Helaena brought you to their penthouse. She needed to pick something up from downstairs, when Aemond had wandered into the living room, a book tucked under his arm. “This is my brother Aemond!” she exclaimed at the sight of him. “Aemond, this is my new official best friend. Don’t scare her off! I’ll only be a minute.”
You’d stood awkwardly, watching Helaena leave, and when you finally turned back to Aemond, he was already lounging in a plush chair, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.
“You know you can sit with me, if you’d like,” he had called out. “Promise I don’t bite.”
He had kept that promise – literally, at least. His bite stung far more – he drew you in, made you fall for him, and just when you thought things seemed too good to be true, he ices you out and avoids you for months. 
But sure, Aemond didn’t bite. 
You ignore his plea, pulling your hand from his. The expression on his face morphs into disappointment, but you force yourself not to dwell on it. If he’s offended, it can most certainly wait until his injury is dealt with. 
“I’m getting the first aid kit,” you say firmly, before disappearing into the bathroom. When you return, he is leaning forward, head held in both hands like he’s burdened by a migraine.
A fresh surge of panic rises in your chest. You sit next to him, clutching the small first-aid kit, suddenly feeling like it’s far from enough. “Aemond, you should probably go to a hospital. You might have a concussion or something – ”
“I don’t,” he says flatly.
“How can you be sure?” You reach for his face, gently turning it toward you. Pulling out a disinfectant wipe, you start dabbing at the bruise. He tries to hold still, but every wince betrays the pain he’s trying so hard to hide. 
“Got hit in the face, not in the head,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Okay, smartass.” you reply, still unconvinced. Your nose scrunches at his tone, and his lips tug at the sight. He’s grateful that at least his lip wasn’t split – he knows you’d make things far more difficult for him if he had to resist the urge to kiss you. Especially with the way your reactions are always so damn adorable.
You apprehensively apply antiseptic to a cotton pad, dabbing it over his bruise. “I don’t know if this is enough, Aemond, we really should call someone… Helaena – ”
“It’s fine, darling. I’ve been through much worse,” he says coldly, and your face falls at his insinuation. You’re afraid to know just how much worse – what he went through, what he still could be going through. He reaches for your knee, and squeezes gently as a gesture of reassurance. “I’m sorry. But trust me, I’ll be fine.”
You shoot him a look of disbelief. He’s comforting you? It almost feels absurd – he’s the one who looks like he ran face first into a pole, yet here he is, acting like it’s no big deal. 
“Tell me what happened,” you demand, putting the contents of the first aid kit back with an audible snap of plastic.
Aemond hesitates, jaw clenching as he tries to find the right words. You can already tell that he’s going to try to downplay it. He says, “I, uhhh, got into a fight, I suppose.”
“What, you just felt like it?” you say bitterly. Ever since you’ve known him, Aemond has always been the most composed out of all his siblings. But it seems as if another Aemond came out the night of the accident. If you don’t look close enough, you would think he has changed completely. But you do, and you know that your Aemond is still in there somewhere.
He doesn’t answer right away. If he were to say he never feels like breaking things, like letting it all spiral out of control, he’d be lying through his teeth. “You should see the other guy,” he replies, leaning back with a cocky smirk that you just want to wipe right off his lips.
With your own.
“It’s not funny,” you mutter, lightly slapping his arm, and he puts on an exaggerated grimace.
“Don’t hit me. I’m already injured,” he playfully scolds. 
You sigh deeply. The boy isn’t making any of this easy. “Who did this to you? Who… who did you – ” Your face contorts into obvious worry, and he exhales sharply, his eyes flickering with distaste.
“Not Lucerys,” he sneers. “You don’t need to worry about your little friend. One of Alys’ degenerate friends at the club. Must have been a Greyjoy. He certainly smelled like one.”
The callousness of his tone, the way he spits the words without a second thought, feels wrong. You’ve heard Aemond make cutting remarks before, but they were always sharp, witty, delivered with a certain sensitivity. Now, it’s like he doesn’t care who he hurts.
“You got into a fight because… you wanted to defend Alys, is that it?” 
“No, gods.” He immediately shakes his head at the notion. “She had nothing to do with it. She left early… she wasn’t even there by that point.”
“Then what?”
The truth of it was, he heard the news of Lucerys’ early induction into the board at Driftmark, like some hero’s welcome. Lucerys, the Velaryon heir, rewarded for his resilience, for living through what nearly destroyed Aemond. His grandfather Corlys, being the CEO, had always doted on him – the raven-haired grandson who didn’t bear the slightest resemblance to him nor to his late son Laenor. 
Lucerys was treated like the golden child. And Aemond… Aemond was left to lick his own wounds in the shadows. 
So Aemond heard the news, and went on a bender. It was nothing if not immature. He knows it. But he hates that he can’t just let it go, that he can’t turn the other cheek like he’s supposed to.
“They said some idiotic things,” he mutters finally, his tone hollow, “and things got unruly. Next thing you know – ” He clicks his tongue, shrugging as if it’s no big deal.
“You just threw yourself into a fight? For what? To feel something?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, darling,” he says, his voice flat. Your frustration reaches its peak, and you wordlessly walk to the kitchen to retrieve several ice cubes, wrapping them in a clean hand towel to create a makeshift cold compress.
When you hand it to him, he just looks at you with brows raised. “Press it against your face,” you explain, your voice clipped but calm.
He looks amused, and he hovers the compress over his bruise for a mere second, before dropping it on the couch beside him, shaking his head. “I’ll pass,” he says, his tone dismissive.
“Just do it, Aemond.”
“It’ll cover my fucking eye,” he mutters, his voice breaking. “and I want to be able to see you. I want to… look at you.” He shifts uncomfortably, gesturing vaguely to his eyepatch. “As you can tell, this one is permanently out of commission.”
His vulnerability chips away at your frustration. “Aemond… ” you whisper his name softly, as his gaze burns through you. “You don’t have to act like this doesn’t bother you. You can be hurt, you can be angry. You can feel whatever it is you’re feeling. Just don’t shut me out.”
His jaw clenches, but his gaze doesn’t leave yours. “I’m not shutting you out.”
“Right. Sure,” you reply, unable to help the sarcasm. “Then stop brushing me off when I try to help you.”
He exhales sharply, his shoulders stiffening. “I don’t need you to fix me.”
“I’m not trying to fix you, Aemond,” you snap, but your voice cracks under the strain. “I’m trying to be here for you. There’s a difference. Why can’t you see that?”
“Because it’s not that simple!” His voice rises, sharp and biting, his frustration finally matching yours. “You can’t just magically undo what I’m going through. Who I am –”
“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” you shoot back. “I know I can’t make everything better, but I’m here and – ”
“You shouldn't have to stay,” he mutters, quieter this time. “It would be easier for you if you let me go.”
“You don’t get to decide what’s easier for me, Aemond,” you say, voice trembling with emotion. The silence stretches between you, and for a moment, you think he might actually let you in. 
But then he stands abruptly. “I shouldn’t have come,” he mutters, pacing the room. “This was a mistake.”
“Then why did you, Aemond?” you ask, standing too, your heart pounding in your chest. This was not how you expected your cluttered little night-in to go.
“Because… because of you!”
“Me? I have done nothing but try to help you, even when you push me away… I wait for you, and I keep waiting and – ”
“Why?” He leans over you, tilting his head. “Why wait? I can’t deal with what you seem to expect of me. I can see it in your eyes. How can you look at me like that?”
“Enlighten me,” you challenge, stepping closer. “Like what?”
“Like… I’m better than I am.” Like I’m good. “I’m not. I would ruin you.”
“And yet, here you are,” you insist. “You came here. You sought me out.”
He looks away, jaw clenching again. “I shouldn’t have. Alys would have taken me in, tucked me into bed without all this questioning. Not… whatever this is.”
Your throat clenches at his words, and you have to swallow back the pathetic sob that nearly rises out of you. “Is that what you want? Did you come here for a pat on the back and quick roll in the hay? Is that how you see me?”
“That’s not what I meant.” His eyes snap back to yours, full of anger and regret.
“I’m not going to ignore what’s happening with you, Aemond. I can’t. I care about you. You’re a lot better than you think you are. You’re good and kind and fair. But you’re just – ”
“Broken?” he interrupts, his tone biting, as though the word itself is a weapon.
“Aemond – ”
“Am I just a fixer-upper to you then, darling? A project for your brilliant mind?”
“That’s not true. You know it isn’t. You’re lashing out on me, and I just want to help you!”
“I don’t want your help.” His words are clipped, final, made clear over and over. But you don’t back down.
“Then what – ”
“I just want you,” he confesses, the words tumbling out of him like something precious. You stay silent, trying to process his words.
He continues, his voice growing more pained. “That’s just me. I’m fucked in the head for wanting impossible things. I want you to stop looking at me like I’m still the Aemond you used to know. Maybe that Aemond was never even real. I want you to stop wanting to fix me. And I… I just want you to love me.” 
You say nothing for a while, your chest rising and falling, betraying your erratic breathing. He says in finality, “Like I said – impossible.”
“It’s not impossible,” you find your voice, your eyes never leaving his. 
“What?”
“It’s real, Aemond. And quite frankly, it’s driving me insane,” you admit, feeling braver than you ever have before.
“Darling – ”
“You want me to love you?” you ask, your voice steady despite the chaos of the evening. “Well, you have it.”
He shakes his head slightly, like he’s trying to shake off your words. “You don’t actually mean that – ”
“I love you, idiot.”
“You love me,” he echoes, the words tentative, like he doesn’t quite believe it. He looks at you, like he’s seeing you for the first time. “I don’t think I’ve ever understood you,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
“Just what every girl wants to hear,” you tease, a small, weary smile breaking through the tension.
But Aemond isn’t smiling. He’s still staring at you, his hand twitching like he wants to reach out but doesn’t quite know how. “You love me?”
“Aemond.” You can only nod, growing unsure of yourself. Is this him realising that he doesn’t actually mirror your sentiment? Fire and ice – he wants your love, but can’t love you back.
In the heaviest of silences, you do what you’ve expertly done thus far. 
You wait. 
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Series taglist (comment below to be added): @caught-in-the-afterglow @aemondtargaryensrider @punggo66 @dollfaceyourfear @candypurplebutterfly @moonmaiden1996 @mxrgodsstuff @lolitaisreal @blue-serendipity @melsunshine @thejanecampaign @fxngsfxgxrty @padfooteyes @msmarvel-19 @tempo-rary-fix @lauraneedstochill @julczimozart @sarcasticfangirl @witchyv @pyjama-shorts @bellaisasleep @zillahvathek @thincrusttheworks @krispold @yougotthatlove @raging-panda @fleetingly-artistic @throughgoeshamilton @polireader @katsav17 @minttea07 @kravitzwhore @meggiemay82 @hedonefox @daenysx @schniiipsel @namoreno @afro-hispwriter @aemondswifeisme @emcharra @malfoytargaryen @iiamthehybrid @fullmetalriotts @kellzlib @justsumtuffstuff @daydreamy-me @yentroucnagol @kezibear @queenofshinigamis @paprikaquinn (continued in comments...)
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Some notes in the margins...
Maroon is back! Grateful to all of you lovely readers who waited 🖤
The suspense at the end! Gah!!! If I'm honest, I hit a wall right there. Does the night culminate in heated passion? Is it the right time? Would it be good for either of them?
I'm sure you'll know my decision from the first passage of part seven 😆
As always, I am eager to hear from yous!
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novemberheart · 2 days
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{overview} You meet someone from Johnny’s past. A worst case scenario becomes a reality
{warnings} fem reader, poly 141, very Johnny-heavy chapter, cursing, mentions of drug use and alcohol, abandonment, abusive parents
Chapter 26 <- Chapter 27 -> Chapter 28
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It had been more than a week since Kyle and John had left. A week and three days to be exact. You peered over at the clock on Johnny’s nightstand.
Make that four days. You had been having a hard time sleeping. Since your nightmare about Kyle, you've had two more. At least they were about you dying. That was easier to think about than a member of your pack passing. To make matters worse Simon had to leave last night to do some vague solo mission. Well, every mission to you was vague. Still, there was a heaviness in the air and Johnny felt jittery. Simon was going somewhere dangerous by himself. He seemed to prefer that though. Not that it offered you any comfort.
You wished you hadn't turned down a sleeping pill. It was too late to take one now. You sighed, rolling over, wrapping your arms tightly around Johnny’s middle.
At least you weren't alone.
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“Come on, Bon,” you jumped as Johnny patted your bottom. He grabbed a few things out of the cabinet- specifically your favorite snacks. “Grab Vernie and change- casual. We’re going on a little trip,” he winked, throwing the snacks into a backpack and beginning to fill up your water bottle. You grinned, heading over to your room to change. It was officially summer, much to your dismay. You decided on a pair of shorts, a tank top, one of John’s flannels, and Kyle’s baseball hat. Johnny made a mental note to snap a picture for them.
You didn't bother to ask where you were going because you knew he wouldn't tell you anyway. The man loved his surprises. Wherever it was it was off base- making you even more eager. You and Johnny had similar music tastes, which made making you DJ less hard for him. You didn't make it too far before he pulled over at a store.
Your giddiness increased as he led you over to the swimsuits.
“Are we going swimming?” you questioned, already digging through the rack. He said nothing, a familiar glint in his eyes.
John and Johnny were more similar than people ever gave them credit for. It was easy to compare the betas and say they were the most similar, but the more you got to know them the more you recognized the similarities between John and Johnny and between Simon and Kyle. John and Johnny took charge. They were providers and made it known to everyone around them. They were both reactive. While John was a captain and had a higher expectation of controlling his emotions- when he was unhappy, everyone knew. Johnny operated the same way. The bark before the bite so to speak. You could easily imagine Johnny being a Captain one day. Kyle and Simon were both the bite after the bark. There was something mysterious about both of them that made people want to get to know them- for different reasons. They were both quick-witted and spent more time observing than speaking.
“How ‘bout this?” Johnny smirked holding up a bikini you weren't even sure could cover a nipple. You rolled your eyes, a smile etched onto your face at his antics. The perfect swimsuit finally caught your eye. A low whistle sent a shiver up your spine. “Quite like that, peaches,” Johnny hummed. It was decided.
You had figured you were going to a pool, so when you started seeing signs for a beach you couldn't help but shriek. You leaned over into the driver's seat, pressing rapid-fire kisses against his cheek.
“I’m so excited!” you cheered.
Johnny unloaded the car, a large duffle and a backpack. The sand was chilly but you didn't care. You and Vernie ran along the sand dunes. You came back to help Johnny set up a large towel and umbrella. You weren't even sure where he had gotten all this stuff. He even packed a few empty containers for sand castles. There was a breeze that reminded you of your childhood- and for the first time in a long time, they weren't bad memories. The beach was fairly empty, with just a few joggers and random families on holiday. Johnny grabbed a spare towel, tying the two ends and placing it around his neck so Vernie had somewhere to rest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, Vernie crushed between the two of you.
“Thank you for doing this,” you smiled, pressing your lips against his. He moved forward to deepen this kiss, until you pulled away racing towards the water.
“Ya’ Mommy’s naughty,” he chuckled to Vernie, racing after you.
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You yawned, your eyes slowly opening. You could feel hands against your skin and you slowly lifted the baseball cap away from your eyes, chuckling as Johnny was rubbing your third coat of sunscreen into your skin.
“I’m going to get cancer from all the chemicals before I do the sun,” you stretched. Hours had flown by before you had known it, your stomach wanting more than just snacks. You and Johnny packed up the car (the worst part of the beach) and went on the hunt to find a restaurant for an early dinner. It would be a crime if you didn't order the fish and chips. Vernie was happy chewing on her puppy chow underneath the table.
“What are you doing?” you questioned, peeking next to you at Johnny’s phone. “No those look terrible,” you whined watching as he sent practically a whole new photo album full of pictures to their group chat.
“The only thing that's terrible is your eyesight, Bon,” Johnny shot back, his lips pressing against your hairline.
“Can you at least send me the ones with you, me and Vernie?” you pleaded. You felt your phone chime a few seconds later.
“Johnny?” a voice questioned from behind you. He stiffened, his body instinctively moving closer to you. Even Vernie could sense a shift as she drifted closer to Johnny’s feet.
“Fia,” Johnny greeted coldly. His hand gripped your knee. You weren't sure if it was to ease you or him. Your fingers wrapped around his arm in solace. They were related. They had to be. Her eyes were identical, and you suspected they had the same hair color before she dyed hers red. They stared at each other. She seemed to be waiting for him to say something. He remained silent.
“How have you been?” She asked slowly. She was Scottish.
“Why, so you can fill Dad in?” he shot back. They were related. Your eyes widened at the iciness in his tone. She swallowed, drifting from foot to foot.
“I’m Sofia. Johnny's older sister,” She offered you a polite smile. You started to introduce yourself but Johnny cleared his throat. “We didn’t know you were here. Shannon thought about texting you but”- she trailed off. Johnny slid out of the booth, urging you to follow. You quickly did, his hand reaching out to grip yours. Sofia followed behind the two of you, pleading for Johnny to stop. He opened the door for you, plopping Vernie in your lap.
“There’s nothing we have to say to each other,” Johnny growled, slamming the driver's door shut. He didn't bother putting his seatbelt on, pulling out of the parking lot. You sat in your seat nervously, his normal soothing scent of cinnamon turning spicy enough to make your throat burn. He rolled a window down. His hand reached for yours, holding it up to his mouth. His nose pressing against the pressure point of your wrist. He breathed you in like it was the only thing keeping him from losing it- it may be.
“I’m sorry, Bonnie,” he whispered against you. You quickly shushed him.
“There are people that would get that reaction out of me too, Mac,” you soothed. You pulled your hand away, your fingers scratching at his scalp. “Do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered, his head pressing against your hand.
He had picked up some fast food. Despite him being shaken to his core he still had to make sure you were taken care of.
“I haven't seen her in seven years,” he said finally. “My parents are purebreds. When I presented as a beta it caused quite the shock. One in a million chance that’ll happen. My father kicked me out and that was that,” he sighed, making you gasp. Your throat tightened, your hands gripping onto his shirt sleeve. His own eyes welled- against his will, as he offered you a slight smile. “Don’t be sad for me, pretty girl. It’s fine now.”
“No it’s not,” you gasped. “How old were you?”
“I was thirteen when I presented but I was able to hide it for a little over a year,” he cleared his throat. He couldn’t look you in the eyes, knowing he would break under their caring glint.
“Where did you go?” you asked finally. You didn't want to know the answer.
“Everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Got roped into a crowd that wasn't the best, but it was my safest chance at the time,” he explained. His knuckles brushed under your chin, his thumb rubbing against your cheek. You pressed a kiss against his hand, holding it in yours.
“Tell me, please. I want to hear,” you whispered. He sighed heavily and you wondered if you had pushed your luck.
“We would crash in barns,” he nearly chuckled. His face fell. “There were drugs and drinking- all of which I did. When I was fifteen I overdosed, they were at least kind enough to call the police before fleeing. I was put into rehab and they put me back with my parents. My dad made my life hell until I left again. I ended back with the same crowd and when I was seventeen I got caught with a bag full of opioids. I was thrown back into rehab. It was good for me though. I was able to finish secondary school and I showed enough promise that they wiped it off my record. By then I was eighteen and joined the military when I got out,” he explained. His chest felt light, his shoulders relaxed against the seat. He knew you wouldn't judge him, but the silence was making him uneasy.
“No one in your family helped you?” you mumbled sadly. Your grip on his arm was tight, your cheek resting against his knuckles. He shook his head.
“They all sided with my dad. Can't say I blame them- but I do,” he grumbled. “My eldest sister Shannon reached out to me a few times the past few years. I just couldn't bring myself to answer,”
“You know I just see you as stronger now,” you spoke softly. “I’m proud of you.”
His jaw clenched, his head turning to face the window as he shoved back the tears. He took a deep breath, his fingers pawing at his eyes.
“Thank you, beautiful.”
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Something wasn't right.
You could feel it deep within your chest, a heavy uneasiness. You stayed tight-lipped. It was just you and Johnny and you didn't want to seem like you were feeling into every thought you had. Simon had called this morning. You had been asleep. John and Kyle being gone is what worried you. They have been gone for two weeks now. They were only supposed to be gone for one.
Even though you didn't voice it- Johnny could tell you were feeling it.
It was your first night of peaceful sleep.
The phone blaring on the nightstand changed that.
Johnny groaned, his hand patting your back like he was already trying to lull you back to sleep.
“What happened?” he groaned as soon as he answered. He rolled you off of him and sat up quickly. “Where are you?” he questioned. You sat up abruptly, your body moving faster than your mind. It was like your body had already prepared for this. The other line was quiet. You couldn't even make out anyone's voice. Johnny reached under his bed, grabbed a bag, and shoved a few of his shirts in. He made his way to your room, your legs moving on their own accord after them. “Pick out a few comfortable things. I'll get your stuff from the bathroom,” he whispered to you.
Tears fell from your eyes. You couldn't help it.
There was only one reason you would be pulled out of bed in the middle of the night.
Someone from your pack was hurt.
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Hi friends! This chapter was a bit of a doozy, but hopefully you enjoyed it! See you in three days for chapter 28!!! 🧡
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justatypicalwizard · 2 days
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Bakugo who eats you out because he lost a bet, smut
It all started with a bet. It was this specific chaotic type of bet that you throw over your shoulder when agitated. The one that comes pistoling out of your lips as soon as it comes to your mind, or even earlier, a fog of war limits your common sense.
This was often the case with Katsuki Bakugo who was world widely known as the most annoying person on earth.
Okay, maybe he stood on this podium only in your world (others deemed Denki as the most insufferable) but it was enough to fire the never ending quarrels.
The two of you were similar in many senses, none of which would ever admit. Despite you being way less aggressive, you had your ways of getting under other peoples’ skin when displeased. You had this fighting spirit and competitive nature that could tune well with Katsuki’s. Unfortunately it most often sang off-key.
It was hard to tell what he thought about you. On one hand you’d say he definitely disliked you, to some point maybe? If he did dislike you he wouldn’t keep you around the small circle of his friends. Katsuki proved that he could push away anyone he wished to, no matter the circumstances. That’s what happened with Deku.
So Katsuki Bakugo disliked the fact that he liked you. Or he liked to dislike you. Either way you fought, ebbed and always surged back. Oh, and bets?
I bet you won’t even make it halfway before the time is up. He throws when he passes you down the hallway, spotting you bending your back over a book, minutes before the exam.
I bet your lovely friend will come looking for you soon. You snicker leaving him in the kitchen of the house party you’re both at. He’s currently hiding from a bimbo who really tries to ask him out and doesn’t take no for an answer.
I bet your mum dropped you when you were little.
I bet Miruko will kick your ass over this.
I bet they’ll send this essay back. It’s shit.
I bet it’ll die in this sunlight.
“Huh.” He knit his brows together, throwing you a nasty look. “Old hag didn’t say anything. It looks like it needs light.”
You were currently in his dorm room, analysing a small plant his mother left him. It was tiny, in a small ceramic pot, with three juicy green leaves poking out of the fresh soil.
“Well, I bet it’ll die if you put it in this sun.” You threw, shrugging your shoulders.
“Okay. If I win you’ll shut the fuck up for a single day around me. No words, not even a squeak.”
With the eye of your imagination you could see Katsuki pestering you for a whole day while you’d be unable to fire back. Yet, you had nothing to worry about. The little dude on the windowsill will bear three of four days before wittering. It’s the type that needs more shade.
“Fine. And if I win you can eat my ass.”
He chuckled, throwing a not happening over his shoulder before ushering you to work you both had to do.
A week later you were back in his room. It was a pleasant place to work in - clean, quiet, and always stocked with tea and coffee. Unlike you, Katsuki had the luxury of a single room which always soured your mood when he rubbed it in your face.
You were resting in his desk chair, legs crossed and organising a bunch of sources you were about to use later in your dissertation. It was the least pleasant part of writing essays. Finding academic sources in the library or browsing for them on the internet was not half bad. One could get in the swing of it after some time. And it made you feel like a real student all book heavy bags in a spacious bibliotheca.
Organising them later though? A pain in the ass.
“-by the way.” You caught only the ending of his sentence.
“Huh?” Turning around you spotten Katsuki looking at something in the far end of his room.
There was a closet there, one that didn’t quite reach the ceiling but was massive in shape. Atop of it sat the little dude in his sweet ceramic pot. Unfortunately all that was left of his three juicy leaves was one stem fighting for its life.
You clapped your hands in satisfaction, cracking a victorious laugh.
“Told you.” Fake wiping a tear from your cheek, you turned back to the desk and searched for the box you were about to tick off the long list. “Give it some more water and time. It will be fine.”
“So.” You felt him standing behind you. His shadow disrupted your writing.
“So?” Once again you turned around in his chair, cocking your brow in question.
“You won.” He crossed his arms, tapping his foot on the soft carpet in irritation.
You nodded your head with a grin but still ruffled. “Yes, and?”
“And you told me I can eat your ass.”
“Oh yeah, stuff your stupid mouth full.” You laughed but he yanked you by the arm, standing you up.
He dropped to his knees, pushing your bottom into the rim of his desk. With a shit eating grin he slipped his fingers into the sides of your trousers, grazing the bare skin of your hips underneath them.
“What the fuck dude?” You cursed, grabbing his forehead like the one of a misbehaved dog, trying to pacify him.
“Tell me to stop and I will.” The grin never left his face as he waited for your words, digging his nails into your skin.
It would be a lie to say that you never ever thought of him that way. Of course he was pretty, with his naturally fair hair that gave him a punk kind of look. With his body carved out like a marble statue. With a grin that made people both want to slap him and fawn over him.
Yes, it did cross your mind that he would be a pleasant view in the bed. Who with a sound mind wouldn’t think of that. Maybe people who weren’t attracted to-
No, it was a normal thought to have, one that may occur when you’re alone under the shower or in bed. You just often appreciate the beauty of your friends. Mina’s also cute and Kirishima is bulked as hell. It was a rational train of thoughts.
So why wasn’t your rational mind telling your hand to push him away just now? Why were you looking at his face, so close to your clothed cunt and feeling excitement bubble in your veins.
Tell me to stop and I will.
And you never did. So he pushed you to sit on the desk, pulling both your trousers and pants down at the same time. You kicked the air a few times to get rid of them but they hung from one of your ankles. It didn’t matter because his face was at its place. God bless you showered before coming here because you could have second thoughts otherwise.
“Okay, whatever the fuck you want, psycho.” You breathed as he lapped at your clit, still looking up at you.
His fingers creeped towards the inner side of your tight and you slapped him over the head.
“Uh, uh. I told you you could eat me out, not finger me. Yesterday you didn’t seem like the one to take shortcuts.” You spat, drinking up his frustration and slight… shame? Like a kid who did something wrong and got caught red handed.
“Fine.” He muttered pushing his tongue inside you. “It won’t take long anyway.” The grin was back on his face.
It indeed didn’t take long as soon, your legs were shutting tightly around his face. You weren’t even looking down anymore, the sight was a turn on but you were already overdriven. Your competitive nature was in a bliss and your head played fucking Katsuki Bakugo, on his fucking knees, between my fucking legs over and over like a broken record. You didn’t want to spoil your fun by thinking he may be having a  merrier time than you.
Not now, not when you’re so close and his palms are grabbing your tights, fingers digging into your muscles so much it would hurt if not the tension. Edging your release, you grabbed his hair in a tight fist pushing him in more, crossing your legs like it would take an “open, sesame!” to undo them.
At last, with a final short breath you came chuckling and moaning. A Katsuki may have slipped past your lips but only once.
He tore your legs open, panting like he just finished a marathon. Looking down you covered your lips to hide the laugh. His face was wet, smeared all over with what was a mixture of you both. His cheeks were heavy with blood, an intense red cutting out on his pale face. Classically, his brows were knit together.
“Did you have to make such a mess?” The blonde stood up and went to his bathroom. You caught a glimpse of the bulge in his pants.
The sound of the faucet reached your ears.
“I’m not gonna say sorry. You asked for it.” And you were pretty good at it. No. Such praise would kill your ego.
The water stopped running and you heard him stomp back. You pulled your trousers on quickly, suddenly feeling awfully naked. What would happen now? Your casual friend just ate your pussy like it was his last meal before a death sentence, and you were supposed to go back to organising the sources.
You felt a hard push to the back of your head.
“Stop thinking about it and get back out.”
Eh?!
Time went on quickly and in a weird manner. A huge something was in the air but you couldn’t find a way to bring the topic up. Why did you eat my pussy out of the blue? Was it really just about the bet? Were you feeling horny and I just so happened to be there? Are we fwb now? Do you like me?
Scratch the last one. The man gave you a headache ever since his own head left your tights. Also, he was nowhere to be found. Katsuki didn’t respond to texts, he was absent from the gym during his usual hours, and his dorm room was closed. You couldn’t just go to Kirishima and say: hey, I’m trying to figure out why Katsuki gave me head, wanna help?
The moment you run into his fleeting ass, you're gonna squeeze out the answer.
An opportunity came soon when you spotted him sneaking into the laundry room. It was a cramped space with washing machines and dryers. Fortunately, you had little thieves around dorms so people usually left their washing while it was in progress. There was a big chance you’d be alone.
Running to the door you yanked them open and rushed inside. Indeed, it was only him crouched to the lowest washing machine, putting mostly black clothes inside.
“You’re here for round two?” He smirked and you gasped.
It took you by surprise, you expected yelling or awkwardness. Nevermind. You shook off your initial stumble.
“Can you explain what the fuck do you mean by all this?” You gestured in the air as if all this was a laundry basket and an empty bottle of washing liquid scattered on the floor.
Katsuki hummed, shrugging his shoulders. He dropped the halfway loaded laundry on the floor and crawled closer to you, gripping your hips in a familiar manner. This time, you were wearing a skirt. Your back hit the door.
“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” It fell from his lips as if he was asking whether you want vanilla or chocolate ice-cream.
Your mind ran in circles like a hamster in its ball. Start a fuss and possibly fight with Katsuki or let him do his thing and cum? Uhh.
He took your panties off completely, throwing them into his washing machine but left your skirt. Halfway in, when your chest was heaving and hips pushed further and further away from the door you heard a sound on the other side.
The doorknob shook and there was a mumble on the outside. You dug your feet into the ground and Katsuki put one of his hands to shut it closed. Yet, he didn’t stop what he was doing. Both of your palms also pushed into the thin wood making you unable to quiet the panting and loud gulps. You bit your lip and it would break if something wasn’t stuffed inside your mouth.
Taking a sharp breath through your nose, you smelled him. He stuffed your mouth with one of the shirts from his laundry. You threw him a dirty look from above to which he only smirked, going back down.
“It’s locked.” The muffled voice on the other side said.
“Maybe maintenance.” A different one answered.
When they were gone, you could finally cum, biting hard into Katsuki’s shirt. You steadied yourself on a drier afterwards while he wiped his mouth with a spare T-shirt before throwing all the leftover laundry inside the washing machine and starting it.
“My pants.” You breathed out, you were still coming back to earth.
“Ops.” He threw and with a single long stride, escaped the murder scene.
Your walk of shame in the short skirt, without panties on was long.
The third time you could talk to him happened only a day later.
You were studying with Kirishima, or more like tutoring him for free, in the library. Kirishima also had a single room in the dorms but his was far more trashy and you didn’t crave to spend time in that man cave. Instead you booked a private study room. It had a small round table, a few chairs and switches to plug in electric devices.
Halfway through your study Kirishima stated he needed to go to the bathroom. You nodded and the man left. Only after a minute did you hear the door open once more.
“A line in the mens’? Unbelievable.” You chuckled but upon looking up, you were met with a nasty grin.
“Kirishima told me you guys were studying.” He cornered you. “You know the deal.”
Katsuki slipped behind your chair as you whipped your head around to stop him. He placed both of his hands on your shoulders, surprisingly gentle.
“Just tell me to stop.”
Oh fuck you you pretty bastard. Is what you thought.
“Oh fuck you.” Is what you said and you wanted to add something but he pushed your upper half into the table simultaneously yanking the chair from under your butt.
It took a lick for your knees to get kinda soft and your morale to stumble between being a decent person or getting this unbelievably lucky chance for a third time.
“Can we at least do it after I finish with Kiri? I can come to your room as quickly as I am able to.” You whispered.
“Or you can call the dumbass and buy me a few minutes.” Katsuki muttered between your folds.
You cursed under your breath and grabbed your phone. Pick up, pick up, pick up, goddamn. Kirishima could be back any second. Although nothing terrible would happen if he came in on you, it would be embarrassing like hell. Finally, you heard his voice on the other side of the line.
“I’m just coming back, literally wait a second-”
“No!” You shouted into the device. “I mean.”
Katsuki seemed to slow down between your tights. Good, the bastard is not stupid and he cut you some slack this time.
“I’m sorry but I just really need a coffee, I thought you’d still be somewhere around the entrance.” You pieced together a makeshift excuse.
“I can go back. ‘Ts the least I can do for your help.” Kirishima laughed so genuinely it made you feel slightly bad for playing him like this.
“Yeah, uh, it really is boring like hell.” You laughed. The whole phone call made you unable to focus on Katsuki who was behind you and you really wanted to go back to minding him. “If I can be honest it would be lovely if you could bring me coffee from that cafe down and opposite of the library. You know which. I slept really bad and need their double espresso.” Kiri, please just say yes!
“Of course, anything for you.”
That sweetheart. Kirishima was really the perfect man, contrary to Katsuki who just now, at the very end of your call, decided to be an absolute asshole.
You felt two of his fingers push past your entrance and force your walls open. A breath got caught in your throat.
“Okay thanks, bye!” You smashed the end call button. “What the fuck are you do-”
But he was turning you around, lapping his tongue over your clit, moving his fingers in and out of your cunt all of which with closed eyes and a blissful look on his face. You gave in, because it felt so good.
After a while you finished all over his face, for the third time this week.
“I told you not to finger me.” You complained, dressing yourself in fear of Kirishima being too neat in his mission to get you coffee.
“I know and I didn’t like it. So I had to distract you.” He smirked, resting his hip on the table.
At that moment, Kirishima came inside with two paper cups, steam escaping the small opening in the lids.
“Oh, hi dude! I didn’t think you’d come here. I’d buy you coffee too.” Kirishima chirped.
“Forget about it, I was supposed to do something anyway. Just came in to say hi.” The blonde flicked his hand in the air. “Oh, and if you want-” He turned to you. “You can come to my room later and finish what we were talking about.” With that he slipped past the door leaving you with a grimace and Kirishima with a dumbfounded expression.
“What were you guys talking about?” The redhead asked.
“Nothing important, just about transplanting a small plant his mum gave him. I’ll help him later, he has already managed to nearly kill it.”
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hi i don't think this is a real request but for franco colapinto it's kinda cliche ikr (but i believe in your writing skills so)
older reader (u don't need to specific the age) who refuse to be with franco bc she thinks it's better for him to be with someone close his age, but ofc they're in love and franco is down bad for her even though she's kinda cruel sometimes
so angst with a happy end? or at least something realistic? idk and it's up to u to add other stuff! *oh and they're from the same country or foreigners etc*
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“She calls me kidz bop” — Franco colapinto x fem!reader
Word count 3.5k
Warnings — Angst, heavy makeouts allusion of smut
This isn’t as good as I thought it would be
Tagged— @crispysoup318 @meeel-things @bieberismysoulmate @dejavuontrack @barcelonaloverf1life @nominsgirl @bluebluesol @chenlesbitxh @ironmaiden1313 @chunkpiboli @kr7-i-know-what-im-doing
Franco watched as y/n stood talking to her fellow driver Something deep inside him wished that she gave him the same attention as she did the rest of them. It didn’t matter if they had feelings for each other. It also didn’t matter that she was so cruel to him and gave him nicknames like Kidz Bop, Teeny Bopper, or Rug Rat.
He didn’t mind the teasing or the nicknames, he could take it. He’s used to being teased by others but not by the one he’s falling for, and he didn’t want to admit it but a part of him knew he was slowly concluding that he loved her. Franco leaned against the garage wall, staring at the ground with his hands shoved in his pockets.
He continued to observe y/n’s body language. The way she stood with her arms crossed, the way she laughed at the other driver’s jokes, even the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was maddening.
Franco clenched his jaw, trying to hold back his frustration. He wanted to speak to her but he was uncertain of what to say. As he watched her, he noticed she was glancing his way. A small smile crept onto his lips as he realized that she was looking his way. He felt a flutter in his chest, a mix of hope and nervousness. He took a deep breath, summoning his courage, and finally stepped forward.
As he approached, he could feel her eyes on him, studying him. He tried to act casually, his hands still in his pockets, but he couldn’t help the way his heart was racing. He cleared his throat, “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”
Y/n turned her attention away from her co-drivers and looked at Franco, raising an eyebrow. “Sure, what do you want?”
Franco swallowed hard, trying to ignore the coolness in her voice. He took a step closer, not caring that they had an audience, “Can we talk somewhere a little more private?”
Y/n nodded, gesturing for him to follow her out of the garage. Once they were alone in a secluded area, she turned to him with her arms crossed. “What's on your mind, kidz bop?”
Franco took a deep breath, trying to ignore the nickname. He knew it was her way of keeping him at arm’s length, but it stung nonetheless. He looked into her eyes, gathering his courage. “I wanted to talk to you about us…”
Y/n’s expression remained neutral, but he could see a flicker of something in her eyes. She raised an eyebrow, “What about us?”
Franco rubbed the back of his neck, nervous. “Well, I just wanted to know…if there’s ever a chance for us?”
Y/n let out a snort, “A chance? Kidz bop, you’re way too young for me. You need to find someone your age.” Franco's heart sank at her words, but he tried to hide his disappointment. “I don’t care about age. I just want to be with you.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, very romantic. But I’m not interested in dating some kid who still has a curfew. I need someone more mature.” Franco clenched his fists in frustration, “I’m not a kid. I’m just as mature as any other driver out there.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, sure you are. I bet you still have a teddy bear in your bed and your mom still picks out your outfits.” Franco's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he tried to maintain his composure. He couldn’t deny that he had a teddy bear, but he certainly hadn’t asked his mom for fashion advice since he was 12.
“I’m a grown man,” he protested, “Just because I’m a rookie doesn’t mean I’m immature.” Y/n leaned against the wall, still looking unimpressed. “Oh? Prove it then, Teeny Bopper. Show me how mature you are.”
Franco was determined to show her that he wasn’t just some naïve rookie. He took a step closer to her, his heart pounding. “Fine. I’ll prove it to you.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden confidence. “Alright, I’m listening. Go ahead and impress me, rug rat.” Franco took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He was suddenly keenly aware of how close they were standing to each other. He could smell her perfume, a soft, musky scent that made his head spin.
He looked into her eyes, unflinching. “I’ll prove it by showing you that I’m serious about this. I’m not just some kid who doesn’t know what he wants. I know what I want, and it’s you.” Y/n’s expression softened just a bit. She was impressed by his directness, but still unconvinced. “You’re young, Franco. You don’t know what you want. You just think you do.”
Franco took another step closer to her. “I may be young, but I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I’m done with being treated like a kid. I know what I want, and I’m not going to give up until I get it.” Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his words, but she tried to maintain her cool facade. “You’re not going to give up, huh? You’re stubborn, aren’t you?”
Franco smirked, feeling a rush of confidence. “I can be when I want something. And I want you.”
He took another step forward, closing the gap between them. He was now standing so close to her that he could feel the heat of her body. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as he stepped closer. She hadn’t expected him to be so direct. She could feel the heat radiating off of him, and she had to fight the urge to reach out and touch him. But she held her ground, refusing to let him see how her resolve was starting to crumble.
“You don’t even know what you’re getting yourself into, kidz bop,” she teased, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice just before she walked away from him. Franco watched her walk away, a mix of frustration and determination coursing through his veins. He knew he had gotten to her this time, he had seen the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.
He wasn’t going to give up, not until he had proven to her that he was serious. He was in love with her, and he wasn’t going to let her brush him off like some naive rookie.
Once again Franco found himself watching and observing y/n and this time was brought out of his thoughts by a large hand clapping him on the shoulder “You good there Franco?” Charles asked. Franco looked over at him and then back at y/n whose eyebrows were bunched up together and her lips in a thin tight line.
“Yeah I’m good,” Franco answered, looking down at his feet. Charles chuckled at Franco’s obvious lie. He followed Franco’s gaze to y/n, his smirk growing even more as he looked at her. “You have it bad don’t you?” Charles teased. Franco quickly shoved Charles’s arm off him as he gave him a nasty glare.
Charles cackled in response. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. How long are you gonna sit on your ass and not do something?” Charles said.
“There’s a reason why I haven’t,” Franco said, still stubbornly keeping his eyes on y/n.
“Which is?” Charles prompted.
“She’s too old for me,” Franco said. Charles’s jaw dropped.
“Bullshit! She’s what, 26? You’re 21! It’s not that big of an age difference, "he said.
“She thinks it is,” Franco said. Charles shook his head in disbelief at Franco’s stupidity.
“Goddamnit Franco. You’re a pretty handsome kid, why are you letting her have that much control over you? If you feel something for her then do something about it” Charles said.
Franco tore his eyes from y/n to look at Charles “There is something between us. But every time I try to talk to her about it, she shuts it down. Says that she’s too old for me and would rather I find someone my age” he confessed. Charles let out a scoff “She doesn’t mean it. She’s just running away because she doesn’t want to admit her feelings for you” he said.
Franco shook his head. “You don’t know that and besides she’s mean to me and she calls me kidz bop, teeny bopper, or rug rat.”
Charles rolled his eyes “Franco I’ve known y/n for much longer than you being mean to someone is her love language trust me the meaner she is to someone the more she cares for them. She calls me a pretty boy. She calls Fernando an old man. I've seen the way she looks at you. There’s no way she feels nothing.” Franco’s heart skipped a beat at Charles’s words.
“W-what do you mean ‘the way she looks at me’” he asked.
Charles smirked again “I mean you’re constantly in her line of sight whenever you’re in a room. Anytime she’s near you, she always seems to be hyper-aware of it. I don’t think she’s as immune to your charms as she makes herself seem.”
As much as Franco wanted to believe what Charles was telling him it was too hard. He’s seen the way y/n talks to the other drivers. They weren’t like that.
“I get that your old ass has much more relationship experience than I do. But you just don’t understand” Franco muttered, refusing to look at Charles. Charles shook his head at Franco “You’re a lot denser than I thought you were. If you’re gonna waste your opportunity with her then that’s your problem, not mine” he said before he sauntered off, leaving Franco by himself.
Franco stood there, his mind reeling from Charles's words. He couldn't shake the feeling that Charles was right about y/n. That she had feelings for him beneath all her harsh words and belittling nicknames. But he couldn't be sure.
Franco looked over to where y/n was still standing, her expression still tight and cold. He tried to muster up the courage to approach her again, but he couldn’t find the words. He was too overwhelmed by the possibility that she could feel something for him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever rejection came his way. Franco began to slowly make his way toward her, his heart pounding in his chest. With each step, he felt as though he was walking through mud, his legs refusing to cooperate.
Finally, he stood in front of her, his eyes locked on hers. “Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his voice much softer than he had intended.
She looked up at him, her eyes flickering with an unreadable expression. For a moment, he thought she was going to brush him off like she had so many times before.
“Fine. What do you want?” she asked, her voice as icy as ever. Franco swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. He had practiced all the things he wanted to say in his head, but now that he was standing in front of her, all of his words seemed to have vanished.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I just wanted to talk to you about us." "I know we're colleagues, but there's something more there, isn't there?" he said, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.
She paused for a moment, her expression faltering for just a split second before her walls went back up. "Whatever gave you that idea?" she asked, feigning indifference. Franco took a small step forward, closing the space between them. He could feel the heat radiating off of her body, making him heady with desire.
"The way you look at me. The way you always watch me. I know you feel it too. You're just too scared to admit it." Her breath caught in her throat as he neared. She tried to pretend that his words did not affect her, but he could see the subtle change in her breathing, the way her body seemed to gravitate towards him.
"Scared? I'm not scared of anything, least of all you," she retorted, hoping he didn't notice the waver in her voice. "Then prove it," he said, his voice suddenly low and intense. He was so close to her now that he could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her pulse fluttered in her neck.
He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against the softness of her skin. Her breath hitched at his touch, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. She fought the urge to lean into his touch, to finally give in to the overwhelming amount of tension that hung in the air between them. But she forced herself to take a step back, pulling herself out of his reach. "I don't have anything to prove to you," she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly.
Franco couldn’t help the pang of disappointment that shot through him as she pulled away. He knew he was getting under her skin, but she was still fighting him.
But he had a card he hadn't played yet.
“Then why is this so hard?” he asked, his tone soft and gentle. “If we're just colleagues, then it should be easy for you to turn me down. Right?”
Inwardly, she was cursing his stubbornness. But he was right, and she was losing the battle with herself. She had been trying so hard to keep her feelings locked away, to deny the attraction that was growing hotter and hotter each day.
She tried to come up with a witty retort, but her throat was dry, and her mind was fuzzy. The way he was looking at her, the way he was so sure of himself, it was chipping away at her defenses. He took another step closer, closing the gap between them again. “Come on, admit it. This isn’t just some one-sided thing. You feel it too.”
She could feel his breath on her skin, the heat of his body so close to hers. She thought about denying it, pushing him away once more, but the words wouldn’t come.
Instead, she did the one thing she had promised herself she wouldn’t do.
She melted.
It was as if all the tension and resistance she had built up just disappeared. She found herself leaning into him, her body drawn to his like a magnet.
She looked up at him, her eyes betraying the vulnerability and desire that she had tried so hard to hide. "Franco..." she whispered. The sound of his name on her lips sent a jolt of electricity through his body. He could see the change in her eyes, the way they darkened with emotion.
He moved closer to her, his arms closing around her waist, pulling her against him. He leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from her ear. "Say it. Say you want me." The heat of his body against hers combined with the huskiness of his voice sent shivers down her spine. She closed her eyes, her body molding itself to his.
She took a shaky breath, her voice wavering. "I want you, Franco. Damn it, I want you." A rush of satisfaction and relief washed over him as he heard her words. He’d finally broken through her defenses, and now he had her exactly where he wanted her.
He pulled her even closer, his hands slipping under the hem of her shirt, his fingers tracing the bare skin of her back.
“You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that," he murmured against her neck. She let out a soft gasp as he touched her skin, her body arching into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair.
She had tried to deny it for so long, but now that she had finally given in, it was like an unstoppable force of nature. All she wanted was to be closer to him, to feel him completely. He claimed her mouth in a deep, searing kiss, his body pressing her against the wall. His hands roamed over her skin, exploring every curve and contour of her body. It felt like a dam had broken, and all the pent-up desire that had been building between them was suddenly unleashed.
She returned his kiss with equal fervor, her tongue tangling with his. She ran her hands along his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt.
She wanted more, so much more. She was drowning in the sensation of him, losing herself in the heat and the passion of their embrace. Franco pressed himself against her, trapping her between the wall and his body. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin.
He could feel her coming undone, her body growing more and more pliant against his. He could tell that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her, and it was driving him insane. She let out a desperate gasp as he found a particularly sensitive spot beneath her ear, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. She couldn't think straight, her mind fuzzy with desire. The only thing that existed at that moment was the feel of his body against hers, the taste of his skin, and the way his hands sent sparks of pleasure dancing over her skin.
He continued to explore her body, his hands drifting down her sides, his fingertips tracing the edge of her waistband. He dipped his head lower, his lips trailing along her collarbone, then down her chest, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses on her skin. She whimpered and shivered beneath his touch, her body becoming a raw nerve of sensation. Her hips rocked against his, seeking more contact, more friction. She felt like she was on fire, burning up from the inside out.
He could feel her body reacting to his every touch, the way her hips moved against his, the way her hands clutched at his hair, pulling him closer. He could hear the soft gasps and moans escaping her lips, the sound sending a flood of heat straight to his core.
He pulled away just long enough to look at her, his eyes dark and intense.
“God, I love it when you make those sounds,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. The desire in his gaze, the rough rasp of his voice, it was too much for her. She reached up and pulled him back down to her, her lips crashing against his in a fierce kiss.
Her body was overwhelmed by the intensity of her desire for him, the need for him almost unbearable. He met her kiss with urgency, his tongue delving into her mouth, claiming her completely. He pressed himself against her, his body fitting perfectly against hers.
He let his hands slide down to her thighs, lifting her so her legs wrapped around his waist, pinning her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around him, her body flush against his. She could feel every muscle, every contour, every inch of him. She couldn't get enough, she wanted to be even closer.
She tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him tight against her, her tongue exploring his mouth with feverish desperation. He pressed himself harder against her, his body desperate to get even closer to hers. He let his hands slide up to her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.
He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. He wanted to taste every inch of her, to mark her as his. She tilted her head back, exposing her neck to him, her body arching into his touch. A soft moan escaped her lips as he licked and sucked at her skin, his stubble sending sparks of pleasure dancing across her nerve endings. He found a particularly sensitive spot just below her ear, and he lingered there, his lips and tongue working her into a frenzy. He could feel her responding to his touch, her body trembling against his, moans and gasps escaping from her lips.
He nipped and sucked at her skin, leaving a trail of red marks down her neck and collarbone. She was completely undone, her mind consumed with nothing but him and the pleasure he was causing her. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body writhing against his.
Each flick of his tongue and each press of his lips sent shockwaves of ecstasy through her body, stoking the fire that burned within her. He pulled back slightly, taking in the sight of her - flushed and breathless, completely at his mercy. He wanted to claim her completely, to make her his in every way possible.
He lowered her down just a little bit, his body still pressed close to hers, and he looked into her eyes, his gaze intense and hungry. She gazed up at him, her eyes dark and hooded with desire. Her hair was tousled, and her shirt wrinkled where his hands had been. She looked wrecked already and they'd barely even started.
She met his gaze, her own just as hungry and intense. She wanted him just as badly as he wanted her, and nothing was going to stop them now.
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jinnie-ret · 19 hours
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cover me
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poly!stray kids x fem reader
genre: angst, fluff at the end
content warnings: stress from uni/work
word count: 1.5k
summary: money, work, school. it was only a matter of time before the boys would see her crumble, and be there to pick up the pieces
requested: @straykidsnerd255
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Every time she tried to take one step forward, something would ultimately knock her back twice as far. Finally having a very generously paid job as an intern at a big company was serving her well, yet with the return of going back to university, finding a work-school balance was becoming difficult.
Truly, that was the hardest thing. She had great people around her, those being her uni friends or her loving boyfriends, the renowned Kpop band, Stray Kids. The way they cared for her and each other with such strong morals and support meant that surely it would be easy to confide in them.
Not always, especially in this case.
Other times she would be thankful for the fact that her partners all had a longer practice at the company, not to their own detriment of course, but because it gave her more time to get herself together and paint on a calm picture of 'I'm definitely not struggling right now and on the brink of my second breakdown of the day'.
However, this time she really needed them. The stress had amounted to such a level that she felt it right through to her bones, and so she found herself crying over the smallest things, which in turn let out the release of her biggest pain.
"Stupid shoes, why aren't they organised, there's too many," she sniffled, sat on her knees by the front door as she began to cry at shoes. Yes, shoes. Her boyfriends' shoes to be specific. She would have thought at least Seungmin would have berated the others for their lack of organisation at this point but even his were out of place.
"They didn't even match them back up," she cried, and more tears spilled out, "oh, why am I even crying right now?"
Sometimes being in such a state meant that it was hard to understand your own feelings, your thoughts far too occupied with the wants of other people to be able to manage the basic needs of your own.
Eventually she gave up on the shoes and wiped her tears, walking slowly over to the sofa and letting her body fall into it with a soft thump. She tugged a soft velvety blanket over herself, one that Felix probably picked out due to it's plush exterior, and instinctively cocooned herself. Her heart felt heavy, her eyes hot and burning as the tears kept falling. All it took was a reminder on her phone for a work assignment, and a uni assignment, to trigger a sob to catch her throat.
"Too much," she sobbed to herself, trying to muffle the sounds even though there was no one else to hear them, "it's too much."
She was wrong. Not about her feelings, gosh, no, but the fact that she thought she was alone.
"Hey, hey, what's going on?" Hyunjin was crouched down right in front of her trembling form, almost hidden if it wasn't for the blanketed lump that had been shaking so much it couldn't have been natural.
His hand brushed her hair back and his thumb rubbed under her eyes, catching the tears that seemed to keep appearing. Hyunjin watched on in deep concern, just like their other boyfriends did the more they realised something was wrong.
"What? When, when did you get back?" she gulped down her sobs, or attempted to, even though her words still came out messily. She sat up, the blanket falling off her shoulders and resting around her hips.
"Don't worry about that, love. Just tell us what's going on, yeah? What's wrong?" Chan held her against him immediately, taking a seat ñext to her. The only time his arm that was wrapped around her moved away, was to let Jeongin lift the blanket back up to keep her warm.
"I don't know," she sniffed indignantly, coughing lightly through her cries when she tried to clear her throat. Her arm pressed against the lower half of her face.
"You're getting yourself in a state now, come on, move your arm, you know you don't have to hold back in front of us," Seungmin sighed sadly, seeing his girlfriend so stressed. He pulled her arm towards her lap which he was sat in front of, holding her hand with one of his own and the other rubbing her knee.
"Thanks," she said sarcastically at first, until hearing the rest of what he had to say and tilting her head up to the ceiling to blink away the rest of her tears.
Chan pressed a kiss against her forehead, and everyone was around her to offer comfort, Felix and Changbin in particular wanting to jump out of their seats on the adjacent sofa to take all the pain away.
"What's got you to upset, jagi?" Jisung pouted, his own eyes glistening as he saw how upset you were.
"It's stupid, really," she began, rubbing at her eyes roughly, Hyunjin subsequently tutting at her and pulling her other hand away that Seungmin wasn't occupying.
"We're not doing that, jagi," Minho shook his head, brows furrowed, looking down at the floor with his hands folded together, "if it's upset you, it's not stupid."
"Exactly, please just tell us, you know we just want to help, that's all," Felix quickly pitched in, face crumpled sadly much like your own.
"There's just too much going on really. You know? Like, oh-" she had to cut herself off when her voice cracked with emotion again.
"You're ok, take your time," Jeongin gave a small smile and nod to reassure her.
"We're listening, baby," Changbin's raspy voice rung out.
"I've got a good job right? Like, it pays so well, but now with going back to uni it's just like I don't have time for anything. I-i'm having to squeeze in hours where I don't have them because my boss won't help me work around my timetable," she explained, the clashing of two parts of her life and time issues being what was clearly causing so much turmoil.
"I'm sorry, darling," Chan tugged her closer to him, a frown on his face.
"Don't be sorry, not your fault, is it? I'm just so tired, I'm exhausted," she admitted, pressing her lips together and taking a deep breath in order to not cry again.
"We'll help you figure this out, ok?" Hyunjin leant his head against her shoulder.
"Ok, ok," she let out a deep breath and nodded.
"I think you need to focus on uni, love. If work can't meet you in the middle then, it's hard," Seungmin trailed off, not wanting to fully leave her in the dark but not wanting to be too blunt.
"What do you think, jagi?" Jisung wondered, curled up against Minho, one leg hanging over the older's lap.
"I don't know. I don't even wanna make any decisions right now," she shook her head tiredly, blinking a couple times.
"That's understandable, baby, how about we just relax for now, ok?" Changbin suggested.
"And if anything else is upsetting you, please tell us," Chan huffed with a knowing smile.
"Ok, promise," she grinned.
₊˚⊹♡
She must have fallen asleep without realising, as she found herself waking up to Jeongin and Felix giggling over something on the latter's phone.
"What's going on?" she murmured tiredly, pressing her face deeper into... Jisung's chest, it took one whiff of his cologne to be able to tell it was him.
"Had a good sleep then, hmm?" Minho poked her forehead, slow blinking at her.
"Mm, yeah," she nodded, "Lixie, Innie, what's funny?"
The two froze, looking at her a bit guiltily.
"Well, umm, you know we have that camera in the hallway, just in case for security, like if someone broke in or-" Jeongin began to ramble awkwardly,
"I know, yeah," she nods, adjusting her head against Jisung's chest as he loosely keeps an arm around her, securing her to him.
"We're actually sorry for laughing, babe, it's just... You were crying over our shoes earlier?" Felix can't even keep eye contact as he explains.
Jisung stifles a laugh and so she slaps his chest playfully through her mild embarrassment, making him yell out dramatically.
"What's Sungie done now?" Hyunjin asks as he flops onto the sofa, entering the room again after leaving Chan, Seungmin and Changbin to managing the cooking.
"It's more about what our jagi did," Minho teases, looking at her with a smug grin.
"Guys, I was stressed, leave me aloneeee," she huffed, but it didn't stop the light laughter that filled the room knowing that she wasn't completely upset about it.
"Sorry, but..." Jeongin chuckles again, "the way you throw the shoes away from you is so funny!"
"What did our shoes do to you?!" Felix laughed again as he watched the video on replay.
"They smelt bad," she grinned happily, teasing them back as revenge, "specifically Ji's."
"Yah!"
Jisung gave her a noogie, keeping her trapped in his arms. He couldn't let her discredit him like that.
"Sorry! Sorry! Hahaha!"
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
listeners: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @kpopmenace143 @haodore @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @his-angell @2minstan @skzoologist @lovingchan @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria @theo4eve @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse
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nix-nihili · 1 day
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Thinking about how Charles probably never tells Edwin about his father to the full extent because it's partially about vulnerability and the shame that comes with it.
It's about having to be around this one person day and night and not being able to open up to them fully because you can't just... walk away.
You can't just carve your chest open to place your beating heart in the other person's hands and walk away. You have to sit there and watch what they'll do with it. Whether they'll crush it and leave you with a bloody mess while saying that it doesn't really matter or treat it with so much tenderness you don't think you deserve.
(Because how could he ever deserve tenderness?)
See, Edwin is using these cases to build a case for himself against Hell. He's trying to prove himself here. We know this. But Charles is also trying to prove himself. Prove that he's not like his father or Brad and Hunter or the Devlin dad.
That he's not a creature of violence.
Because a part of him believes he can be just as bad as them. That sometimes he is. This is an insecurity of his. How can he tell the one person who seems to see nothing but good in him a glaring flaw? Who's to say that if he reveals things about this huge insecurity that Edwin won't realise the truth in it and agree with it?
(Crush his heart and leave it a bloody mess but at least it will be honest. At least the blood will be deserved.)
Or. Or Edwin will say that Charles is nothing like any of them. That he is good and kind and wonderful. That his hands are not made for hurting, that his purpose is not to ruin lives. That he is someone worthy of love.
(So much tenderness that feels undeserved, that feels worse because how has he managed to convince Edwin of all of this? How can Edwin believe any of this? Is this real or is he just being placated?)
So, if he takes Edwin up on his initial offer ("You can tell me anything"), he's revealing parts of himself he hasn't told anybody about in decades. To tell his best mate first? To be that vulnerable and not have a place to hide afterwards? To live with the fact that Edwin now knows about his insecurities and oh god does Edwin think about it? Does he run that conversation in his head over and over, picking apart the details until the picture is clearer and uglier? Has Edwin realised how much Charles doesn't deserve his kindness? His companionship? His love?
He can't do that. Fuck, how is he ever meant to do that? How is he ever meant to live with the shame of having told someone he has to see every day and wonder if they ever think that it's a bit hypocritical? Or worse, a bit ridiculous. A bit laughable. Not a big deal at all. That he's just been making a mountain out of a molehill and really he should leave it well and alone.
(even if a part of him knows Edwin could never do that. that Edwin is always kind. it is doing him a disservice to think of him this way. but sometimes the other part of him that cowers in fear is too loud.)
All in the past, right? Doesn't matter. He should really get over it. He'd been raised to get over it. Just another fact of life. So many people have had it worse. Hell, Edwin has had it worse. This is nothing compared to it.
(So, then why does it still haunt him?)
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hemipenal-system · 2 days
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If I consent to a man breaking my jaw and ripping out my nails, the man who agrees to do it is a bad person. An extreme example but it should drive the point home, no?
Doesn't matter if I consent to being choked. Whoever WANTS to choke someone out to get off is a bad person.
Whoever wants to pretend to be raping or abusing someone to get off is a bad person.
"an extreme example but it should drive the point home, no"
no?? if you know the risks and accept them and give unhindered, clear and informed consent, then no, there's actually nothing wrong with someone doing that stuff to you. because, and viewers at home can say it with me, THAT IS HOW CONSENT WORKS
but y'know, what we're *actually* gonna look at here is the assumption that the person doing that to you is a man. maybe y'all would stop seeing kink as an inherent expression of patriarchy if you internalized the fact that not every man is dominant and not every woman is submissive. also, you know, that there are gay people.
but no, because that would require you to actually deconstruct the ideas you have in your head about how every man has to be an aggressor and how testosterone makes people violent and how every man secretly wants to do this kind of thing to every vulnerable, weak woman, the implication being of course that any woman who engages in this kind of thing by choice has something wrong with her
which is fully just misogyny but thats a tangent from the actual point here
"Doesn't matter if I consent to being choked. Whoever WANTS to choke someone out to get off is a bad person."
furthermore, i think you should also deconstruct this idea that kink spaces are all dominants who want to hurt their submissives, when in reality it's a dominant doing those things because they know their sub likes it just as much if not more of the time.
let's look at that "doesn't matter if i consent to being choked" line. um. yes it does?? knowing your risks and giving informed consent is literally the entire thing here. you do know that there are safe* ways to choke someone that are legitimately taught to people in an attempt to minimize permanent harm from that sort of thing, right? when you see things like "don't use thin metal handcuffs on your partner" and "keep safety shears within arm's reach when doing ropeplay" and "drink gatorade and go pee after sex" you know those are all things people do to reduce risk, right?
(* no form of breathplay is 100% safe! know the risks and do research on how to minimize them before you play!!!)
"Whoever wants to pretend to be raping or abusing someone to get off is a bad person."
hey look at that key word i italicized in that quote for your ease of reading! it's all pretend! because, once again, viewers at home say it with me, THAT IS HOW CONSENT WORKS
there's no actual rape or abuse happening if you have proper consent and safe word setups in place. the key to this whole thing, which is why any of this stuff is actually possible to do ethically, is the fact that, at any time for any reason at all, either the dominant or the submissive can stop the scene. literally all kink is, is an ongoing, revokable agreement between at least two people to do things that might not be ethical irl.
(before y'all toss another strawman at this, yes there are people who break consent rules, and yes they get tossed out of kink spaces for it)
kink is fucking theater. when hamlet stabs polonius, you don't accuse hamlet's actor of being a murderer. this is morally the exact same thing as going to the theater and watching people talk in iambic pentameter and stab each other.
there's also kinks that have basically negligible risk of temporary or permanent harm, just so you know, but of course you're not going to mention those ones. you know, because you're a weirdo who just wants to police what people do in the bedroom
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Just discovered what "littermate syndrome" is and I'm disgusted with colonizers
Nothing is sacred that threatens their place of power no matter how minor that place is; they can't stand the thought of not being the center of someone else's universe.
I can't imagine the battles they must have in their heads to feel so superior to everything and simultaneously so scared of losing that unnatural belief in superiority that they can't even let dog siblings be around each other. Because even that tiniest inkling of having an actual community with others is a threat to their place of power.
All this oppression to maintain their delicate sense of safety which wouldn't be in danger to begin with if they'd minded their fucking business and just let people be.
Not EVERYTHING is here for them to take.
To make this understandable and maybe even relatable, the way colonizers treat the earth and it's inhabitants is how the worst of men treat women under patriarchy. Theirs for the taking. If a woman- like unclaimed land- is unharmed and still full of potential it's because a man simply hasn't found her and taken that status from her yet. Her freedom entirely dependent on how long she can avoid being seen by someone who wants to brag about owning her and the way he changed her.
If colonizers were just men maybe it wouldn't take so long to understand why colonization and subjugation to this extent, like sexual assault, is so unforgivable.
But thats not the case. So instead of having half the population as allies I have to deal with reading articles about "littermate syndrome" because how else are you going to cope with abandoning your humanity for power while pretending it's "just the way things are"
If it was really 'just the way things are' I don't think they'd need so many rules and cops and laws and states, and even articles about dogs to enforce all those ideas. Colonizers fight their own humanity and try to convince everyone else to hate themselves just as much and then have the audacity to accuse anyone who doesn't of being "uncivilized" and a "savage"
Like how the value of a dog directly correlates to it's trainability.
And all dogs can be trained, right?
Some of them just need more intense training. Sometimes you just need to deprive them of everything and teach them every blessing is a gift their "owner" alone can give, right?
Gotta teach em manners and civility and to be grateful for the blessing of being owned. Cuz imagine if they weren't and they had to survive on your own? Imagine how awful freedom would be, (classic colonizer line).
How dangerous to be on your own, unowned. Could you imagine how much worse the next person would be? Being owned by a nice colonizer is salvation. And you should be lucky because some colonizers... Well the way they treat their property is unthinkable isn't it?
Like what they said to natives after we were upset at being thrust from our land and onto reservations. At least they gave us land, right? According to colonizers it's them we have to thank for electricity and having a pot to piss in anyway. They could've just killed us.
They say the same about Palestinians now. And about prisoners. And they said it during slavery. And they've certainly said it to children who misbehave (act like a child). They say it about dogs. The earth.
Everything could be worse, though, right?
What ungrateful savages we are for not understanding how happy we should be just to be given the gift of the next breath by people who insist on seeing themselves as gods above us like they don't bleed the same color with the same ease as the rest of us.
And boy do they hate being reminded of that
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fruitjoos · 2 days
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do you trust me?
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bully!patrick x reader
summary: bully patrick…. leads to [redacted] 18+
warnings friendly banter, light smut + i’m a little rusty so… be gentle
you met patrick when you were ten. he lived next door, just a skinny kid with dirty sneakers who always wanted to ride bikes. you didn’t mind. the two of you were inseparable then, tethered by boredom and proximity. you got older, though. things shift. kids don’t stay innocent, not for long.
by high school, patrick had drifted, caught up with the boys who reeked of arrogance and cigarettes, the ones who slammed lockers too hard and swaggered through the halls like they owned them. you were still you. quiet, stubborn. not the kind of person who backed down, but never loud about it either. when patrick started cracking jokes at your expense, you told yourself it didn’t matter. it shouldn’t, but god, did it sting. the way he laughed too loud, punched your shoulder too hard, joined his new friends in making you the punchline.
the first time he called you "freak" it landed like a rock to the chest. right there in the middle of a crowd, his voice sharp, eyes avoiding yours. you tried to brush it off, tried to pretend that the patrick from years ago was still buried somewhere under the snide smirks and dirty jokes. but when he started pulling your hair, burping in your face, it was harder to believe.
then there was the history project. the one that felt like a joke before it even started. partners, the teacher said, and you hoped, quietly, fiercely, that patrick wouldn’t be assigned to you. but life has a cruel sense of humor, doesn’t it? your name with his, as if the universe couldn’t resist rubbing salt in the wound. his groan reached your ears before yours even escaped your throat, and when he asked to switch partners, the heat rose to your cheeks. it was like you were something to be ashamed of, something small and pitiful.
after school, he found you at your locker, the same locker he used to stand next to, back when he wasn’t so... different. "what's up, loser," he muttered, shoulder checking you as if it were nothing, like you hadn’t spent summers kicking soccer balls in the backyard, sharing popsicles and trading comic books. now, all he had for you was sarcasm and a half hearted, "i’ll be over at six to work on the project."
he didn’t even wait for a reply. just walked off, hands shoved in his pockets like the conversation was already forgotten. his friends watched him go, smirking, like you were just another part of their cruel little game.
you got home, trying to shake off the sour taste the day left in your mouth. your dad asked how school was, but it was a formality. he wasn’t really listening, not past your shoulder, at least. "good," you lied, because the truth wasn’t worth the effort.
then the doorbell rang. you knew it was him before you even checked. he used to come over without knocking, back when things were simpler. now, it felt wrong, like he didn’t belong here anymore, yet he walked in like he still did, brushing past you without so much as a glance. the strap of his bag almost hit your face. typical.
your mom lit up like it was some reunion, like she didn’t notice the shift between you. “patrick, sweetheart,” she cooed, pulling him into a hug, her hand smoothing over his curls like she used to. it made your stomach twist, hearing her treat him like he hadn’t changed. but he had, hadn’t he?
you didn’t wait around for their small talk. upstairs felt safer, quieter. patrick followed, like he always had a right to, like he didn’t need to ask permission. he knew the way. he’d been in your room a hundred times. back then, when he was your friend. now, though, he was just the guy who sat behind you in class, yanked your ponytail when he wanted answers, and whispered insults under his breath.
funny how things turn out.
time dragged, the minutes between words heavy, like even the clock didn’t want to be there. patrick sat slouched at your desk, picking at his fingernails, bored already. he mentioned he only had an hour. just enough time before he had to meet his friends at the dump. a dive bar downtown, the kind of place that smelled like sweat and stale beer. you raised an eyebrow, asking if he was even old enough to get in, knowing full well he wasn’t. he pulled out a fake ID with a flourish, like it was something to be proud of. 23. five years older than his real age. you shook your head, a bitter scoff escaping before you could stop it.
"what?" he snapped, catching the edge in your voice. "stop being such a goody two shoes, will you?" he leaned in, voice dropping low, sharp. "no one likes a prude." his words, hissed in your own room, your space, hit harder than you thought they would. this wasn’t the boy who used to make you laugh until you cried. this wasn’t the patrick who snuck out to the park with you at midnight, just to talk about stupid dreams and shared your secrets with.
you could feel the tears gathering, uninvited, in the corners of your eyes. you didn’t want to cry. not in front of him. not when he’d see it as some kind of victory. but it was like he could sense it, the moment your breath hitched. he sighed, like the weight of your sadness was too much for him to carry. “don’t,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “don’t cry, okay?”
but it was too late, and the first tear slipped down your cheek. you sniffled, wiping at your face quickly, trying to pretend it wasn’t happening, but his tone changed. "i’m sorry," he said, almost too soft to believe. he said it again, as if repetition might make it real. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it.”
for a few long moments, neither of you said anything. you sat there, on the edge of your bed, while he fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket, the silence growing thicker, heavier.
then he spoke, too casually, too easily. “i know how to make you feel better.”
“lay back,” he said, his voice firmer than you expected, almost a command. you blinked, caught off guard. “what?” you asked, still wiping the tears from your cheeks, not sure if you heard him right.
“do you trust me?” he asked, and his eyes had that look again, the one that used to be familiar, the one that always dared you to go along with whatever half baked idea he had.
“no,” you scoffed, voice thick, still bitter from his words earlier. you didn’t even hesitate, but your chest tightened a little, because there was a time when that question wouldn’t have needed to be asked.
he tilted his head, the silent gesture pressing the question again, almost like a challenge. you sighed, exhaling the fight from your lungs. “fine,” you muttered, lying back from the edge of the bed. you didn’t know why you were giving in. maybe a part of you still believed that under all the rough edges, he was still the patrick you used to know.
his eyes scanned over your room for a second before grabbing something. “put this on,” he said, handing it to you.
you looked down at it, blinking in confusion. a pink sleeping mask, silky and soft to the touch. ridiculous, absurd. you stared at it, then at him, trying to make sense of the moment. “what... are you doing?” you asked, more to yourself than him.
he didn’t answer, just nodded toward the mask. you could tell he was waiting, watching, like the whole thing was some inside joke you weren’t in on yet. for reasons you couldn’t explain, you did as he said, slipping the mask over your head. maybe you were tired. maybe you just didn’t want to argue anymore. or maybe, somewhere deep down, you did still trust him, even if you hated admitting it.
you blinked, confused, the world blurring slightly behind the mask. there was no sound, no movement from patrick, just this heavy stillness. the quiet stretched on, unsettling, until suddenly, you felt his hands lifting up your skirt—firm, steady, grasping your thighs. he pulled them forward, guiding your legs around his shoulders.
“patrick?” your voice came out small, the confusion clear, but you couldn’t see his face, couldn’t read whatever expression he wore. just as his name left your lips, you felt him move, closing the space between you. and then, unexpectedly, a cold, slimy glob landed with a wet splat on your cunt. his lips met your soft, surprisingly already soaked pussy. soft, warmer than you imagined, pressing gently but with a certainty that made your heart lurch.
it was so sudden, so out of place in the middle of this strange, awkward moment that your mind couldn’t catch up to your body. for a second, you froze, not sure what to do or think. this was patrick. the same boy who had spent the past year mocking you, pulling at your hair, calling you names. but now, here he was, lapping up your juices, his breath mingling with the heat radiating from your core, like none of that had happened. like this was the only thing that mattered.
his velvety tongue swirled around your pink, swollen nub. your body jolted as his teeth nipped at it. your mouth hung open as you gripped onto the sheets, trying to ground yourself. the slurping sounds he made sent shivers up your spine, “fuck.” you gasped, almost uncontrollably. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing gentle kisses against your clit. almost like he was in love with it. in love with you. “i didn’t mean to make you cry.” he added, his warm breath adding to your pleasure. he asked if you forgive him and all you could do was nod, whimpering a small, “yes.” your eyebrows knitting together in satisfaction. his tongue flicked over your clit vigorously, making you come within seconds.
your hole clenched rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. your fingers tangled in a few of his curls. “when did you learn how to do that?” you panted, eyes still covered. he shrugged as if you could see him before pulling the mask from over your eyes. your cheeks instantly flushing when reality hit you. your ex best friend, bully or whatever just sucked an orgasm out of you. for fun. to please you. to make you forgive him. because he still cares, clearly.
he pressed his lips that were smothered in your liquids against your own. the taste of yourself soaking into your tongue. “you were my first experiment,” he murmured, his voice low. before you could process the weight of his words, he leaned in again, pressing another soft, almost calculated peck against your trembling lips.
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Musician Age Gap AU Pt 9
Weeks pass, and their evening phone calls continue. The timing varies, but its a rare day that Kara doesn't hear from Lena. Each call feels like a gift, as Kara remains conscious of the constraints on Lena's time, and the energy expended on days she does her shows.
But on those rare evenings where her phone stays quiet, Kara can't help the concern that tickles at the back of her mind. She manages to refrain from issuing a check in, certain that it would be considered a nag, or at the very least an entitlement to Lena's time.
The morning following one such evening, the first text she receives comes in after she settles behind her desk, ready to tackle a mountain of paperwork. When she opens the chat window, she's confused to see an image of a glass-paned wall of an office building.
It's not until she spots the building number that she realizes that it's *her* building.
She all but sprints to the lobby, bursting through the front doors to come to a sudden stop to see a black suv and a casually dressed Lena Luthor leaning against it.
When Lena beams, warmth pools in Kara's chest. She surges back into motion, breathlessly throwing her arms around Lena to squeeze long and hard.
"I wanted it to be a surprise," Lena says into her shoulder, seemingly content to remain in Kara's embrace as long as possible.
Kara laughs. "The best surprise. I've missed you."
When she pulls back, Lena all but bounces on her toes. "You down to play hookie with me?"
"Dodging another meeting?"
"Actually.... I miiiiight have cleared my schedule." From her puckish grin, Lena doesn't appear to feel all that guilty about it.
Kara's heart skips a beat. She can't remember the last time anyone has ever set aside time dedicated to her. It's been years since her last real committed relationship, and even then the time she spent with her partner had been perfunctory, a matter of course. It hadn't made her feel... special.
"Let me grab my purse."
---
They go to the movies. It's Lena's idea, but Kara is the one to choose the goofy comedy that has Lena in stitches before the end of the first act. And if the sound of Lena's giggling heats Kara's cheeks, who could blame her?
They continue to snack on their bucket of popcorn even as they leave the theater. Lena wears the same denim jacket over a zip up hoodie that she'd worn their first day in the park, and with her sunglass firmly in place, she almost looks like a normal person. No one seems to give them a second glance, for which Kara is deeply grateful for.
Selfishly, she wants to keep Lena for herself, for as long as possible.
"When's the last time you went on vacation?" Lena asks, apropro of nothing.
Kara blinks at the unexpected question. She takes time off every year, but she doubts her little staycations to relax and recharge are what Lena would consider a proper break.
"Define vacation," Kara hedges.
Lena laughs. "Time away, somewhere else. Maybe... with someone?"
Sensing the direction the conversation is headed, a thrill of adventure sparks in Kara's belly, even as she begins to talk her way out of it.
"Lena, I don't know..."
"I know, I know, but listen! I've got five days before my next show in Paris, and it's the longest stretch I'll have free for months, and... I want to spend those five days with you."
Kara stares at her. Lena rushes to fill the silence.
"We could go to Capri. Or the alps, if you want somewhere cooler? Or--"
"Yes," Kara interjects. Lena's rambling halts in surprise. Kara grins. "I don't care where we go."
Lena's answering smile puts the sun to shame.
---
Capri is gorgeous. Kara expects to them to be taken to another lavish hotel, but instead their driver heads to residential area, and when they stop, Kara finds herself at the gate of a sprawling villa.
"Wow."
Lena nudges her playfully. "Wait til you see the real view.
Kara follows Lena's lead. Carry-ons in hand, they make their way into the main area of the villa. When Lena places her bag on one of the long couches in the middle of the room, Kara does the same, then allows Lena to lead her by the hand to the verandah at the back.
The whitewashed terrace serves as the perfect frame for the vista that sprawls beyond the walled perimeter of the villa, all the way down to flat stretch of ocean reaching towards the horizon.
"Wow..." Kara breathes.
"I know, right?" Lena turns, sidling a little closer to press a chaste kiss to the corner of Kara's jaw. When her head rested on Kara's shoulder, Kara let her cheek rest atop it. "I'm glad you're here."
Kara sighs, surprisingly content. "Me too."
---
Though the villa's kitchen is fully stocked and equipped, Lena insists on going out for dinner. "I'm not about to stay in on a night like tonight," she says, and Kara offers little protest.
They choose the restaurant on sight alone, and the food is sumptuous and, once the sun goes down, decorated with a blanket of stars overhead. Lena looks stunning in a white shift dress, perfect for the weather and venue, and Kara's gaze roves in a certainly non-platonic way. She only feels a little bad about it when Lena catches her staring.
The other woman's gaze deepens as she reads Kara's appreciation in her expression, and a knowing smile curls her lips. When Lena's bare foot brushes Kara's shin beneath the table, Kara can't bring herself to pull away. She wants Lena, and she's rapidly running out of reasons to talk herself out of it.
Along the walk back to the villa, Kara points out as many constellations as she can recognize, only for Lena to laugh.
"There is no way I could possibly tell which stars you're pointing at," she says.
Rather than be deterred, Kara pulls them to stop. She positions herself behind Lena, her front pressing close against Lena's back. So close that she can feel the hitch of Lena's breath when Kara reaches one arm over her right shoulder, pointing at the brilliant anchor of the big dipper.
"There. You've got the bright one, which is Polaris. The north star. Follow it that way, and you can see the rest of Ursa Major."
Kara turns her chin to gaze down at Lena. The younger woman's skin glows in the moonlight, her hair nearly merging into the shadows. She looks ethereal against the moonlight off the sea, but in Kara's arms she's all to tangible.
"See it?"
"Yeah," Lena croaks. She tries again. "Yeah, I do." She shifts, reaching back to let one hand rest against Kara's hip. The touch is intimate though non-sexual-- a simple gesture to keep Kara exactly where she is. "Show me more?"
Kara does. She's able to point out most of the greeks-- Orion and Cassiopeia and Andromeda, among others. It's at least another hour before they get back to the villa, and the long walk leaves them melting into the couch the moment they sit.
Unable to keep from dozing off, even with the lights blazing, Kara wakes hours later to find Lena asleep on her shoulder. It doesn't even occur to her to move.
When next she wakes, however, Lena is nowhere to be found. Sunlight streams through the tall arched windows, illuminating the spacious room with a pale light that doesn't help this trip feel any less like a dream.
Stretching the kinks out of her back as she rises, Kara meanders to the kitchen, only to find it similarly empty. From there she explores the adjoining hallways, until the sound of hushed, harsh murmurs draws her towards one of the bedrooms.
Peeking through the open door, Kara spies Lena pacing, phone pressed tightly to her ear in agitation. Kara can't discern her words, but her tone is clear enough-- something is wrong.
Lena looks up when Kara gives the door a light push, and Kara is taken aback by the tears glittering in her eyes. Lena turns away slightly, muttering a swift "I have to go," before ending the call.
"I'm sorry," Lena grinds out, turning back towards Kara. "This-- this was a terrible idea, and I-- I shouldn't have pushed it--"
"Whoa, hey..." Kara interrupts gently. "What's wrong?"
Lena sniffs, before unlocking her phone to give to Kara. There, in all their telephoto glory, are a slew of photos-- of them. Here in Capri. One of them captures the moment Lena had kissed Kara's jaw the day before on the terrace, and others track their trek through the village and their dinner at the restaurant. The last one shows the two of them at the outlook, Lena pressed to Kara's front, with Kara's arm stretching towards the stars.
"I know--" Lena's voice cracks. "I know you didn't want this. That you didn't-- want to be seen with me."
Kara frowns. Papparazzi hasn't even been a thought in her mind, beyond one of their outings being interrupted by people hounding Lena. Her concern-- her *only* hesitation to committing towards something deeper-- has been the dread of losing Lena before having more than a taste of her.
"I swear, I didn't know they knew where we'd be," Lena continues. By now, quiet tears have spilled down her cheeks. "I didn't *know*--"
"Hey," Kara says sofly, cupping Lena's damp cheeks with both hands. "It's okay."
Lena shakes her head. "It's not," she croaks. "You didn't want this..."
"I want you."
The confession comes easier than Kara expects. It stills Lena to a mere tremble, her eyes taking on a hopeful glimmer through the tears.
"Anything else, I'll handle it."
Lena swallows, throat clicking. "*We'll* handle it?" she corrects, tentatively.
Offering a smile, Kara leans in and presses a soft kiss to Lena's lips.
"We," Kara confirms.
Lena exhales, tension bleeding from her in a visible whoosh. She steps Kara's arms when they open, nestling herself into the embrace as her hands grip tightly against Kara's shoulderblades.
"We'll do it together."
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