#could only clean one room before the pain got bad? that's still one more clean room

[werecreature-addicted]

Have you ever written about an amnesiac werewolf? Like the reader finds a poor lost soul in the forest and takes them in, unknowingly dooming herself to becoming a breeding pet when the moon strikes and his instincts take over? He doesn't know what's come over him. He really doesn't. :'(

TW: car accidents. dubcon. do i know anything about hospitals? no. shhh. enjoy the werewolf porn.

You've grown quite attached to John Doe. He came in three days ago, he'd been "found" naked wandering a forest road at night and gotten cleaned out by a driver in a pickup truck. The driver said he thought he hit a dog or a deer that had wandered onto the road and was horrified to see a man there instead lying bloody on the asphalt.

Despite how bad John Doe looked when he was wheeled into your clinic, he'd been recovering quite nicely. He was even conscious now although he didn't seem to remember anything from before the accident. That coupled with the fact that he was found naked in the woods, it was proving difficult to contact any friends or family who might be able to give a concrete identity.

You weren't too worried though. It was a small community, and you were sure someone who knew him would turn up eventually. As for you, this was a slow time of year for a humble trauma center doctor, you were able to spend lots of time with your favorite amnesiac. It was a little miraculous really how well he was recovering everything but his memory. If you didn't know any better you'd say it was supernatural.

You found yourself spending more and more time with your John Doe, he was sweet and funny, Not to mention he was very attractive, even bloody and bruised. Although the budding warmth you felt for him was tainted slightly both by the fact that he was your patient and the nagging worry in the back of your head that this wasn't the real him. This could all be a false personality that he would lose once he got his memories back.

You'd already started toying with a daydream where once recovered John Doe would still come by to visit you. You shake your head and try to dispel those fantasies from your mind. You mentally chided yourself, you weren't a teenager with a crush you should be handling yourself more professionally than this. Still, your heart raced when he smiled at you.

In the end, it wasn't a friend or family member who revealed who John Doe really was, but it was the summer rain. You were just about to leave for the night when you started getting phone calls. A bad storm was coming in and soon it wouldn't be safe to drive on the largely dirt roads in this town, no one would be coming up to fill in the night shift. You could make it home safe if you left now. But that would mean abandoning your patient and you couldn't do that. So instead you just sighed and hunkered down preparing to wait out the storm inside the hospital.

John Doe was more than happy to have your company- he liked you better than any of the overnight team anyway, and over the past day he'd begun to feel strange. Not in pain just energized in a usual way. there was a tingling sensation just below his skin, he felt hungry but not for food. He couldn't really put a name to the strange pressure in his body, he only knew that it was growing and it made him want to keep you close.

You were in the break room when it happened. You were trying to figure something out for dinner which was hard with only vending machine options available when lightning strikes and the lights die. you hesitate, waiting for backup generators but only the red EXIT lights stay on, casting an eerie red glow to the room. You were just starting to pull open cabinets looking for a flashlight when you heard a loud crash and what sounded like an animal growl. Your heart stops and before you can think you're running toward the sound relying on muscle memory to navigate the darkened halls.

You freeze seeing the hulking form of a wolf over the tipped-over bed of John Doe. How the hell did a wolf get in here? And alone. Even panicked you know something isn't right. Wolves don't come this close to humans, they don't attack humans and they never ever do it alone. Then the wolf looks at you and stands on its hind legs and you realize it's not a wolf but a monster.

Your hands tremble, you should run- call the sheriff- search the lost and found for a gun and shoot the damn thing. But you can't bring yourself to run. The creature in front of you is awe-inspiring despite your fear, you're curious. Then the monster moves and the interest vanishes. Again your body moves before your brain can think you turn and run. You don't look behind as you run but you can hear the beast howl and the solid thud thud thud as it chases after you.

It's a small emergency room, you know there's nowhere to hide unless the werewolf can read and respect "staff only" signs. You feel a large clawed hand wrap around your waist your legs are still kicking trying to run as you're lifted in the air by the monster.

"You took such good care of me...now let me take care of you, sweet mate," the werewolf growls in your ear, turning you to face him, forcing you to look at his hulking monstrous form. You struggle futilely in his grasp he's strong and you can see his muscles bulge under his dark black fur. Lightning strikes again illuminating his sharp white teeth and his bright hungry eyes.

It takes you a moment to catch up to the fact that 1. The werewolf had spoken and 2. That he had promised to "take care of you". Before you can catch your breath let alone ask what that meant he's shoving you down onto the cold linoleum floor, shredding your pants with one clawed hand and the other he presses down hard on your back in between your shoulder blades keeping you pinned to the floor. You can feel his warm breath on your exposed skin as he huffs your scent. you can't see him but you know he's drooling. The attention makes you tremble, and then he pushes his thick rough tongue against your body and you moan. His tongue is thick and wet against your trembling cunt. He can't keep his hands to himself, his clawed hand wraps around your breast squeezing as he pulls you back against his hungry lapping mouth.

You can't keep your moans to yourself. The little cries of pleasure slip from your mouth only making the beast more aggressive as he eats you out. Eventually, you give up trying to even hold back the sounds or pretend that you aren't enjoying the ravishment.

It doesn't take much longer for you to cum, he doesn't pull away when you reach your peak. He pushes his tongue deep inside of you savoring the flavor of your cum and the fact that he had successfully pulled an orgasm from you just like he'd promised. His tail wags as he cleans you up, then you start getting wet again and he's not cleaning you up as much as he is eating you out again. His cock hangs heavy between his legs too big and thick for his erection to lift so it just throbs with need and drips thick beads of precum onto the clean floor.

He can't quite decide what he needs more, to jerk himself off or to keep both his hands on you. Eventually, his own ache can't be ignored and he starts to jerk himself off. it doesn't take long for him to cum the sweet flood of your cum just drives him insane. his knot swells pitifully as his semen splatters against your legs and ass dripping down to your pussy. two of his clawed fingers scoop up some of his spilled seed and push it inside of you.

"Next time I cum tonight it's going to be inside of you." It sounds like a threat, you can't wait.

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 9

Series Summary: In order to save money for law school, you accept a job working as a maid for high end clients. You aren’t supposed to know whose home you’re cleaning, but your curiosity is peaked by your first client, and when the two of you have a shocking and surprising run in more than just your curiosity peaks.  Word Count: 5k CW: see small red lettering below the cut AN: I'm going to miss them!! I'm absolutely heartbroken that I'm done, but so fucking proud of myself for what I've created. Thank you to @lotusbxtch for being my beta from pretty much the very beginning. I am so grateful to you and so honoured (yes, with a u because I'm Canadian lol) to call you my friend. Also little shoutouts to @for-a-longlongtime, @alltheirdamn, @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for listening to me go on about them for 80% of 2024. As always, graphics and dividers by @saradika-graphics

My Masterlist || Series Masterlist

TW: unprotected p in v, one spank, multiple orgasms and Overstim hinted at, pining, heartbreak

Eight Months Later

Joel

“I got yelled at by a feisty brunette last night at that gala,” Tommy says as the two of them sip whiskey at the bar of the club. 

“Probably deserved it.” Joel deadpans and closes the folder of invoices he’s looking over.

He should be doing this in his fancy, and newly renovated, office across the street. He was in the large office for all of three minutes the day after you left when he could only see the ghost of you. From the chair you sat in when you first asked him to teach you how to be a sub, to the door he pinned you against and confessed how out of his mind he was over you, everything was you, and it had to go if he had any chance of following what you needed from him. Joel hasn’t even been in his room at the club out of the fear of what it would do to him. Would I still be able to smell the lavender of her shampoo in there? Still be able to hear her beautiful cries of pleasure and pain bouncing off the walls?

“She thought I was you,” Tommy says, glancing over at his brother and interrupting Joel’s impending spiral.

Joel sighs, slipping his reading glasses from his face before taking a long pull of the amber liquor from his crystal glass. Tommy looks straight ahead as he continues.

“She’s doing great, by the way. Or at least that’s what her friend said when she was scolding me.”

 Joel winces at his words, “Of course she is, Tommy.” Even though it's been almost a year since you left, just the mention of you rips his barely-mended heart back in half. It doesn’t seem to matter how much time passes, he still feels like he did in his kitchen. 

The very fibers of his being ache just as hard for you now as they did then. He longs to see you and touch you, to feel your warm, soft skin under his hands again. Anyone before you was always, ‘Yes, Mister Miller,’ even when they weren’t in a scene; but not you. You weren’t afraid to be curious and unapologetically yourself. He hasn’t laughed as hard with anyone, including Tiffany, as he did with you. But the part that he misses the most is the way you look at him the first time you see him. Your eyes soften, velvety pink lips parting slightly before they curl into a smile that makes his heart hammer behind his ribs. Then, he watches your shoulders relax and it makes him feel like he hung the moon and stars for you, and if he could have, he would have.  

He clears his throat and then rasps, “She’s too smart to not be doing well.”

Tommy stands, bringing his hands to rub at Joel's shoulders. He squeezes his tense deltoid muscles and with a hint of mischief in his voice he says, “Lots of pretty girls here tonight if you feel like moving on.”

Joel shakes his head and pulls away from Tommy’s grasp with a grunt. “Never gonna happen. Get outta here before you get yelled at two nights in a row.”

“Just too bad for me that you aren’t a hot brunette,” Tommy says with a laugh.

“I have brown hair,” Joel replies defensively, running his fingers through the grown out curls. 

“Not to kick you when you’re down, but it’s mostly grey at this point.”

Joel holds up a single finger at Tommy over his shoulder as he laughs and walks away. 

Two and a half years later

You

You’ve been up to your eyeballs in studying as you prepare for your finals. These last few years in California have been the hardest yet most fulfilling time of your life. Two nights in a row now, you’ve fallen asleep in the library, only waking when your Spotify would switch from the white noise playlist you use to help you focus, to your “getting ready” playlist. After dragging yourself to your dorm room in the dead of the night, you’d get a few restless hours of sleep before heading right back to your favourite studying spot. You can’t believe that in just a few short weeks you’ll be graduating and stepping into the life you’ve always envisioned for yourself.

The unmistakable FaceTime jingle fills your AirPods. Jamie’s name is splayed across the screen of your phone, along with a photo of the two of you at Albany Beach when she visited this past Christmas break. You put your highlighter down and slide the answer toggle over. 

“Hey!” She says, her warm smile shining up at you. You squint, trying to place where she is. You don’t often let yourself think of Joel, but the cracks across your screen make FaceTiming difficult, and the selfish side of you always wishes you had grabbed that new phone before you left. Your head cocks to the side; broken screen or not, you don’t recognize the background.

“Where are you?” You ask.

“Oh, I’m good, thanks. How are you?” She jests with a mocking eye roll.  “I’m at a cabin.”

“What cabin?” You say, glaring at her jokingly. A deep laugh comes from the otherside of the phone and your eyes widen. “Who’s that?”

The man's voice comes from offscreen, “I can’t believe you thought she wouldn’t ask where you were. She’s going to be a lawyer, for god's sake.”

“Jamie, who is that? What is going on here? Blink twice if you need rescuing!” You joke. 

Jamie blushes, looking over the phone at whoever that voice is coming from. “I just wanted to call to see how the studying is going, and to let you know that I got the graduation tickets.”

A glass of white wine appears in front of Jamie and she smiles before puckering her lips in a kissing motion towards the man in the room with her. “Ok, seriously, who the fuck is that and where are you?”

“I was also calling to let you know that Laren can’t make it anymore and Odette is in New York,” she takes a small sip of her wine.

“Oh, well that’s ok,” you say, trying to squash the disappointment and hoping it doesn’t show in your voice or face. You wished that at least two of your three best friends would be there for you. “It can just be me and you, baby!” 

“Well…I’m wondering if I could maybe bring my boyfriend? Might be a good opportunity for you two to meet.”

“What? What boyfriend?” You say, officially abandoning all study materials until you get some answers. Jamie raises a perfectly manicured finger and calls the mystery man over. 

You swallow hard as Tommy Miller appears beside her. 

Jamie glances up at him, her bright green eyes full of admiration, his mirroring hers. The starry look in their eyes tells you everything you need to know; they’re so far gone for that even a search and rescue team wouldn’t be able to save them. She looks back at you. “Meet again, I guess.”

You try to push for answers, but either of them give in, claiming you need to focus on finals. Before you hang up, Jamie promises to tell you the entire story when you see each other next. You’re happy for your friend, especially seeing the way Tommy looked back at her. Even through your cracked screen you could see the love, but as you try to go back to studying you have a hollow feeling in your stomach.

Graduation Day

You

The late afternoon sun fills your dorm room, boxes of your belongings stacked haphazardly around you. After walking the stage tonight, you are going out to dinner with Jamie and Tommy, and then he has paid for a hotel suite so the two of you can have a girls’ night. You can’t wait to hear how Tommy went from, in Jamie’s previous words, “my dad’s new asshole friend” to her boyfriend. 

You step in front of your floor length mirror, zipping up the black graduation gown over your knee length, form fitting, deep emerald velvet dress. The California sun has been good to you, your tanned legs and sunkissed nose and cheeks are glowing. You place your blue and yellow Berkeley Law stole over your head and then grab your cap, ensuring the ‘Class of ‘28’ tassel is secure. You fluff your curls one last time as a light knock comes from your door. 

“Ready to graduate, gorgeous?” Ronan smiles at you, eyes trailing down your gown. He’s the type of handsome that’s almost painful to look at, but more importantly - you wouldn’t have made it through these last three years without him. You met the first day - the lock on your door wasn’t working, and he waltzed in on you half naked when he mistook your room as his. 

You smile at him in your doorway now; remembering the way you screamed at him that first time, trying to cover your chest, and him scrambling to close the door. His eyes were clamped shut, and he slammed his finger so hard that you had to take him for stitches. Now, several years later, he fills out his graduation gown perfectly with those wide rugby shoulders, a sight you couldn’t even have imagined back then. Whichever angel made him didn’t make a single mistake - he’s tall and insanely broad, with dark sandy blonde hair, and clover green eyes that in the right light are a golden hazel. He’s easily one of the smartest men you’ve ever met and an incredible athlete. The cherry on top, because of course there’s more: he’s an international student and has a panty-melting Irish accent. 

“Beyond ready. Let's become lawyers, babe.”

He steps aside, one arm out in a ‘ladies first’ gesture. Handsome, charming, and thoughtful - a dangerous trifecta. You slide your hand in the crook of his muscle-lined arm and walk across campus together.

Ronan jerks his head towards the coffee cart. “Remember when you spilled your entire coffee on your new puffer jacket?”

You glare up at him, you saved for weeks to buy that jacket. “No, but I remember you throwing up in that trash can after the Halloween party last year.” 

“Well, if Beach Party Barbie had helped Lifeguard Ken with all those shots we wouldn’t have had that problem, would we?” You laugh as Ronan puffs out his chest, but you both know he was more than willing to take your half of the ‘Best Couples Costume' shots. 

Finally, you reach the courtyard where the law students will be walking across a stage that acts as the symbolic bridge to the rest of their lives. I’m a lawyer, you think to yourself and try to force a smile. The magnitude of the day only really starts to sink into your bones as you see the friends and families of your classmates start to take their seats. The excited feeling you had earlier starts to morph. You’re proud of yourself for what you’ve done these last three years, and this was just the first step. You have so much to look forward to, so why do you feel a sense of dread building in the pit of your stomach? 

Ronan walks you to where you need to line up alphabetically, kissing your cheek and then, after leaning in and placing his large hand on your lower back, he whispers a joke about how you better not trip. You glance around the thick crowd for Jamie and Tommy. After realizing it’s hopeless to try and spot them in a group this large, you slip your cap over your hair and get in the procession line. 

You try to soak in every minute of the day, from the speeches to the birds chirping in the background, but something akin to loss flutters at the base of your spine. You’re just as sad to be leaving Berkely as you are excited to carve out your future. Leaving here isn’t what’s causing you to feel this way, however. You try to tell yourself that maybe it’s just nerves; even with all the job offers coming in from your internships, it’s normal to be nervous about what comes next. 

As the student union president gives his toast to the family and friends, you look down at your lap, pushing back the cuticle on your left thumb. Maybe it’s leaving Ronan. He’s been an anchor for you, grounding you almost every day of the last three years and you don’t know how you let yourself become this dependent on anyone, especially a man, again.  

You shake your head at yourself and try to move your focus to the cuticle on your other thumb. Seeing the skin clean from the nail bed eases the tension slightly for you. ‘I’m allowed to be nervous when leaning on people, but not everyone will leave me,’ you recite almost automatically in your mind, the mantra you’ve had these past few years whenever you feel yourself getting this anxious. Just as you finish the thought, a car revs in the distance and the realization of what - or who - you’re actually missing slams through you so hard that you almost feel winded. Your lungs ache, tears pushing behind your eyes as his name rings loudly through your mind.  

Joel.

You kept yourself busy since the minute you left Austin. The busier you were, the less time you had to focus on the void in your heart. During the school year, you didn’t have to find things to stay busy with; law school nearly chewed you up and spit you out. Over the summers, you worked as an intern and visited your friends. There was never a quiet moment, never too much time alone with your thoughts, and it was better this way. You can confidently say that you’d only thought of Joel six times since you walked out of his house that day: when you fell asleep on the beach and were so sunburnt you could barely move for three days; when you failed your first test; when your rusted SUV, that acted as your ticket to freedom at eighteen, died on the freeway in rush hour (from that point on you had to rely on public transportation to get you to the homes you cleaned). When you experienced your first earthquake; when you stayed up for forty-two hours straight after your partner in a group project didn’t have their side of the work done; and, lastly, this past New Year’s Eve when you were in Austin and thought you saw him at a party. 

“Is he here?”, that little box of feelings that you shut away in a vault long ago wonders. “Has anything changed for him in the last three years?” 

The small smile that pulls at your cheeks, and the excited flutter of your heart when you think about the possibility of seeing him again, proves that maybe nothing has changed for you. As the minutes tick by, your mind races with all the possible scenarios for after the ceremony. What if he is here? What will you say? What will he say? How will Ronan react, you know he has strong feelings about what happened between you and Joel. Even worse though, what if he’s not here? But maybe he’s at the hotel where Tommy and Jamie are staying?  

Before you know it, your row is standing and walking single file towards the stage. With each strike of your high-heeled strappy sandals against the concrete, a memory of Joel floods your system. The toast he made you in his kitchen, the kiss in that dimly lit hallway on your birthday, the way he walked you through his club and how calmly he talked about you being in charge before going into the voyeur room. The multitude of orgasms he gave you within the four walls of his private room. Him singing on the small stage of the dive bar you found, followed by him spanking you right there in the bathroom with his hand clamped to your face to keep you quiet. His strong hand grasping your thigh as he drove you to his house. The way he tasted on your tongue. The smell of his skin: all ash and leather, occasionally mixed with whiskey or mint. The feel of his body: hard, broad and hot. His shuddered breaths as he confessed so many things in so few words. 

‘It’s only you, sweet girl.’

‘Just call me Joel.’

‘I know, and I’m so proud of you, sweet girl.’

You carefully walk up the stairs, forcing the thoughts of Joel from your mind, just in time to hear your name announced as a graduate of Berkeley Law. You float across the stage, grabbing the piece of paper that acts as your degree until the real one comes, shaking the hand of the Dean who flips your tassel before you walk to the stairs on the other side; the stairs that symbolize the ending of your time here and the beginning of the rest of your life. 

As you reach the top of the steps, you look out into the audience and see Jamie. She pumps her fist in the air and before you can process the empty seat beside her, you feel it; a strong tug from behind your navel. It takes you less than a heartbeat to find him and the sight before you floods your body with a familiar warmth. Standing under a large tree at the edge of the audience, dressed in all black, and holding his Stetson hat to his heart, is Joel. For the first time in years you feel whole again.

 You keep your gaze on him, worried that if you so much as blink that he’ll be gone. You are supposed to follow your classmates, but you veer left, walking towards Joel. The closer you get, the more at ease you feel. He’s real, you think, he’s here. You stop a foot or so in front of him. 

“Hi, Freckles,” he whispers, his voice cracking slightly. His eyes dance around your face, almost as if he’s trying to memorize this moment. You can’t help but wonder if he’s feeling exactly how you are.   

“Hi, Sweet Cheeks,” you say, the same tremble in your voice, as you try desperately to hold it together. “You’re here.”

He nods and you give him a tight-lipped smile as your mind races. There’s so much you want to say, but now that he’s standing right there in front of you after three years, you don’t know where to start. 

Joel breaks the silence, jutting his chin in the direction of the other graduates as he says, “I saw you come in with your boyfriend. When I saw you kiss, I was going to leave, but I made you a promise.”

You knit your eyebrows together and take a step closer. “Boyfriend?”

“The man you walked over here with,” Joel says, his black Stetson sliding down the chest you so desperately want to touch as he drops his hands to his sides. He’s left no barriers between the two of you except the heartbreak that’s evident on his face. 

You laugh quietly, “No, he’s - that’s Ronan.”

Joel nods. “Okay.”

“He’s my friend,” you clarify, and when Joel’s face stays the same, you add, “And he’s still as gay as the day we first met!”

Joel lets out a whoosh of a breath and closes the distance between the two of you, his free hand comes to one of your curls, twirling the end of it around his thick fingers. Soft and silky meets rough and calloused. “I’m so proud of you, Freckles.”

You don’t miss how he watches your tongue dart between your lips, “Thank you.”

“So? How does it feel?” He gives you a soft crooked smile, his dimple carving into the short facial hair of his salt and pepper beard. Between that smile, and the way his brown eyes wash over you, you’re overcome with affection. He let you go. He did exactly as you asked him. He didn’t chase you or try to convince you to stay. You told him if he really loved you, then he’d do exactly this; and in turn, he did what he said he would. 

He showed up. 

“I love you,” you state and the air between you turns electric, almost like this moment could either set you both aflame or act as a generator for your future together. Joel gives you that look, the one that makes you feel like you’re the center of his universe. He lets the curled end of your hair slip from his fingers, reaching up towards your graduation cap but hesitating.

“May I?” He rasps and swallows hard.

You nod, and knowing exactly what he’s going for, you take the Stetson from his other hand and place it on your head after he removes your cap. The brim of it blocks out everything but the two of you.

“Say that again, sweet girl,” he murmurs.

“I love you,” it’s barely a whisper this time. “Even after three years apart, you are everything to me. I asked you to let me go so I could accomplish this, and you did. You’ve always done what I asked, what I needed. I’m not sorry for what happened between us, but I am sorry that I missed out on getting to spend the last three years with you looking at me how you are now. I love you, Joel Miller.”

He brings his lips within a breath of yours, and your body practically vibrates with the knowledge that if you leaned just a bit forward, you’d finally have his mouth on you again. You can almost taste the mint on his tongue as the familiar fragrance of ash and leather surround you. “I have dreamed of hearing those three words leave your beautiful lips more times than I can count, baby. You’re it for me. I’ll do anything for you, even if it means breaking my own heart, but I’m always going to be here for you, rooting for you and encouraging you. I’m glad you’re not sorry, because I’m not, I’m so fucking proud of you. I love you, too, my sweet girl.”

Finally, he presses his warm, firm lips against yours while pulling you tight to his body. You wrap an arm around his neck, holding the black cowboy hat against your head with your other hand. It doesn’t matter that the ceremony isn’t done, or that there are hundreds of people to your right. For the first time in three years, everything goes quiet. He hums contentedly and you feel yourself melt against him, tilting your head so he can deepen the kiss. He parts his lips, letting you take the first swipe of your tongue against his. Need floods your system, and based on the way he grinds into you, he’s feeling the same. 

He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours. “Take me home,” you practically purr.

“Where do you want home to be? I’ll go anywhere,” Joel rasps, running his nose down the bridge of yours. 

“Austin,” you respond, your breath catching as his lips ghost along the side of your mouth.

“I sold my portion of the club to Tommy and Tess. I don’t have anything holding me in Austin anymore, sweet girl. If you have a job offer you really want, that’s where we’ll go.” You pull back to look at him. You can tell by the set of his jaw that he’s serious. 

“I want to go to Austin. I have a job offer there.”

“Good thing I told Tommy not to touch my room at the club then.”

“That’s a very good thing,” you moan and then pull him in to kiss again. The audience behind you erupts into cheers, celebrating the accomplishments of every student in that crowd. 

You’re a lawyer, and suddenly, the future doesn’t seem so scary.

Joel

Taking you home to Austin that night unfortunately wasn’t an option. After finding Jamie in the crowd, and being formally introduced to Ronan, he called the car to pick up the three of you. You all met Tommy at the restaurant, celebrating with all the expensive homemade pasta and overpriced wine that you wanted; even though seeing you in that curve-hugging velvet dress was slowly killing him. Joel had kept at least one hand on you since seeing you again, and he doesn’t plan on changing that anytime soon. 

He didn’t want to rush you on your big night, so he waited patiently, listening to you tell stories of your last three years, and revelling in the evident joy that you and Jamie share over being together again. When dessert comes around he catches Tommy’s attention and gives him a small smile. It’s fitting that the two brothers, who have been so close their entire lives, would fall in love with best friends. 

Once in his room, he spent two hours stripping you down at an almost painfully slow pace. He kissed every inch of your skin twice over and has pulled five orgasms, and counting, out of you so far. 

Now, Joel is seated in the wide velvet arm chair in the corner of his hotel suite. His cock is buried deep inside of your tight cunt as you straddle him. Your skin feels like butter under his hands as he trails them along your back and the globes of your perfect ass. He’s missed tying you up, but this is what he longed for: the earth shattering intimacy he feels with you in these moments.   

“Please,” you mumble into his neck, desperate to move your hips.

“Not until you answer me,” he demands softly. “How many times was it that you needed me, but were too stubborn to reach out?”

Earlier tonight you told him about the six times you really needed him. He’d kissed you softly after each confession, returning the trust with a time he needed you. After the last one, he’d pulled back to look at you with dark eyes. He’d hated that you needed him and he couldn’t be there. He’d clenched his back molars twice before he said you’d be denied six orgasms the next time you were at the club, but tonight you have permission to come as often as you need to. 

He swats your already reddened ass cheek and your pussy flutters as you cry out. “Mister Miller, stop. Please, just let me move.”

“Do you need to use your safeword?”

“No,” you respond with a pout. 

“How many times?” He says again through gritted teeth, even though already knows the answer. 

“Six,” you sob. 

He tuts and then growls, “That doesn’t sound like my good girl, does it?”

You shake your head against his throat and moan a sound of disagreement.

“Do you want to come for me again?”

“Yes, Mister Miller. Please!”

He trails his fingers up and down your back again, the thin sheen of sweat on your skin makes it easy for him to caress you. He smiles to himself at the shiver that racks through your body at his touch. You react so beautifully to him. “Yeah? You wanna grind your swollen little clit on my piercing, baby girl?”

“Please,” you whine again, stretching out all the vowels in the word.

“Show me. Ride my cock, take what you need.” 

You lift your head from the crook in his neck and pull back slightly, rocking your hips back and forth; a sultry laugh leaves his lips at your eagerness. You look at him with hooded eyes, hair stuck to your forehead. His eyes trail down your neck to the bruises he sucked into your collar bone earlier and then to your breasts; both of which are covered in his marks. He watches the little gold nipple clamps, and the chain that connects them, bounce with each flick of your hips. 

“That’s it, sweet girl. You look like a goddess, my goddess. Who do you belong to?”

“I’m yours, baby,” you say through shallow breaths. He pulls at the chain and you cry out in pain. “S-sorry, Mister Miller.”

“Again, sweet girl. Tell me who you belong to.”

“Oh fuck, y-you, Mist -” his hands come to your face and when he whispers your name the rest of your sentence dies on your tongue.

“Just call me Joel.” The commanding voice of his alter ego is gone as he says it. 

Your hips slow, changing from a frantic back and forth to a sensual swirling motion. “I’m yours, Joel. Forever.”

He kisses you softly, a silent telling of how vulnerable he is at this moment. “Don’t ask me to let you go ever again.”

The smile you give him causes his heart to skip, “I won’t.”

“You might, sweet girl. I won't survive it if you do, so I’m going to remind you of this moment as often as possible for the rest of my life. Remind you how much you’re loved and supported. You’re mine, Freckles.” Your hips swirl and he feels you tighten up around him. “Come for me, my sweet girl.” 

“Fuck, fuck, Joel!” It’s a cry and moan all at once. 

“I’m here, it’s ok, baby.” With that, your body shudders and you fall into him as you shatter. Your pussy clenches and releases rapidly around his length. His cock twitches, and once he can’t hold it anymore he relaxes, letting his orgasm rock through him in time with yours.

“I’m yours, too,” he gasps as he melts into you.

The End

Coming Soon:

Curious how Jamie ended up with her "dads new asshole friend?"

Part 2 of the BDSMaid Trilogy coming mid 2025!

Also, stay tuned for the epilogue for Joel and Sweet Girl.

[4vlad]

My master

—summary: Alucard, the Vampire who proclaimed himself your servant, drinks your blood for the first time

—warnings: sexual content, master/servant relationship, non-consensual touching, dirty talk, blood drinking, human/vampire relationship

words: 1.468.

The day could not have been more exhausting, you had to work late because your boss didn't have more staff, it left you exhausted, very tired but you were finally able to get out of that hell, the bad thing is that it is very dark and cold at night, the London streets are eerily silent tonight.

"Scared dear?" He says a loud voice to which you scream and turn around throwing your bag towards the person behind you, the man catches the bag quickly "is this for me?" He laughs. "Ah! Alucard! You scared me, don't do that again!" You approach him and take his bag from him, "my sincere apologies, my master" you shudder at the dominant alias, Alucard is a vampire who had proclaimed himself as your servant months ago, you think he is crazy and you have certainly realized that he is, you were not a dominant person, much less someone of authority, you honestly don't know why he says you are his Mistress and you haven't asked him anyway. From the little you know about him is that he is a very strong, self-centered and prankster Vampire, you have even seen him in action a couple of times.

Alucard laughs at your ramblings while you both head to your apartment, even though the walk was long neither of them spoke much, as always Alucard only followed you because according to him it is to "protect you from danger" that you appreciated but you also don't want to abuse his goodness.

You enter your apartment and Alucard follows you by closing the door behind him "I must say that your area is very cozy Mistress" he takes off his hat and glasses before sitting on the sofa that he himself has claimed as "his", you Without giving it much importance go to your room and changes your clothes into more comfortable ones, minutes later You returns with the vampire "...I'm going to cook chicken and French fries, do you want?" You ask the vampire "No, dear human, I'm not a big fan of fried food." You thought for a moment whether to offer him a salad since he was a vampire, but he didn't seem to hate human food either, after all, he's eaten with you a few times, well, when you cook for him. .

You got down to work while the vampire just watched you as always, at first you were afraid of this monster, his energy was and is a little sinister, but over time you began to appreciate his company, he saved you a few times from some malefactors even, their presence still bothers you a little but you put up with it, Alucard has made it clear to you many times that he has no intention of harming you, that he is your servant and is here to obey your orders, whatever you ask of him. He's weird, you think.

In your rambling you get distracted and accidentally cut the skin on your hand, a sharp pain runs through you, thick blood falls from your hand to your elbow, you quickly turn off the stove "Ugh!" You groan in pain as you head towards the dishwasher to wash your wound.

The vampire, with his developed sense of smell, perceived a sweet and tempting aroma in the air, a fragrance that was familiar and irresistible at the same time. It was your smell of blood, a signal to his thirsty nature. However, there was something different about this smell, a subtle but unmistakable touch of sweetness, as if he belonged to a human being with a unique and exquisite blood. Alucard quickly stopped you, he appeared in front of you with a smile from ear to ear "Let me help you with that My Dear Mistress, it will be a pleasure to clean and heal your wound" you got a little scared, you were dripping blood with an extremely violent vampire, danger!

Alucard sensed your fear and quickly calmed you down or at least he tried to. "I won't bite you, I promise, you don't have to be scared, sweet human, I won't hurt you unless you give me those orders," he says with a deep but soft voice at the same time. While the vampire convinces you, he takes you to the couch and sits you on top of his legs. You are embarrassed but you still give in. You raise your hand to let the blood drip into your Vampire's mouth. Alucard opens his mouth, big as a beast, his fangs sharp, each one pointed, he sticks out his long, fat tongue, he is eager, salivating even before you will agree to feed him.

A heavy drop of blood falls on the vampire's tongue, his pupils dilate and his gaze becomes intense, the beautiful beast grabs your hand and brings it to his mouth, his tongue was cold, the sensation of the wet and heavy tongue of Alucard slightly relieves your pain, he tastes your entire hand and your fingers, from top to bottom from one side to the other, his tongue moves gently enjoying the taste of your blood, he simply knows that he has never tasted a taste as sweet as it. Yours, it's the first time he's tasted your blood, he knew you were as tasty as he imagined.

Shadow hands appear around you to caress you, his hands are everywhere! On your abdomen, legs and thighs! How disrespectful!

You get embarrassed and try to take his hand away but he is stronger, his grip is firm on his food.

Alucard's hands caress you gently, kneading your skin over your clothes, he wants to taste everything about you.

once he finishes his meal, his eyes are fixed on you, his irises a bright red color, he smiles at you softly but with a dominant expression, he lets out a deep laugh as he brings you even closer to him "my mistress... You are a virgin..." He says with a deep voice, you move your hands away and put it to your chest, your cheeks turn red because of Alucard's words, did he know it just by tasting your blood? What does it have to do with you being a virgin? What a dirty pervert!

"So what...?"

He just laughs, he knew you were shy but you were also sweet and kind, always gentle and ready for anything, he couldn't believe that a little thing as pretty as you was still a virgin, he couldn't believe that even though you was so beautiful, so tasty, no one has corrupted you, well...it's not like any human can properly teach you what carnal pleasures are.

He purred, the taste and your aroma were overwhelming, his Master is as tasty as she looks.

"Mmm...wouldn't you like to feel what sexual pleasure is like, little human?" He doesn't care if you were a virgin or not but now? Oh...he wanted to corrupt you in every way possible, the smell of your embarrassment and excitement from the dirty talk invaded the vampire's senses.

You felt your panties stick to your lips because of the humidity "..." You remained silent, is this how this creature addresses his master? Did you know that he was insolent, what good is he proclaiming himself your servant if he doesn't respect you as such? Your eyebrows knit together in an expression of anger and embarrassment. He laughs at your reaction.

"My master..." he says with a suggestive voice, almost like a whisper, "it's been a long time since I gave myself to a Human," you don't respond. "You know that I am all yours, your servant, I am here to please your needs, to please you my beloved master..." Again he begins to purr. Your heart beats hard as you feel the hardness in the Vampire's crotch.

He was a burlesque and a pervert but he knew how to seduce a woman, using dirty words but at the same time being a gentleman.

He has never given himself this way to a master, not even his previous masters, but you? How could you be so delicious? So cute? He was willing to please you if you wanted, he just waited for you to say the words.

"You...you are not my servant Alucard" you get up from the couch "And I don't want...I don't want to do that..."

Alucard sighs disappointed but accepts "even if you don't want to be my mistress, I want you to know that I am here if you need to satisfy your needs, dear," he smiles.

"Please forgive my insolence, no matter how much I want you, I have to earn your affection and I will do it appropriately" he rises to his height and bends down again to kiss your hand in an act of chivalry.

Sorry if there are spelling mistakes, English is not my first language, I hope you enjoyed! You are free to leave me ideas by the way. AO3: rosemary06 (click)

[bunny-jpeg]

i've had a horrid idea in my head, don't look at me! (maid!reader feat. soap & ghost)

so basically

you get hired through the cleaning service that you work for, to help keep a house outside the city nice and clean. you are a bit confused why whoever hired you needed a maid who lived over two hours away. but, you were assured that it would be worth it and shuffled off.

you thankfully only had two go twice a week, mondays and wednesdays with your day off in the middle. the pay was above standard, pictures of the home were shown, along with profiles of the owners.

simon riley and john mactavish. they were army men who wouldn't be at the house as much as most customers. which was a relief. this was not however the case, as the more you spent coming over the house to clean, the more they seemed to be around.

the blond one with the face scars was simon and the burnette with the mohawk and the scottish accent was johnny (he made you call im johnny). it would taken several months before they made the first move.

it started with johnny brushing up against your backside while he was in nothing but pajama pants. his erection against you.

then the snowstorm happened. you were about the go home, determined to drive when the snow came down in heaps. the snowflakes were almost as big as a two pence coin.

you ended up staying, and johnny brought out the whisky! he told you it was the good stuff from the highlands as he served you a healthy glass. it still burned like a bastard when it went down, the disgusted face you made caused the other two men to laugh. when you tried to use the bathroom you heard simon's voice ring out, "oh, there she goes!". as the snow hit the ground outside, you got drunk with your customers.

which then resulted in coy kisses, followed by loud fucking in simon's room. it had the bigger bed but it didn't matter because your hands and knees ached by the of the night. as did the back of your throat (you couldn't talk the morning after) and your pussy (you sat in weird positions to ease the pain for a week after).

simon and johnny were bullies to you sexually. you were twisted like a pretzel as both men just fucked you without abandon. you were left gasping and it didn't help that it turned you on too! you were such a bad maid, but it was hard to believe yourself when both men grumbled your praises as they moved you once more to get at just the right angle.

you tried to give the appearance of keeping it professional, but when you ended up back at work your boss told you that simon and john needed more help before their deployment, so she had moved your customers to other maids.

your priority was to help those men anyway you could! "they're serving our country! they need as much as they can before they leave once more!"

it wouldn't take long before you pretty much moved your life into their home. when you called the resign from your job at the maid agency, johnny was between your legs while you were sitting on the kitchen counter. your free hand was in his mohawk, yanking on the strands. he had spent all morning encouraging you to quit your job, which mean being laid out behind you with his hand down the front of your panties. his calloused fingers rubbing your clit until you were practically yelping from the overstimulation!

one night when you were "helping them" simon was gone for several hours and came back with boxes of your stuff. everything was put in neatly, when you tried to ask why he simply said, "you can't be wearing our civvies forever." (as if the two men weren't going to buy you clothes or anything else you needed). but it was nice to have some stuff with you. you never asked how he got into the apartment though.

sometimes the boys will still play maid with you. johnny liked it when he got to push up the skirt of the maid's dress you were wearing and simon liked when he got to tear the garter under the skirt right off. johnny's cock was soon balls deep in your while simon licked your clit.

paycheck wasn't necessary anymore, not while you were living with them full time. living in the city was nice, you would always cherish your time in it! but it was a lot nicer being sandwiched between two burly men who would capture the sun and the moon and serve it to you on a silver platter. <3

[satowooo]

ii. down bad

Satoru was so sure that he finally got over you, but why does he feel his heart beating again whenever he sees you walking down the room as if you own the place, the way you own his heart? Reminiscing the past feels like voluntarily falling down the edge of a high mountain, except Gojo Satoru was more than willing to welcome the pain that he thought was long gone and buried in the depths of the sea.

contents. angst, fluff, maid!reader x gojo satoru, difference in social class, past events, flashbacks, modern au, not proofread.

‘Cause fuck it I was in love, so fuck you if I can't have us.

previous chapter → next chapter

JANUARY 2009

It was probably love at first sight for Gojo Satoru. Or maybe just a small interest. Maybe he just wanted to be friends with you. Or maybe you really just caught his attention.

It was probably because it's the first time for Satoru to see a maid the same age as him, which makes it more intriguing because he usually has old ones who are at least 10 years older, most of them who raised him since he was just a child. And then there's you walking in with your chin up, eyes set in front, your moves calculated, and you're not sparing him a glance every time he walks by, your head always lowered in a polite bow.

It felt like you were a robot. A cold demeanour of a woman who seems to be dolled up and built to be a servant who will obediently obey any orders from its master. To Gojo Satoru, you were an emotionless, uninteresting, boring woman.

So why is he so drawn to you?

There's something about you that makes you feel different. Sure, he has met other girls too. They were all lively and admired him like he's the prettiest person in the whole world. Quirky and cheerful girls unlike you who were… nothing.

He wants to know what's this force pulling him to come to you. And he needs to be at a near distance, he needs to get to know you, to talk to you, just so he could answer these questions in his head.

It's been exactly two weeks since the first time he saw you back in the garden, and he still hasn't talked to you even once. He's been watching from afar, call him a stalker or a creep, but those are none of his intentions. You caught his eye, that's for sure.

It was one of those leisurely days wherein Satoru was just taking a walk around the estate, breathing in the fresh air of his palace-like home. Everyone who walked by bowed down to greet their master, whispering amongst themselves and putting up their best behaviours.

“The tea is ready, Young Master.” A maid approached him, eyes down on the floor. “Do you want us to set it up on the tables at the pavilion?”

Satoru raised his hand as if to wave them off, motioning the maid to raise her head. “No need for that. Take it to my chambers. I'll follow shortly.”

The maid nodded before she took her leave, until Satoru was left alone in the gardens once again. His eyes roamed around for a presence, hoping to see the familiar silhouette of a lady that he longed to see. Days of observing you, he had noticed well enough that you spent a lot of your time here, where all the flowers bloomed in the softest colours that pleased the eyes. And he wanted to see you here, perhaps make a small talk if he was lucky enough for you to grace him with your presence.

But to no avail. Satoru let out a sigh after a few minutes of waiting around, his head darting from left to right one last time to see if you're coming or not, and you still didn't. His chest heaves as he tucks his hands in his pockets, walking back to his chambers to have his tea.

The silence around the estate had always been deafening, hearing only footsteps from the servants or the clinks of cups. Every step he took made quite a sound that reached the walls, his aura alone could startle even the small ants that roamed around the corner of his house as he dragged the door open, revealing his neatly cleaned bedroom.

He sat cross legged on the soft mattress on the floor before his tea table, grabbing a book as he waited for the maids to bring his afternoon snacks.

And oh is it his lucky day?

“Young Master…”

A voice so soft and unfamiliar came by the door, knocking three times. Despite how Satoru didn't know the owner of the voice behind his door, his heartbeat suddenly started to rise from his chest.

He cleared his throat, straightening his posture. “Come in.”

He felt like he caught his breath when the doors opened, revealing the woman he had been looking for quite some time now. Your hair up in a ponytail, your kimono hanging on your body as your small hands carry the tray of tea cups and a kettle. Right before him stands the most beautiful woman he had seen his whole life.

He gulped, sweat forming in his forehead. For a second, he didn't know what to do or say.

Satoru felt stupid. Crazy. Bewildered. And astonished. And enthralled. By you. For you.

He didn't realise his mouth was gape open for a few seconds, a faint shade of pink flushed on his cheek. He gulped once more before he finally had the courage to talk.

“Come in. Place them on the table” He patted the empty table, waiting for you to take the tea to him. You kept your head lowered, not looking him in the eye again.

You swiftly placed the tray on his table, kneeling down on the opposite side in front of him. You took the kettle, pouring down the tea skillfully on his cup. You almost felt yourself spill the tea when you heard his voice that seemed to echo around the room.

“I heard, you're new here?”

Obviously, you are. He knew it for quite some time now. But what else does he have to say? He wants a conversation and that's what he's doing to get your attention. Even though it made him sound like he's stupid.

“Yes, Young Master.” Your answer was short and precise, leaving no room to keep the conversation afloat. But it's Gojo Satoru talking, you can't expect him to shut up with just one question.

“As from what I know, you're here to take your mother's place while she's receiving medical treatments as of the moment. How is she?” He takes a sip from his cup, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches your every movement.

“She's recovering well.”

He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head. Your short answers made him dumbfounded for quite a reason, unable to think of another question that might keep you talking.

He clenched his jaw, tilting his head to the side as he said, “Lift your head.”

You gulped, hands falling down on your thighs as you slowly looked up. Oceanic blue eyes beneath his snowy lashes met with yours as if a light was shining directly at your face for how blinding his gaze felt like. Your breath hitched for a moment. His beauty was nothing like a normal man you see on televisions. Neither artists nor models.

He was breathtaking. Gojo Satoru was the epitome of beauty. A piece of art that never fades even as centuries pass.

“What's your name, Miss?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow at her. “As your master, I should know at least the names of who I associate myself with inside our home, no?”

You blinked a few times before you uttered your name out of your mouth, feeling out of breath all of a sudden. Despite how calm his gaze looked into you, you felt like he was trying to freeze you with his eyes alone. “Y/N…”

His lips curled into a delightful smile. There was a satisfaction laced in his eyes as he nodded his head, his fingers circling on the edge of his teacup. “A beautiful name, Miss Y/N. You probably know me already, but I'm Satoru Gojo. Pleasure to meet you.”

You smiled politely, your eyes looking anywhere but his. While Satoru Gojo basked himself in your beauty, looking directly into your appearance as if you'd be gone any moment now if he tears his eyes away from you. It took Satoru quite awhile before he finally came back to his senses to finally let you take your leave.

“Now, I'm sure you have other things to do. You may go now.” Satoru raised his cup like he was doing a toast before he took another sip. “I'll let you know if I need anything.”

He somehow made a good first impression, he thought. You didn't talk much yet your presence alone filled the silence as he stared at you for quite some time and Satoru is just glad he didn't embarrass himself.

It was more than enough. At least for now. He'll make sure to take all the chances he gets to talk to you and climb the walls you've built around yourself. He doesn't mind.

FEBRUARY 2009

“It's nice to see you again.”

You jolted in shock when a presence suddenly came beside you while you were picking some flowers. A low manly voice of a man that you're now familiar with ever since you worked here.

You stayed calm, facing him so you could properly greet him as you bowed your head. “Young Master, is there anything you need?”

“Your presence, if I may.”

Now, Satoru Gojo was definitely playing with fire. His words shooting out of his mouth before he could think about how it could affect this so-called relationship you two had that hasn't even started yet. But then, he still felt cool about it. Biting his lip as he shrugs smugly as you look at him confused.

“My presence?”

“Indeed. I hope you don't mind if I… stay around with you while you do your tasks.” He looks down at the basket you're holding filled with different types of flowers, smiling to himself at the thought of you might make a bouquet of it. “But of course, if you don't want me to, I will leave.”

“No, Sir. How can I refuse?” You laughed nervously, waving your hands to say no. “Stay if you must. I don't mind at all.”

Satoru chuckled and nodded his head. “Well then…”

He looked down the basket, his gaze locked on the extra scissors. Without further ado, he took them by his hands, proceeding to help you pick the same flowers that you were collecting.

“Do you have any flowers that you like here?” He asks, his eyes focused on the plant that he was cutting.

Your eyes quickly caught what he was trying to do, your mouth flying open as he cut the stem of a flower. “Young Master, please let me do the work. You're not supposed to–”

“Relax, Miss.” He turned to you with a chuckle, pushing his hand in the air in front of you where he was holding the flower that he picked. “I want to help. And don't worry, you won't get into trouble for this.”

You hesitated at first, but seeing him pushing his hands forward where he offered you the flower made you relent. You sigh in defeat, nodding your head as you take the flower from him, putting it down the basket. “Then I shall oblige.”

“So are you going to answer my question?” He asked as he continued his work.

“Question?”

“Flowers. Any flowers in here that you had taken a liking to?”

You purse your lips together, looking over at the other side of the garden, where different colours of tulips are starting to bloom. “That one.”

“The tulips?”

“Mhmm…”

Satoru smiled to himself, taking a mental note to give you one some of these days. “Nice choice. They're beautiful, aren't they?”

“They are. My brother loves them.” You blurted, starting to open up into the conversation with him.

“You have a brother?” Satoru asked in curiosity as he plucked another flower, then tossed it down the basket. “How old is he?”

“Yes, I have an eight-year-old brother.” Your heart warms at the thought of your sibling, a person who's probably waiting for you to come home during the weekend.

He glances at you, noticing the warm smile that crossed your lips, feeling something tugging at his chest at this sight of you. Relaxed and comfortable in his presence, it made him confident that you were somehow warming up a bit with him.

“You should take him here some time.”

Your eyes widened at his invitation, quickly looking over at him only to find that he was already staring at you, his eyes showing that he was serious. You take a sharp breath, feeling his gaze burning into you as he waits for your answer.

“I cannot… I'm here to work–”

“I insist.” Satoru cutted her off, before he went back to plucking some more flowers. “I enjoy company once in a while. He can have as many tulips as he wants. I promise you won't get into trouble for it, I'm the master in here after all, aren't I?”

Did he easily sway you like that? You hoped he didn't.

“Right…” You looked down, your fingers fidgeting. “I'll let him know.”

There was a moment of silence. Only the sounds of the scissors trimming and leaves falling down the ground could be heard. You focused on your work as Satoru helps you, and minutes passed until the basket was already overflowing because your mind was too preoccupied with your conversation with him.

You sighed, bidding him farewell as the work was done. You left as soon as he dismissed you, your heart racing the same way as your steps quickly travelled back to your room.

Your chest was heaving, and you don't know if you're breathing this heavy because of the way you hurriedly ran to your abode or was it because of the way he made you feel. Nonetheless, you don't want to know the answer just yet.

MARCH 2009

That wasn't the last time that you saw Gojo Satoru. After that interaction, you seem to cross paths with him more frequently than before. And everytime it happens, he always engages in conversations with you. His advances didn't bother you so much, in fact, it made you comfortable enough ever since you started working as a maid and he made you feel less lonely. Gradually, you became casual with him, yet still remaining professional.

Satoru liked it. The company. Your presence. The casualty. And the friendship that's starting to bloom between the two of you. It wasn't easy at first, but he got the hang of your personality.

He notices how you seem to not be close with anyone among the maids, since they're either older than you by a few years or… simply old enough to be your mother. He watched you talk to them at some point, asking about things that you're not yet familiar with in the estate, and following their orders if you're needed. You were perfect and obedient and he never saw you complaining about any task laid in front of you.

As a sound came from the front door, Satoru jerked his head up from where he sat on the grass. He saw you walking out in more casual clothes, piquing his interest immediately as he stood to go to you.

“Are you going somewhere?” Satoru curiously asked as soon as he got to your side. He noticed the way you jumped back a bit, clearly not expecting his sudden appearance.

“Uh, yeah… I'm going out a bit.” You answered shortly.

“Where?” Satoru glanced in front of the two of you where a familiar face was waiting at the car, their family driver, waiting for you.

“The grocery store.”

“Right. I'll take you.”

“What?”

You both stopped on your tracks as you looked at him confused. You tried to read his expression, but Satoru only offered you a cheeky smile. He walked ahead so he could talk to the driver before taking the keys from him. He strode to the passenger seat and opened the door for you without a word.

“Aren't you coming?”

And that's simply how you found yourself at the grocery store, with a tall man tailing behind you.

From the way he talks, and the way he carries himself into the room, every other woman that you two would walk past will sneak a glance at him. You'd hear teenage girls shrieking, even mothers with their child seated in a cart will look over at him. Satoru Gojo was just so majestic that everyone couldn't take their eyes away from him.

You felt awkward from the attention, even though you know that it's not for you, but they were still glancing over at your direction. You don't even know how you handled his little conversations all throughout the ride and even now at the store.

“Y/N! You should get some of this for yourself!” Satoru held up a bar of chocolate, practically shaking it in front of your face. “You know, so you can have some sweetness in your body. You always looked salty in the face.”

“Is that a joke?” You watched as he snickered at himself. You took the chocolate and put it back on the shelf. “Young Master, I strictly have to follow what's on the list that they gave me, so I'm sorry but I can't just rashly take something for myself.”

Satoru’s lips formed into a pout, crossing his arms at you like a child. “You're no fun.”

He follows you as you start to push the cart again, walking over another aisle. “And why the sudden formality? We're in public, Y/N.”

“That does not change the dynamics.” You replied shortly, not even entertaining the thought of informally calling him by his name.

“Why? We can't act like normal people outside?” He argues, taking the cart from you as he nudges you to the side. He pushed the cart instead, having you walk next to him instead.

His eyes narrowed intently while his eyes were looking over ahead. An unsettling feeling was tugging on his chest, his hands gripping on the cart while he pushed it forward. He let out an exasperated sigh.

“We are acting like normal people.”

“No. You're acting like we're not even friends. Like I'm just a business partner to you.” He scoffs, stopping to look at you. “Like you're a lowly servant and I'm the bad boss. I don't like it.”

You gazed back at his eyes and you don't understand why he looked so upset. You were just acting normal, like how you usually do when you're working around the estate, so what's got him so worked up?

But anyhow, you didn't want him to feel this way. So the best thing you could do was to talk calmly, trying to make him explain more.

“Why? I mean, am I not the servant and you the boss? Except the bad part.”

“We're not just that.”

Satoru gritted his teeth, and you noticed the way his jaw clenched which took you aback. You blinked a few times at him as you tried to read his expression, but all you could just see was him struggling to even find the right words to say.

You sighed, looking away from his face. “I’m sorry if I made you feel–”

“We're friends, aren't we?” Satoru cuts you off, his neck flushing red in embarrassment over the emotions stirring in his mind. His heart thumped off his chest and he hoped you couldn't hear it. “I mean… to me, we're friends. We've been talking for quite awhile now. So maybe… I thought you might feel the same… Don't you?”

You looked stunned by his words as he left you with a question that you were also asking yourself for quite some time now. He's right. You did feel the same. But worry gnaws on your skin that maybe you might've been just assuming his kindness for friendship, because you know all too well that a friendship between a low class woman like you and someone high standard like him would be impossible.

He's out of your league. Way too out of your league. And you always thought of him. Always hoped for him. Because you can't grasp him with your hands. The way he was always so close yet still so far.

But here he is. The beautiful man pouting his lips at you as he anticipates your answer. Because all Satoru wants is just for you to feel the same way as him.

You nodded reluctantly, turning your body away from him so you could continue your stroll in the store. “Okay… Sure…”

A smile finally etched on his lips. There was a small glint of happiness tainted on his blue eyes, shining brightly while he followed you from behind, pushing the cart with him. “Sure, what? I want to hear it!”

And there he was, back again to his usual personality. He nudges and bothers you like a child the whole time, trying to pull tricks on how he'll get you to say the words he wants to hear.

In the end, he simply just gave up when you showed no signs of relenting over to him. He knew you wouldn't, but the moment made him smile. He was satisfied and happy enough that at least you admitted it, even not directly. But to Gojo Satoru, small things still mattered and he wouldn't ask for anything more as long as it's you.

PRESENT

Satoru Gojo still remembers how vulnerable he had been. Well, can he blame himself? He was young, and naive.

He doesn't understand why he wanted you so much to notice him. He didn't understand how you made him feel that way… and he didn't want to feel the same anymore.

Satoru looks at you from afar painfully. His eyes shutting tightly at all the memories that still haunted his already tired heart, haunting the heart that still threatens to beat for you.

He was so mad. Still mad at you for leaving. Mad at you for making him feel so hopeless and weak. Mad at you for leaving him alone to deal with the consequences of falling in love.

But he's so… desperately… utterly… helplessly in love. His heart always ached and longed for you. The woman who swept him off his feet, the woman with gentle smiles and soft hands that touched his heart, the woman who used to utter her words of affection right before his ears. Why? Why did you even leave?

He's so, so mad at you. Because even until now, he still longs for the day that you might have looked at him the same way that you used to before.

He watched as you slowly poured him his tea, your hands still graciously performing the move.

But your hands were shaking, your eyes trembling as you tried to get a hold of yourself. Pouring tea for him like you used to do seemed to be the hardest task now that everything has changed between you. You gulped, focusing on the cup that was about to be full.

You didn't expect your hands to fail you just then. Your hand suddenly moves in nervousness causing you to nudge the cup and spill the tea right over the table. You jolted in shock as you shakily put the kettle down and quickly muttered apologies.

Satoru stared you down. And for a moment he wanted to pity the woman before him who seemed to have lost herself. But no, he can't just be weak for you again after all these years.

“How bothersome.” He scoffs at you, making you stop. The air was thick with tension and Satoru’s irritation was evident in his expression while you gulped in nervousness. It was the first time that you ever felt so defenceless before him.

“I'm… so sorry…” You muttered slowly, your gaze locked on the mess that you've made.

“I don't need your sorry, Y/N.” The words rolled off his tongue bitterly, and he didn't even think about the way he sounded so harsh. “Clean the mess, and get your face out of my sight.”

he's down bad crying at the gym lol let me know if you want to be added on the taglist !!

tagging: @blankwashed @mshitachin @mumblepingu @mimooyi @makimamybelovedwife @prettylvne @em-asian @tojisworm-5 @numblytemporary @tqd4455 @hyunsuks-beanie @flmdrva @bubera974 @yuuuumii @catobsessedlady

[bluemari23]

sparkling || choi seungcheol

summary: literally falling for your soulmate was not what you had in mind when you got up for your first day of work that morning.

pairing: choi seungcheol x disabled reader

genre: soulmate, soulmate au, fluff, some insecurity,

warnings: mention of blood, injury, possessive cheol (is this really a warning tho?), disabled reader, POTS,

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

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

It took you a million and one tries to get out of bed this morning. You felt like absolute crap and your watch kept going off every few seconds with heartrate alerts, and you were still wiping away the sleep from your eyes. 

You knew you had done too much yesterday, but you always seemed to forget that just cleaning your apartment would lead you into a couple-day flare up. You were always telling yourself that it was in your head, gaslighting yourself into thinking you were fine. 

But you weren’t. 

And now you were dealing with the consequences. On your first day of work. 

You had just gotten a job in a café, a small café with not the best pay, but it was still a job that was understanding of your disability. Something that was becoming rarer as you searched for jobs. 

The free coffee was a plus. 

Pushing yourself off your bed, ignoring the groans you let out from the pain in your back, you started to get ready for the day, alarm having yet to go off thankfully, giving you more time to get ready. You were going to try and take it slow today, knowing you can’t call in on your first day, no matter how bad you know your body wanted you to. 

You were barely dressed in your work uniform, a t-shirt the owner gave you with the café logo on it a pair of jeans that you made sure wouldn’t aggravate your skin, when your alarm finally went off. You had about an hour until you had to be at work, which now meant you could make yourself something small for breakfast, or you could walk a slow pace to work that would normally take you twenty minutes. 

Your question was soon answered when the thought of food made you want to gag. Deciding you would just pack a small snack to get you through until lunch when the nausea subsided, you moved slowly through you living room to the kitchen, picking up your jacket and bag on the way. 

You were out the door within minutes, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you walk out of your apartment building and onto the sidewalk. Your pace was slow, people passing you on either side but it was the only speed you could go. Even you were a little irritated at your slow speed. 

Thirty minutes pass and you could barely see the recognizable light green brick of the café. It was a little whole-in-the-wall café that sold variations of coffee and pastries. You were going to oversee the pastries and desserts, something you thoroughly enjoyed. Baking was always a stress reliever for you, something you pushed yourself to do even when in a flare up. 

You were about to pass a corner so you could cross the street when you were knocked into from behind, falling forward and just barely catching yourself with your hands, scraping you palms and getting some pebbles stuck. 

“HEY!” Someone from behind you yelled but the person who pushed you kept going before turning down and into a building across the street. 

“People.” The man muttered as you stopped in front of you, kneeling down so he was eye level with you. You were still looking down, your hands the focus of your attention as you looked at the small pebbles stuck in your skin. 

“Are you okay? Let me help you up?” The man you had yet to look up at moved his hands so he was grasping onto your wrists, careful to not tough your aching palms as he attempted to help you off the ground. 

But as soon as his skin touched yours there were literal sparks erupting from where he touched you. Colors of blue, green, purple, and gold sparked between you, making you both gasp in shock. 

Soul sparks were a common subject among the Soulmate community, each bond having theories about the colors that spark from the bond at first touch, but despite being a common occurrence, you had yet to ever witness the phenomenon, until now. 

Eyes wide as you watched the sparks continue for a couple of long seconds until the ended leaving you looking right at your newfound soulmate, someone who you had been listening to just last night. 

Seungcheol couldn’t help but to trace your features with his eyes, trying to memorize the look on your face as you watch the soul sparks with awe. You were more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. Yet, he noticed how tired you looked, the wince of pain as he helped you up off the ground. 

He wanted to demand you tell him what happened, why you weren’t lying in bed if you weren’t feeling well but he couldn’t. He was frozen in awe of you and couldn’t help but be in disbelief that he finally found his soulmate. 

You, however, were in shock that your soulmate was Scoups, from the group Seventeen. You couldn’t help but to suddenly feel unworthy, like you didn’t deserve to have someone like him as your soulmate. He was perfect in every way, and you were over here barely able to maintain a job for more than a couple months due to your disabilities. 

You tried to pull away from him, about to apologize for being his soulmate when he stopped you, gripping your wrist even tighter as he pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you away, past your work and further down until you appeared in front of a very large, white building. 

“I just found you, little mate, and I’m never letting you go now.” His voice was deep and rough, yet his expression was soft as he spoke to you. His eyes held so much love in them that you couldn’t remember why you even tried to pull away in the first place. 

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything to the people at the front desk, just moving forward with you and into the elevator, pushing the button for the third floor. 

“I, uhm, I have work to get to.” Your words have no force behind them, light as you still try to process the last couple minutes. 

“You don’t ever have to work another day if you don’t want to.” He reaches up and tilts your head back, his thumb holding gently onto your chin. “You’ll never have to worry about anything ever again, my little soulmate. Not now that I’ve found you.” He stared into your eyes for a couple more seconds until the elevator doors started to open. 

He was intense, but you couldn’t help but find it nice at the thought of not having to think. You felt completely safe and trusted him to keep you that way that you didn’t even think about where he was taking you or what he was going to do when you go there. 

You’d follow your soulmate anywhere. 

He brought you down a hallway and then into the first door on the right. The room was really bright and turned out to be a small doctor’s office. He didn’t even acknowledge the woman in the room who stood up as soon as the door opened, leading you straight to the bed and helping you get onto it. 

You couldn’t help but to give the woman a small, sheepish smile as he stared at the scene with a surprised expression as Seungcheol went to one of the drawers and started grabbing items to get the pebbles out of your palms and clean up and bandage your hands. 

“Maybe you should let the doctor do it?” You suggest softly to the man currently using tweezers to clean out your palms. He just shook his head at you, not stopping his movements. 

“Only I can take care of you.” He stated, almost playfully catching you off guard. 

“Oh yeah?” You ask him, kind of liking how possessive his words sounded. 

“Yup. Your mine to take care of.” Okay. That does it. There goes your heart. Exploding at the possessive nature of your soulmate. You were done for. 

You could feel your phone ringing in your pocket as Seungcheol bandages your hands up under the watchful eye of the doctor. You were surely fired before you even started. You were beyond late and you could tell by the small smirk at every vibration from your phone that your soulmate was kind of happy. 

You could tell he found pride in being able to take care of you, something you secretly always wanted. You’ve been so tired of taking care of yourself, of dealing with your disabilities that you wanted nothing more than to be taken care of. And now you’ve found a soulmate who loves to take care of others. 

Once he was done taping up your bandage, he picked you up and gently set you down on the floor, your head directly facing his chest making you have to look up at him. You can’t help but blush at the close proximity, something that causes a small smirk to grow on your soulmate’s lips. 

“Come, let’s get you something to eat.” He tells you, holding his hand out for you to hold onto. 

On the way to wherever he was taking you to eat, he told you how he would have to tell his company about you, that way he can get you access to the building and they can help you move into his apartment. It was a lot, and you kind of thought you were moving fast, but it felt right, so you just nodded up at him. 

Everything felt right with him. 

You went into the elevator again, to a different floor that you should have paid attention to, and into a very nice and expensive looking café. 

“This is the artist café, a place where we can go without anyone else having access to it. We’ll be fine here.” He explained, moving a hand to the small of your back as he led you to the counter and you both picked out drinks and food at his insistence.

He had you sit down at a small table right next to the wall of windows overlooking the city. He even helped you sit down, pulling your chair out for you and putting your straw in your drink lid. 

A phone call stopped him from sitting down across from you. 

“It’s my manager, baby. Give me a couple minutes.” You nodded at him, completely content with your drink, muffin, and the view. The window had some sun clings, rainbow patterns making the light shine through and into the room beautiful. 

The way the light fell through the window of the café was mesmerizing. 

But not as mesmerizing as your soulmate. 

[deathbyathousandspiders]

death of a hero. ₂

mcu!peter parker x fem!stark!reader | boy in the bubble part two.

IN WHICH after getting attacked, you find out that your dad & peter have kept spider–man’s identity a secret.

author's note — highly recommend reading part one first!! this cured my writer's block !! part three coming soon!!! :)

WARNINGS (18+ MDNI) — hurt reader [physically/emotionally], swearing, mentions of blood, a flashback to homecoming, lots & lots & lots of angst.

read part one here.

gif found here.

✨masterlist.✨

3.4k.

Never in your life did you think you’d be targeted and attacked, then be smiling by the end of the night. You couldn’t fight the small grin touching your lips, couldn’t stop the butterflies that numbed each wound still scarring your body. 

Somehow, despite it all, Peter’s words gave you something to hold onto, something to keep you going—something hopeful. It gave you something to rewrite the painful narrative that your attacker had spat at you just an hour earlier. 

“What a weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark.”

“You’ve seen the unthinkable, are still going, and you think you’re weak? Impossible.”

Once you finally got to the stairs to shower, you tried to swing your leg up, immediately met with a harsh reminder of how bad your bruises would be tomorrow. 

A wince parted your lips, sparking from the ache in your right hip and the direct strike it sent to the wound on your torso. 

Perhaps you needed Peter’s help after all. 

Taking a breath, you felt less hesitant than before to ask for help. It wasn’t like you had anything else to hide—you were tattered and torn up, topless and sticky with blood. 

Besides, you were used to walking with the weight of the wounds, at this point. You cut the distance to the kitchen in a matter of slow seconds. 

“Whoever attacked her tonight planned this.” Peter’s words made you pause just outside the entryway, hidden behind the wall just beyond. You blinked a bit, immediately feeling the weight of their conversation. “It wasn’t by chance, she was targeted–” 

“You don’t know that—” Even as he cut Peter off, your dad’s response was cut short. 

“And you don’t either!” Both of the boys in the kitchen held something urgent to their words; the same sense of urgency that laced the undertones between them all evening. 

Whatever conversation you were overhearing, you knew in your bones that they didn’t want you to hear it. 

Sucks for them. 

Peter continued: “The way she’s acting.. Something’s off about what happened.” Your blood froze to ice at the sentence. “And I think she deserves to know why I wasn’t there to defend her tonight.”

Thick silence swelled in the room, and you suddenly feared that your racing heartbeat would interrupt it. You had to remind yourself to breathe, and remind yourself to be quiet. 

As tempted as you were to step in and ask questions, you knew that whatever they were keeping from you was more likely to be discovered from where you were. 

Somehow, this was something they wanted to hide from you. The secret, whatever it was, made the air around you feel slimmer and heavy all at once. It sent your thoughts into a spiral, and an urge to question the two people closest to you. 

“Look, kid. I don’t blame you for what happened tonight.” Tony took words from you that you hadn’t even known how to phrase to Peter yet. It sent a twinge to your heart, draped your panic in sympathy for him. 

“I know.” You could tell Peter needed to hear the words, even if he didn’t know how to admit it. 

“As much as I agree with your conspiracy theories on Y/N’s attacker, I don’t know if coming clean about everything will solve this.” 

Something sunk in you, deflated your spirits. It hurt that they’d hid this from you—whatever it was—and had been lying for God knows how long. 

You could hear the jab in Peter’s own optimism when he spoke up again. “Then when do you plan to tell her?” At least, he was trying to come clean. 

“I don’t know..” Your dad was honest, and sullen about it. It only added to your confusion. 

Perhaps, they weren’t going to tell you ever. Maybe if you just revealed yourself and asked your own questions, you’d actually get somewhere. 

Peeling yourself off the wall and taking a few steps into frame, both Peter and your dad were completely oblivious to you. 

Despite how you stepped into view, they remained focused on the conversation, and your dad continued. “I’ll tell you what: you tell me how you’d suggest telling Y/N you’re Spider–Man, and I’ll consider it–”

The whole world stopped moving. 

“Peter’s what?”

You could’ve thrown up at the realization, at how cold and hollow the room suddenly became. The secret was out, and the quick and wide eyes that fell to you told you just how vital this secret was. 

Peter was Spider–Man. 

Even as you stared at him, eyes as wide as his, you couldn’t shake it. Your best friend was Spider–Man, working alongside your father and found family. 

The two of you held eye contact, trying to read the other. You could read the remorse and apology and panic swelling in his wide–eyed stare, but you hoped that some of the anger building in your own was silently translated regardless. 

Your dad tried to clear his throat, tried to slice through the rousing tension between the two of you, but you didn’t break from it in the slightest. 

“Dinner’s ready.” Tony tried to make a joke. To joke at a time like this, as if he wasn’t an accomplice. As if he wasn’t keeping this from you, arguably more than Peter had been. 

It was the last straw you’d been offering, swiped from your hands and dissipating with your patience. 

You scoffed, tears finally finding your eyes. The heat of them was boiled by rage, and you didn’t have the decency to hide it. “Fuck off.” 

The room was too hard to stand in. You walked away, reminded of why you were even standing in the kitchen in the first place. 

Pain itched its way up your priority list, but you didn’t care; finding a way up the stairs was the least of your worries. You were more concerned with how quickly you could get away. 

Especially as you could hear Peter calling after you, following the path you were carving between you. 

“Y/N!” He spoke your name like a plea, like it would somehow apologize for all the dirt you’d uncovered. The sound of his voice, however, only seemed to drive you further from him. 

It split your heart into more pieces than you knew how to count. 

You already battled the insecurity of being weak. A weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark. With all the time you spent in the compound, with your friends and family, you were one of the only powerless people among them. This whole time, you thought Peter understood. 

You thought the insecurity was shared, reciprocated. 

Clearly, you were wrong and an idiot. You were the only one powerless among them. 

It made you feel so stupid; to see all the inside jokes tossed over your head, to see every stupid excuse he made thrown back in your face, and he had the audacity to be sorry?

Damn right, he should be. 

Peter’s touch felt like sandpaper to your skin as he reached for your hand. You yanked it out, not bothering to turn around. 

You tried to be strong and suck up the pain, wanted more than anything to run up the stairs and lock yourself in your room—two quick steps up the stairwell and the adrenaline wore off. You slowed your pace, fighting off the wincing, and wanting anything but to ask for help from Spider–Man. 

“Y/N, please.” His voice broke, and you felt sinister to think him deserving of it. “Please, I– I wanted to tell you, I promise–“

He must’ve been surprised when you turned around, at the speed you pivoted, at how intense your expression came across, because he startled. 

Your eyes held no response to the hot tears flooding from them, only holding space for the anger and hurt you didn’t have the energy to hide from him. 

“Promise?” The word came out whispered, threatening to break just as his words did. “You promise, just like how we promised to tell each other everything?” You saw each stab of each word and exactly where it hit on him, especially as your voice grew in volume. “Just like how you promised I wasn’t weak, when clearly, you know damn well how ironic that is!”

Twin tears slid down the length of his face, and you caught the subtle tremble in his bottom lip that he tried so hard to hide. “Please..” Now he was the one whispering, and you wish it sounded as satisfying as you wanted it to. 

“Don’t fucking sit there and act like you’re the hero here, Peter..” You couldn’t help the growl, couldn’t help the distaste inking down your body. Sure, you’d been hit with a knife just an hour prior in the evening, but you didn’t feel stabbed in the gut until now. “Don’t act like you understand shit about how I’m feeling right now!”

From just beyond, Tony started walking over, stepping quickly. “Hang on, Kid.” He cut in, stopping just a few paces behind Peter. “Don’t blame Peter for this.” His words practically turned up the heat on your burning rage. It was an effort to keep from boiling over. “I was the one who told him to keep quiet.”

The shakiest breath you’d taken all night forced its way down your throat. You finally pulled your eyes from Peter, watching your own father flinch at just how hurt you were. “No, you were the one who decided to be selfish!”

The room had never been so quiet, even the walls and the city beyond hushed to listen. 

“I don’t care who you thought you were saving here, but it wasn’t me.” Perhaps rage wasn’t the word you should use to describe the venom dripping off your words. You were seething, a mixture of betrayal and downright distraught. 

“I am not useless.” You felt the need to emphasize; to you, or the two faulty in front of you, no one could tell. “I may be the only powerless person in the fuck ass Avengers, but at least I’m fucking honest.”

When you met Peter’s eyes again, you almost couldn’t keep your composure. Maybe he was breaking apart just as quickly as you were, but you didn’t put in effort to hold room for an apology for him. You didn’t see the need to give one at all. 

“I’m sorry..” He couldn’t bring his voice above a whisper, above the tremble shaking each breath he took. And watching the way your father’s posture craned in sympathy to it finally gave you a cue to leave. You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You glanced between both of them, still ignoring the consistent stream of tears dripping off your nose and chin. “You both fucking should be.”

Holding your head high, you made your way up the stairs, pausing three steps up your trek when you heard a singular step in your direction. 

“Don’t fucking follow me.”

And you didn’t look back. 

The second you shut and locked your bedroom door, unshakable sobs spilled from your throat and choked you dry. You had never felt so isolated, so alone, and so pained. 

Truly, you did not know how it would get better from here, and all you wanted was to be held. 

You didn’t even know who you'd talk to about this. This betrayal stretched across every person you trusted, further than your eyesight. 

It was stupid, and you blamed yourself, but all you wanted to do was talk to Peter. 

Maybe not about it or to confront it right then, but you suddenly missed him and his support. You felt like that had been stripped away from you. 

You weren't sure how to trust him anymore, let alone anyone else who hid this from you.

It didn’t help that you replayed countless upon countless interactions—with your father, with Ned, and with Peter Parker Spider–Man himself. 

It reminded you of the last time you were mad at Peter, three years prior. 

At the Washington Monument. 

You remember him flaking on the academic decathlon, and flaking the night before. You were upset because he was obviously hiding something and he wouldn’t tell you what. 

“You promised we’d hang out tonight.” You remember calling after him, walking half the length of the hotel hallway after him, too. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all week!”

Peter was a pro at walking backwards, then and now, and as you always knew him to be. Even as you knew him as a klutz, even as it led him to keep walking away from you. “I’ll be back soon. I promise!”

It felt unfair to him to get frustrated with him, but you were. You were upset. “What? So your promises mean nothing?” 

That got him to stop. 

“What? No!” Defense, immediately. His eyes displayed more apology than his lips did, taking steps towards you. “I just.. I have to go, and I can explain it later–”

Your head shook at him. Whatever sparked you to feel upset had been growing for a while. It had been growing since he started ditching you a few months prior. “That’s what you said last time.” There was hurt in your voice, and you know he heard it. 

“But I–”

“We promised to tell each other everything.” You recalled your childhood together, your friendship before you started growing up. The two of you had known each other since elementary school, so changes like this was inevitable. It wasn't fair to hold him to the same standards you used to. “But if you want to go, don’t expect me to be buddy-buddy when you get back.”

You remember how it felt to walk away, but you remembered how it felt to hear him leave even more. That was harmful. 

He was entitled to grow up, just as you were, but the shifty way he started growing distant from you got you overthinking. 

It got you nervous that maybe he was seeing someone, and that hurt more than anything else. Especially that he was hiding it from you. 

What sucked the most was that Peter wasn’t back soon, or even that night. 

In fact, he wasn’t even at the academic decathlon. 

Part of you was relieved to get space from him, seeing how difficult all these feelings were to process; another part worried about him, but every time your anxiety would fester, something would serve a reminder of why you were upset in the first place. 

You won the decathlon without him. As you should.

After that, your team went to the Washington Monument, and Ned swore that Peter would meet you all there. 

“Look!” Ned tried to convince you, tried to break your unamused expression. “His location says he’s almost here.” And the phone screen he flashed at you proved honesty. Peter was minutes away. 

Before you could muster a response, Ned’s screen changed, and Peter was calling him. 

There was an awkward exchange of glances between the two of you before Ned answered the call and you walked through the metal detectors. 

“Peter, are you okay?” You couldn’t help but eavesdrop. You missed a phrase or two while security patted down your blazer. All you caught was Ned muttering a subtle “I covered for you,” and then Liz Allen taking the phone from his hands. 

Something hollow carved into your stomach at the sight, and you began to speculate whether Liz was the girl he was sneaking off with or not. 

You didn’t wait to find out. You walked right into the elevator, joining the rest of your decathlon group. 

You didn’t remember much about the trip up the elevator, all you remember was light emitting out of Ned’s backpack and something radioactive blasting right into the roof of the cart. 

Suddenly, with trembling limbs and a newfound panic, your squabble with Peter Parker seemed more than minuscule. Regret was quick to fill that hollowing pit in your gut. 

You’d blacked out a lot of those scarce moments in the elevator. But you remembered when it was safe enough to move, the security guard began to open the hatch at the top of the elevator cart, and one by one help your classmates out. 

It wasn’t until there were four of you left in the elevator that it finally fell down the shaft towards your demise. There, in that Monument, you would die with Ned, Liz, and your teacher, Mister Harrington, you were sure of it. 

You’d never forget the relief you’d felt at the sight of red and blue rushing toward you, plummeting quicker than you were, and webbing your way to safety. 

It felt odd to look back on, knowing now that it was Peter who pulled that elevator up to your safety. How you were only concerned then with apologizing to Peter Parker, who glanced at you there from beneath that mask, completely unbeknownst to you. 

Once he’d gotten you up to the top of the Monument, Ned was the first to leap out to safety, then Mister Harrington. The two of them helped Liz get out, and to your luck, just as you took a step forward, the webs above you snapped. 

You and Spider–Man fell with a blood curdling scream breaking through you. 

“NO!!” He called after you, and quickly shot a web up to the roof again. His other arm reached out toward you, webbing your wrist rather quickly, keeping you from falling any further. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay– I got you. You're okay..” He told you, his tone as gentle and soft as you knew it to be; yet, not a single thought crossed your mind that it was Peter Parker. 

You shakily dangled beneath him as he tugged you up from that web. You fought to look up at him, to keep yourself from looking down; you fought to keep the tears at bay as the shock flooded from your system. 

The second your hands touched, he pulled you up and into him. You wasted no time before wrapping your arms around him, hugging him for dear life. And it made sense, now, why he felt so familiar—why his warmth was so comforting, and why his arm around your waist felt like it belonged there. 

He held you securely, lulling those reassurances to you, pulling the two of you up to safety at the top of that Monument. 

Just before he set you down, you held him tighter. “Pe–Peter!” You gasped, and felt every muscle beneath your hold tense. 

Now, you knew why. 

You pulled back from his arms, “Peter Parker, my– my best friend! He was on his way over here.” Your voice shook as you explained, but watching him carefully set you on the ground helped to steady yourself a little. “Can you make sure– Could you make sure that he’s okay?”

Looking back, the reason why Spider–Man gaped at you so long must’ve been Peter contemplating whether or not to tell you who he was right then and there. He stared at you, beneath that mask, for what felt like minutes. 

He gave a singular, upside down, nod. “I can do that, ma’am.” And his thick, Bronx, accent threw you off more than you wanted to admit. 

Then he fell down the empty shaft of the elevator. 

You’d never forget the moment he found you after that. 

You had just gotten out of the Monument. With a shaky hand, you went through your phone to track Peter’s location. It said he was a matter of meters from you, but you couldn’t spot him in the crowd. 

Just as you went to ask Ned, Peter’s voice hollered out, calling your name. 

Both of you turned in his direction, the crowd of people parting for him as he ran over to you, catching you in a bone–crushing hug. One of his hands cradled your head into his chest, and the other kept itself snug around your waist, just like Spider–Man had earlier. "I'm so glad you're okay.." He whispered it into your hairline, just for you to keep.

The world washed away in the arms of Peter Parker. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him, too, hugging him effortlessly closer. Apologies from your argument the night before fell from your lips, and he also followed suit. 

You recalled that memory as something that defined how you and Peter operated—no matter what, you couldn’t stay mad at him. 

You would always find a way to forgive him. 

Now, remembering the incident was a bit more haunting. There was no telling how you and Peter would come back from this, nor just how long you’d go without each other.

And you didn't think Spider–Man would get you out of it, this time.

tag–list: @yourfavoritefangirl @inkedeye2345 @wxnterwidow333 @generalmoonpolice @elianamarie-blog

comment for the part three tag list;)

[anon-sect]

TF Story requested by @mississippisocksblog

Drayson was in the special unit on the police force in charge of gathering intel in a special way. It was a simple get in and get out without the suspect knowing you was even present kind of job that his special unit was in charge of. It was made possible through TF advance technology. Many criminals had been put behind bars because of the expertise skills of his unit. But there were some casualties as well. Sometimes things didn't go exactly as planned and some officers were lost to the job. Yet that was the nature of his unit.

Drayson's mission was to gather evidence on Mr. Jim Brown, a big time CEO of Tangen Pharmaceutical Inc. They had been reported stories of foul play in the company and he was the ringleader of it all. All other attempts to prove it had failed.

Drayson was inspecting Jim's house while he was away on business when he heard Jim returning home a little earlier than expected. He had no way of getting out without being noticed. He took the special pill provided to operatives out in the field. He heard Jim coming up stairs to his room. The only thing he could think of was dress socks. Within seconds, he was nothing put a pair of dress socks on the floor. As long as he was ignored and not worn, he should be fine to escape sometime later.

Jim walked in to see his room had a little mess more than he usually has. "Someone was here." He spoke to himself. He knew the police were investigating him, but he didn't know how one could have gotten in without him noticing on his house cameras. It was a mystery. At the time, that didn't matter. He had another meeting to attend.

Jim went to get a new pair of dress socks, but found no clean pair left in his sock drawer. He needed to have clothes washed, he realized. He then saw a pair laying on the floor, all clean. He wondered how he had missed that pair. He picked them up and placed them on his bed. As he changed into his suite attire, he put on his dress socks and finished getting ready. He left ten minutes later for an important business meeting.

Drayson wasn't sure whether this was a good or bad thing. He could tell his suspect was heading to a big meeting, but he was now stuck on his feet. It would not have been too bad if not for some other factors. One, the guy didn't shower before changing, so his feet really reeked of foot odor and musk extremely bad. Two, his dress shoes smelled like a rodent had died in it. He really felt like gagging so badly being trapped and surrounded by such a foul stench. At least being walked on wasn't so bad. He was able to dull his pain sensors thanks to training he received by his supervising officers.

The meeting seemed to last a while, but he heard everything. Jim was money laundering almost millions of dollars. He had the evidence to take him down. All he needed to do now was get back to the station with what he knew and where to look, but there was only one problem. Jim was still wearing him. Getting the evidence was good, but he was being tortured by Jim's feet in the process. Several times, Jim would wiggle his toes. That caused the odor from between his toes to spread even more. Being on and surrounded by the foul smell was horrible. He was so ready to be off the guy's feet. He kind of wish he had thought of something else to turn into, but he was short on time at that moment.

Sometime later, Jim got back home from work, undressed and relaxed on his bed. He didn't take his socks off. For some reason, his socks were really comfortable to wear. They didn't seem like normal dress socks. He didn't know why, but he liked the way they felt on his feet. He decided he would wear them for a solid week or two just to see how comfortable they truly were.

ONE MONTH LATER...

Jim was relaxing on this bed after a long day at the office. He was amazed at his socks. He wore them to work every time for a good month, and they never tore or had a hole in them. He didn't know why that was, but he loved it. It meant he didn't have to change dress socks ever again. He could just wear this pair every time. He decided to take a nap on his bed.

Drayson was mentally pleading and crying for Jim to stop wearing him. He was forced to endure stinky experience after stinky experience for the past thirty days. It was horrible. He didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse that Jim didn't know his dress socks were a police officer. But he was so over being a pair of socks, but there was never an opportunity to change back without being noticed. Every night, he was just about stuffed in stinky dress shoes, preventing him from changing back. Then the next morning he would be back on Jim's feet. He could only pray and hope an opportunity would come soon. He didn't want to be stuck as the guy's socks forever.

[venus-haze]

Under My Skin (Black Noir x Reader)

Summary: Just when you think you don’t have a chance with Black Noir, an investor gala gives you a new opportunity to get under his skin.

Note: Gender neutral reader and no descriptors are used. This is based on an anonymous request and also the song I’ve Got You Under My Skin. I’m so glad I’ve finally gotten a chance to write for Black Noir! Pre-season 1 where you’re in The Seven. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: None. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

The piece of paper on the table in front of you was mocking you. Black Noir had already won three out of the four tic-tac-toe matches you were silently engaged in during The Seven’s daily briefing, and with the way things were going, he was poised to win a fifth. With a huff, you drew a hopeless circle and silently slid it back to Noir.

“Nightowl,” Homelander said.

You looked up, bringing your attention to him. 

“Great work on the team-up with Noir the other night.”

Noir slid the paper back to you, his tic-tac-toe win marked with a clean line, but he’d also drawn a smiley face.

You smiled. “Anytime.”

Homelander continued on, and you only half paid attention, your focus increasingly on the man sitting beside you. Even before you joined The Seven, you admired Noir for his stealth and prowess, something you aspired to. Upon your first team-up, it was clear your powers, most effective at night, complimented his incredibly well. Plus, he seemed to like you from the start, which put you in Homelander’s good graces most of the time. 

Absentmindedly, you drew a little heart on the paper, feeling your face heat up when you saw Noir’s head turned toward you. He didn’t acknowledge the drawing, instead beginning a new game of tic-tac-toe. Embarrassment flooded your chest, blood rushing in your ears. You hoped he didn’t think you were being weird.

“Last thing…” Homelander said, reading off the agenda. “Oh yeah, investor gala this weekend.”

“Great, another ass-kissing convention,” Maeve mumbled.

“Can we make sure shrimp cocktail isn’t served this time?” The Deep asked. “I just feel like—“

Homelander’s jaw clenched. “Jesus Christ, do I look like a caterer, Deep? Am I carrying around a silver platter–”

After a few more moments of bickering, Homelander ended the meeting, not without everyone still grumbling under their breath about the gala. No one particularly liked schmoozing over rich assholes, but they made your lucrative paychecks possible, so it was a necessary evil. 

You and Noir hadn’t finished the last round of your game, but when he left, he took the paper with him. 

You sighed. You knew you had it bad for him, but it was tough to gauge his feelings for you when his face was constantly covered by his mask. Even when you blatantly flirted, he seemed unaffected by your advances toward him. Of course you’d fall for this mystery of a man, the epitome of cool, calm, and collected. Your endeavor was starting to feel hopeless.

“So, when are you gonna make a move on Noir?” Homelander asked, walking out of the meeting room with you. “And don’t give me that ‘we just work together’ bullshit. The tension’s so thick I could laser through it.”

“You can laser through anything.”

He rolled his eyes, a slight smile on his face. “Look, there’s only so long I can take the two of you making heart-eyes at each other. I mean, get a room.”

“He makes heart-eyes at me?” you asked softly.

“Yes, so do something about it already.”

“Maybe at the gala. Everyone’s there to see you, anyway.”

“That’s true. No one would really notice if you and Noir weren’t there,” he said, before giving you a slightly painful pat on the shoulder. “Well, except me if you’re loud enough.”

You gave him a pointed look. “Thanks, Homelander.”

You never took his comments like that to heart. You knew you weren’t one of the more interesting members of The Seven, especially compared to the likes of Homelander and Maeve. It was a blessing in disguise, as you ended up stuck doing far less schmoozing than they did. Homelander could hide his disdain for whoever Vought wanted him to entertain for the evening, but on more than one occasion, you’d been on the receiving end of his rant about “pandering to the mud people.”

Noir always showed up to these events, despite not interacting with anyone unless it was to get food. Once in a while, you’d watch as someone tried to start a conversation with him, only to be ignored before awkwardly making an excuse to leave. At least he’d give you the time of day, silently letting you people watch with him, acknowledging your observations about the various guests with a nod, or on rare occasions, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly when you’d said something funny. You always felt especially accomplished then.

The night of the gala was only nerve-wracking because you were finally going to be forward with Noir and see where that got you, rather than your tentative approach in the past. 

When you arrived on the floor where the investor gala was being held, you went through all of the necessary introductions as quickly as you could. Across the room, Black Noir was playing the piano, as he tended to do during crowded events. You’d asked him before where he learned to play, and he wrote simply on a cocktail napkin ‘My grandma.’ As much as he trusted you, there were still parts of himself that were guarded, carefully revealing pieces of his past to you, though you could never fully put the whole picture together. In all the years you were a member of The Seven, you weren’t sure you ever would. 

His past didn’t matter to you. You were fond of the man he was, even if he didn’t reveal his whole self to you. Still, you wished you knew more. He didn’t seem to have any family, at least that he was in contact with. Then again, most of your teammates had complicated relationships with your families, yourself included. That one talent of his, however, showed that at one point there was someone he was close to, that he had a life outside of being a member of The Seven. You hoped the two of you could have that together.

Finally able to slip away from the people whose names you couldn’t be bothered to remember, you made your way over to Noir. He looked up from the piano, tilting his head a bit in acknowledgement of you.

“This party’s so boring.” You made a point to lean against the piano, letting the spandex of your suit highlight your body. “I mean, I can think of much better things you and me could be doing with our time.”

You weren’t sure if he was nodding along with your sentiment or the music. Ever so frustratingly difficult to read. Taking his response in stride, you sat down next to him on the piano bench. He didn’t stop playing, but he didn’t move away from you either. 

“Will you show me how to play?” you asked.

He paused, the soft music stopping momentarily. With a nod, he shifted closer to you, placing his gloved hands over yours. You let him guide you, though your gaze was on him rather than the keys. 

“You’re great with your hands, Noir,” you said. “I mean, playing piano, fighting criminals, I’m sure there’s more you can do, if you ever wanna show me sometime.”

No reaction. Maybe it was useless. Maybe Homelander was just messing with you. Maybe—

He rubbed the top of your hand with his thumb, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. It was something, finally some indication that he returned your affection. 

“You wanna get out of here?” you asked softly. “I only came for you, anyway.”

He took your hand in his, the music from the piano ceasing abruptly again. He brought his pointer finger to his mouth, and you giggled despite his silent instruction to be quiet. 

Glancing around, you noticed everyone else was preoccupied, mainly with competing for Homelander’s attention, as usual. The perfect opportunity for the two of you to slip away from the party with ease. Stealth was his speciality after all. 

You let him lead you away from the gala and to an empty balcony on another floor of the tower. The city seemed to sparkle especially bright that night. Feeling bold, you rested your head on his shoulder, your hand still intertwined with his.

“I wish we could be like this more often,” you whispered. “You’re the only person I like spending so much time with. I think of you, and I—it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I just wanted you to know.”

After a few minutes of silence, Noir moved away from you, reaching for something in his pocket. A folded piece of paper, the same one the two of you had been playing tic-tac-toe on just a few days earlier. He handed it to you, and you scanned the page before landing on the heart you’d drawn, finding he’d drawn another one around it.

“This is so high school,” you laughed, nevertheless taking his covered face in your hands and kissing him. “So, what do we do now, loverboy?”

He wrapped his arms around you, and you could’ve sworn you heard him sigh contentedly.

[jjkamochoso]

Rotten Right to the Core

Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Sanemi Shinazugawa x f!reader

Inspired by Charlie XCX’s song “Apple”; Sanemi worries about the traits he’s inherited from his parents…

Warnings: cussing, yelling, mentions of abuse, mentions of blood

[I guess the apple don't fall far from the tree/'Cause I've been looking at you so long/Now I only see me/I wanna throw the apple into the sky/Feels like you never understand me/So I just wanna drive/To the airport, the airport/The airport, the airport]

Each year as Sanemi grew older, he became more nervous to look at his reflection, afraid of what he might see. Would he retain the soft features of his mother? Or would his father’s presence haunt him as he stared into the eyes that reminded him of everything bad in this world? He hated feeling this way. Sometimes he would get so angry that he would break the mirror, desperate to erase the possibility of seeing the ghost of his father ever present on his face. After his rampage would finish, you were always there to dutifully clean up the mess, both physically and mentally. He was your lover, after all; taking care of each other was part of your promises to one another.

Today was one of those days where Sanemi grappled with his self worth.

Thankfully you were home, not having been sent on a demon slaying mission yet. As soon as you heard the crashing of broken glass, you prepared yourself for what was to come. Sanemi was a good husband—a great one, actually—and you knew that he had a violent upbringing. That’s why you never got upset at these outbursts; you couldn’t begin to understand how it felt to see the face of the man who brought your family so much pain look back at you every day of your life. You grabbed a dustpan and a broom on your way to the upset Wind Pillar.

“I’m coming in,” you said quietly, knocking on the door and opening it. You were met with Sanemi gripping the edge of the counter, his knuckles white with fury underneath the layers of blood dripping from his cut skin. The glass on the floor could wait—he needed to be bandaged. You opened the medical kit and dug through for tweezers and gauze. Sanemi stayed silent, still seething. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, ashamed at making such a mess. You didn’t care, though, you never did.

“I’m going to clean you up first and then I’ll get the glass, okay?” you told him, gesturing him to take a seat away from the damage he dealt. You sanitized the wounds on his knuckles before getting to work on extracting the small pieces of glass from the cuts. He barely flinched as you did this, making you frown. He must’ve been extra upset this time. When you started the bandaging process, he finally spoke up.

“I look like him. I hate it.” His voice trembled with fury. “I can’t stand knowing I’ll never be able to escape him.”

You listened intently in case he wanted to say something else, but he went quiet again. You were all done wrapping him up and placed a loving kiss on the freshly bandaged hand.

“You’re not him,” you whispered. “You’ve never raised a hand to me. You’ve never hurt me.”

Sanemi let out a humorless laugh, pulling his hand from your grasp. “Is that the standard for good husbands nowadays? What a joke.”

He abruptly stood, leaving the room. You sighed, knowing it was going to be a long day. You wished you had all the right things to say to him, anything to convince him that he’s not a carbon copy of his deadbeat dad, but you were at a loss. The only thing you could do was let him get his anger out elsewhere and he’d come to you when he was ready. You got down on your hands and knees and began to clean up the glass, careful not to cut yourself. You heard heavy footsteps re-enter the room.

“What are you doing?” Sanemi barked out.

“I’m cleaning up.”

“Would you stop? I can do it myself.”

You frowned again. “I know, I’m just trying to help.”

“Just stop, okay? I don’t need your pity!”

You ignored him and went back to your task at hand. That sent Sanemi over the edge.

“Seriously, get the fuck up. I said I’ll do it!”

You weren’t phased by his raised voice. “And I said I’m helping.”

Sanemi just stared at you, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. All of a sudden he stopped, his bloodshot eyes widening at the memory that entered his mind.

His father’s cup sloshed around with his alcohol of choice for the night. In one drunken movement, he spilled the contents onto the floor.

His mother lowered her eyes. “I’ll clean that right away.”

She took hold of the nearest rag and got down on her hands and knees, but his father didn’t care for her kindness, grabbing her roughly by the arm and hoisting her up before throwing her to the side.

“Get up! Do you think I’m some sort of useless child?” he screamed. “I can use a rag you idiot. I don’t need your help!”

“Sanemi? Are you-”

“You’re just like her,” he choked out. “You’re just like her and I’m just like him.”

You didn’t know what memory spurred that reaction but you figured it was a bad one. You reached out to comfort him but he was gone in an instant. You heard the front door slam shut and you knew he would be gone until evening. He couldn’t stand to be in the same vicinity as you during times like these when you reminded him of his mother as he was acting like his father. He couldn’t stand knowing he could never truly rid himself of the tendencies that were passed down from the man he was unfortunate enough to be born to.

[I guess the apple could turn yellow or green/I know there's lots of different nuances/To you and to me/I wanna grow the apple, keep all the seeds/But I can't help but get so angry/You don't listen to me/To the airport, the airport/The airport, the airport/I'm gonna drive, gonna drive all night/I'm gonna drive, gonna drive all night]

Sanemi hurried out the door, desperately needing air and wanting to put as much space as he could between himself and you. He couldn’t believe he let himself get so angry, especially at you. The recollection of his father yelling at his mother the same way he had just done to you was a grim realization for Sanemi that he was following in his father’s footsteps. He picked up his sword and began hacking away, channeling his frustrations into obliterating the training dummy. The more he thought about his previous actions, the more he raged, howling winds swirling around him in an outward reflection of the storm inside himself. He had completely lost himself in his fury, only halting when the dummy was chopped into tiny pieces. The scene in front of him was reminiscent of the one he left inside; yet again, Sanemi proved he only knew violence. He threw his sword away from him, disgusted with his actions, before falling to his knees and shoving his face in his hands. Why couldn’t he have been more like his mother? Calm, caring, loving. She was the light in the perpetual darkness of his father. Weren’t his hands, though calloused and stained with blood (literally and figuratively), capable of handling things with grace and a nurturing touch? Why, instead, was he destined to destroy everything? Or—even worse—was this not destiny in play, but his own choices leading him to blaze through life and hurt everyone close to him? He knew he had the ability to choose love and show the softer side of his personality, he had done it plenty of times in the past. You, his loving wife, had made it easier for Sanemi to follow a more peaceful path, encouraged him to embrace his kinder side, yet he still found himself vexed over little things too often for his liking. It was like vengeance and anger were innate needs, something he couldn’t give up no matter how hard he tried. You deserved better than him; he had made that clear from the very start of your relationship. You didn’t believe him for one second, knowing he had goodness in his heart as he had shown glimpses of his affectionate nature many times. The protective walls he had constructed inside himself were there for a reason but you often broke through them, Sanemi never understanding why you would commit yourself to such a grueling task with no reward at the end (you would disagree as being loved by him was the greatest reward you could ever want). Countless nights were spent by him wondering why you continued to be married to someone like him. He saw no positives for you in your union and when he expressed that, those were the only times it was you who was angry rather than him.

[I think the apple's rotten right to the core/From all the things passed down/From all the apples coming before/I split the apple down symmetrical lines/And what I find is kinda scary/Makes me just wanna drive

I wanna know where you go/When you're feeling alone/When you're feeling alone, do you…]

Sanemi had stayed crumpled on the ground until the sun threatened to dip below the horizon, signaling that nightfall was arriving soon. He gingerly walked inside the house, not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that came with his absence. It was dark in every room, save for the few candles you left burning in the kitchen to signal the plate of dinner you had left out for him. Sanemi’s stomach was in knots; he had left you all alone yet you still cooked his favorite food for him.

Some husband I am.

He savored the bites of ohagi as he sat in silence, wondering where you were. Had you finally had enough of him and left? No, you wouldn’t do that without telling him first. You were many things but you certainly weren’t heartless. Worry started settling into him as the sun wasted away. You shouldn’t be out after dark. Sure, you were a demon slayer, but he’d seen the most talented members of the corps slain when they were caught off guard. He gulped down the last of his food and took off in a hurry; to where, he didn’t know. He had no idea where you went when he would storm out. Cussing under his breath, he checked all the rooms of the mansion again.

“Y/n?” he called out. Nothing. Now he was starting to panic. He yanked one of the extra swords from the cabinet in your shared bedroom and tore through the door to the outside. He investigated the surrounding area, yelling your name but getting no response. His mind was scrambled, his breath scattered.

Where could she be?

As soon as that thought hit his brain, he knew exactly where you were.

He found you in the garden.

You were sitting on a stepping stone, your gaze settling on the flowers surrounding you.

“You shouldn’t be out in the dark. It’s not safe.”

Sanemi’s voice, having lost its harshness, made you smile. He was always worried for others and took on such a protective role; how he couldn’t see the positive impact he had, you didn’t know.

“I have my sword,” you replied, not facing him. “And I have you.”

Sanemi’s face burned at his wife’s saccharine tone. He took up a spot next to you, your shoulders brushing together. He wanted to apologize for his behavior today but he didn’t know how to start.

He was his father’s son: brash, unrelenting, unstoppable.

He was his father’s son: he was a coward.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

He furrowed his brow. “Why the hell are you apologizing? I’m the jerk here.” He took a deep breath, looking off into the distance as he tried to articulate his feelings. “I’m… I’m sorry. For everything. Today and in the past. It sickens me knowing the woman I love has to see the man that I hate.”

You reached out to hold his hand and this time he allowed you to, grasping you with a featherlight touch.

“I’m no good,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I don’t know why you stay.”

He awaited your usual heated response, but it didn’t come.

“Sanemi, look at me.”

You spoke with such authority that he didn’t dare defy you. His white hair resembled the color of the moon, both shiny brightly in the dark of night.

“I love you. All of you. You are not the monster you think yourself to be, not even close. Yes, you have a temper. Yes, you can get incensed on a whim. Those are not the world ending traits you think them to be. You are a good man, Sanemi. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Maybe then you could understand my love for you.”

Sanemi felt his heart thumping wildly in his chest. You always comforted him in ways he never knew possible, but something about tonight was making your sentiments affect him more than usual.

“From what I know, your father would’ve never owned up to his mistakes,” you continued, using your free hand to rub circles on his back. “You’re already a million times better of a man than he ever was.”

“Do you remember when we found those beetles you love so much?” you asked, earning a confused look from Sanemi as he nodded. “You raised the babies into healthy adults. That takes patience and compassion, both of which you have an abundance of in here.” You poked his exposed chest. “How about the time I was so sick I couldn’t stand? You took care of me all day and night, barely getting a wink of sleep yourself because you were so concerned.”

Sanemi did remember all of that.

“I was so scared you were gonna die,” he mumbled. “I don’t think I could live without you.”

“Those situations are what prove how great of a husband, of a person, you truly are.” You squeezed his hand. “Look inside yourself, my love. You’ll see that there’s traits you inherited from both parents. It’s up to you to decide who you’d rather embody, nothing is set in stone or chosen for you. I think you’ll find you take after your mother more than you think.”

Sanemi got up, brushing off his pants before offering you his hands to grab as he hoisted you up, pulling you into a warm hug. He nuzzled his nose into your neck, taking steadying breaths.

“Thank you,” he muttered, his eyelashes fluttering closed as he held you, “for being by my side. For loving me. For believing in me.”

As he stood there with you, cradling your body with his own, he was reminded of a substantially better memory than the one from that morning.

“Goodnight mommy!” Sanemi had said, his little feet sprinting as he threw himself into his mother’s open arms. She was sporting her large, beautiful grin that he missed seeing so often.

“Goodnight, my child,” she responded, burrowing her nose into his messy hair before placing a gentle kiss there.

He smiled to himself, kissing the top of your head.

I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

[cjlouwho]

Bucktommy prompt: Tommy is dealing with chronic pain and Buck helps him through it.

Part 3 of my injured Tommy fic

If Tommy were being honest, there were some positives to being paralyzed. The first time he'd told Evan as much, he'd stared back at him with eyebrows raised and a face that said, “I can't wait to see where this is going.”

So Tommy had gone through the list he'd made in his head.

1. He always got the best parking spots.

2. Little old ladies now helped him in the grocery store.

3. People were constantly opening doors for him.

4. He'd get to board first on a plane... as soon as he and Evan figured out where they were going to go for their honeymoon.

5. Sometimes people let him cut in line.

6. He'd learned how to do some sick ass wheelies!

Buck had laughed along with his list, even adding a few himself.

7. Bigger hotel rooms.

8. Tommy's biceps were larger than Buck thought humanly possible.

9. If Buck got tired of walking, he could just sit on Tommy's lap and get a free ride.

And while these things were all good and true, there were plenty of things that made Tommy's new life far more difficult.

One of which were the body spasms.

He'd been warned about them in the hospital. Had a few of them before he'd been discharged. Learned how to deal with them, for the most part, through physical therapy. He'd also been put on muscle relaxants, sleeping pills, and antidepressants.

Which really only caused more problems, because he spent the better part of a month feeling so doped up that he was asleep more than he was awake.

His doctors changed doses and moved around schedules, trying to find the perfect balance, but Tommy hated the pills no matter what.

They didn't only impact his day to day life, but also his ability and desire for sex.

And God, as his body recovered and he and Buck settled into their new normal, he really wanted to want to have sex.

Adjustments already had to be made do to the reduction of sensation he felt around his pelvis. Things got weaker and weaker from there, reduced to no feeling at all in his legs.

They'd had their quickie wedding at the courthouse in February, followed by a ceremony with family the next month, and started planning a honeymoon in the summer. And that's when Tommy decided he was going to cut back on some of his medications, and cut others out completely. He was not going to spend his honeymoon in a half daze, not caring whether or not his drop dead gorgeous husband was naked on top of him.

Buck had protested at first. He'd made it clear that sex didn't mean everything to him. The things they still did do were pretty damn great, and it wasn't worth Tommy being in pain.

But Tommy insisted.

So they'd met with his doctors and come up with a plan. He could go off the sleeping pills, taking them only when needed. They'd reduce the antidepressant in increments. And muscle relaxants could be used as needed as well.

For the most part, everything went fairly smoothly. His spasticity would rear its ugly head from time to time, but it wasn't anything unmanageable.

Until, one night, it was.

He should have known it was going to be a bad night. He'd been restless and uncomfortable all day long. He'd go from his wheelchair, to the couch, to the wheelchair, to the dining room chair, to the wheelchair, to the bed, then back to the wheelchair.

He'd tried wheeling around the neighborhood, usually enjoying using his arms to push himself around, but today he just felt stiff.

The muscle relaxants in the kitchen cabinet had been calling his name, but he'd resisted. Evan was coming off a forty-eight hour shift tonight, and he'd already texted Tommy a picture of himself all sweaty, no shirt on, telling him he was gonna get himself all cleaned up for Tommy.

And Tommy wanted nothing more than to give him everything he wanted, because he wanted it too. Which was a damn good feeling to have back.

He hoped that sex would help his body relax.

It didn't.

He'd gotten through it though, with a few little twinges of pain in his chest and back. Nothing too severe. And with Buck on top of him, his body flushed red, head tossed back and mouth hanging open, the pleasure overrode the pain.

It didn't get really bad until after Buck had fallen asleep. Tommy wasn't sure how long he laid there, trying to stay as still as possible so he didn't wake Evan.

Even as the pain started to radiate up his back, he clenched his teeth to keep himself from groaning.

Then it went to his chest, causing his breath to hitch. The spasm made his back arch off the bed. If it didn't hurt so bad, he would have made some sort of exorcist joke.

His hands gripped onto the fitted sheet and he could feel a vibration.

His legs were probably shaking. He couldn't feel it, but it always happened when he had these spasms, even the minor ones.

He couldn't hardly get a breath. Not while fighting to be quiet. Not while his back and chest felt like they were becoming harder than a rock.

Finally, he unclenched his jaw and let out a half-moan, half-gasp.

“Ev- Evan,” he huffed out, releasing his grip on the sheet to smack his hand down on the bed. Tommy couldn't quite reach out far enough to touch him. Not when everything was seizing up like this. “Evan!” he repeated, louder this time.

Even in his deep sleep, Buck must've realized something was wrong. One second he was dead to the world, and the next he was jumping up, tossing the covers off of them both.

“What? What's wrong?” he said, clumsily reaching over to the nightstand and turning on the lamp.

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut against the light. He didn't feel like seeing himself right now.

It took Buck's brain a few seconds to catch up to the sight in front of him. When he finally registered what was happening, he headed for the door. “I'm gonna get your meds.”

“No!” Tommy yelled, sucking in a breath. “D- Don't.”

“Tommy, you need your muscle relaxant.”

“I- I can't.” He managed to bring a hand to his throat, hoping Evan understood.

“You can't swallow right now,” Buck replied. It wasn't a question.

“Mhm. Just... Just-”

“Massage?” Buck guessed, getting to Tommy's side of the bed in record speed. “You think that would help this time?”

Figuring out the correct responses to these episodes was always a guessing game. Sometimes touch could make it worse. Tommy was pretty sure nothing could make it any worse right now.

“Mm... Mhm.” His jaw was getting so tight he could barely open his mouth.

“I'm gonna move you onto your side.” Very carefully, Buck turned Tommy's rigid body so he was facing away from him. It was an awkward angle, and he was having to do most of the work to keep Tommy on his side, but he managed to get into a position where he could start to dig the palm of his hand into Tommy's back.

At first, he was so tight Buck worried he was going to hurt him even more by massaging him. But, Tommy's breathing seemed to become a little fuller, and the groaning died down a bit.

So Buck continued. He'd alternate between using his palm, his fist, his thumb, to dig into the muscles and get them to loosen.

After a few minutes, Tommy had quieted down completely. His body relaxed into the bed as he flopped the rest of the way onto his stomach. The shaking in his legs subsided. He no longer felt like he was going to shatter into a million little pieces.

Still, Buck continued his massage. He worked up Tommy's neck, massaged his head, down to his shoulders, his back. He even massaged over his legs and feet, letting Tommy know what he was doing so he wouldn't think Buck had just left the room.

After about half an hour, Buck rested his hand at the center of Tommy's back. “Feel better?” he asked quietly, unsure if Tommy was even still awake at this point.

“Mhm. Thank you,” Tommy replied. He paused, blushing before starting to ask, “Did I... Do I need..?” He couldn't quite get the words out. Did I piss myself? Do I need to get up so we can change the sheets and clean me up?

It happened sometimes, when his body seized up. And while he nearly had full bladder control back, everything went haywire when it came to his spasms.

“No, you're good,” Buck answered, and Tommy thanked whoever might be listening that they were able to read each other's minds. “Think you can turn back over now?”

“Yeah. Yes, I- you'll have to help me though.”

“Of course.”

Once Tommy was resting comfortably on his back, head propped up under two pillows, Buck stared down at him. “You knew it was gonna happen today, didn't you?”

Tommy sighed. There was no point in lying. “Yeah. Not this bad though.”

“And you didn't take a pill earlier?”

“No.”

Buck sucked in a shaky breath as he nodded. He didn't answer. Didn't say a word. He simply turned and headed into the bathroom.

Tommy listened as he turned the sink on. It ran for a while, then Buck was back by his side. He ran a warm washcloth over Tommy's face, Tommy closing his eyes and melting into the touch.

Once Buck had finished wiping off his face, he started on his chest.

Tommy blinked his eyes back open, studying Buck.

He was tense, eyebrows knitted together as he focused on cleaning the sweat from Tommy's body.

Tommy's eyes drifted to Buck's hand, shaking ever so slightly.

He reached out and placed his hand over Buck's, gently gripping his wrist. Finally, Buck made eye contact with him.

“Please don't be mad,” Tommy said, knowing it was unfair even as he said it. Still, he hated to see Evan disappointed. Wasn't sure if he could handle it right now.

But as he looked further into Evan's eyes, he didn't see anger.

He saw fear, and sadness. Red-rimmed, wet with unshed tears that were threatening to spill over.

“M'not mad,” he replied, clearing his throat. “I- I'm upset. I don't like seeing you in pain, Tommy.”

“I know. I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to be sorry. Just don't do it again. I can't... I can't enjoy being with you- having sex with you,” he clarified, “if I think you're hurting yourself for it.”

“I know, Evan. I just... I just wanted to be with you tonight. Wanted to feel good. Wanted to make you feel good.”

Buck tossed the rag onto the nightstand, sitting down on the bed beside Tommy. “You know what makes me feel good?” he started, resting two fingers under Tommy's chin so he couldn't look away. “Seeing you comfortable makes me feel good. Us enjoying dinner together makes me feel good. Going for a walk in the evening, watching movies, going out for ice cream, you holding me in your arms, getting to hold you in mine, kissing you for hours and hours. All those things, plus like a million more, make me feel good. Sex is fun, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it because damn you've got some moves,” he said, getting a smile out of Tommy, “but it's not everything to me. You are everything to me. I know we can't always prevent spasticity, but when we can, it would make me feel good if we did. Got it?”

Tommy nodded, giving himself a few seconds before verbally responding. “You can't just say stuff like that to me, you know,” he said, choked up. “I'm a softy now.”

Buck scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully. “You were always a softy,” he informed Tommy, leaning in for a kiss.

“I'm gonna go get your pills now, okay?”

“Okay.” Before Buck could get too far, Tommy reached out and grabbed at his hand. “Hey. Have I told you lately that I love you?”

Buck cocked his head, giving Tommy a glare. “If you start singing Rod Stewart to me, I will divorce you.”

“No, seriously, Baby,” Tommy said, keeping a straight face. “Have I told you there's no one else above you?”

“I already know a good attorney.”

“You fill my heart with gladness,” Tommy continued, grinning, “take away all my sadness.”

Buck wriggled his hand free of Tommy's grasp, heading out toward the kitchen. “If you hear the front door slam, I'll be back later for my things.”

Tommy's smile only widened as he yelled out, “You ease my troubles, that's what you do!”

[roanofarcc]

SCHOOL GROUND BASICS

PAIRING: Pope Heyward x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Pope was a smart kid, which made needing a tutor feel utterly humiliating. To make matters worse, you were enlisted to help, the girl he’d been crushing on since he could remember. 

WARNINGS: Pope is the definition of gifted kid burn-out in his story.

masterlist

“My life is over. I’ve officially hit rock bottom,” Pope complained, sprawled out on the sand. His surfboard lay untouched and stuck in the sand a couple of feet away, lined up with the rest of his friends who had spent the afternoon enjoying themselves while Pope wallowed in his own self-pity. They took a break from surfing to join him, snacking on sandwiches and trying to act sympathetic to his cause, even though school wasn’t any of their first priority. 

That was fine for them, they all had their own set of skills outside of school that would do them just fine when they had to enter the big bad world. Pope didn’t feel like he did, though. A couple of treasure hunts and near-death experiences wouldn’t shine too bright on his college applications. 

Never in his life had his grades dipped below exceptional until he got involved with all of the gold bullshit. Did he regret it, no, of course he didn’t. But he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He had a failing grade, a blemish the size of a crater on his record that he needed to scrub clean. To some, maybe that didn’t seem like the end of the world, but to Pope, a failing grade felt like someone had wrapped him in barbed wire. 

To make matters even worse, he was no longer neck and neck to be number one in his class. Since he discovered class rankings in elementary school, he was determined to be number one. His only competition came in the form of a girl who matched his intelligence in every way. They had a friendly competition, a back-and-forth battle for the number one spot. But he was way behind, and she was leagues ahead. 

“You’ll still graduate, right?” Sarah asked, ringing the salt water from her hair. 

Pope stared at the sky, the pretty blue mocking him. “Yeah.” 

“Then what’s the problem?” 

JJ answered for him. “Pope has a surprisingly competitive spirit. Number one or nothin’.” 

“Did Ms. Wright say anything about how you could get your grade up?” Kie asked, forcing a sandwich into Pope’s hand to get him to eat something. 

He reluctantly took a bite before he replied, “I think she wants to publicly shame me.” His friends looked at him, confused. “She suggested a tutor.” 

JJ laughed loudly, earning a quick slap on the arm from John B. “Sorry! I just ever thought we’d live in a world where the man himself needed to be tortured.” 

Pope groaned in pain, his ego more bruised than anything. Since middle school, Pope was the one tutoring people. He helped JJ memorize his times tables. He got John B. to read Of Mice and Men in its entirety and write a B paper over it. He even helped Kie pass chemistry. And now look at him, a disgraced once straight-A student fallen flat on his face. 

A warm hand patted his shoulder. He lulled his head to the side to the sympathetic smile of Sarah. “Getting a tutor isn’t so bad, Pope. I had one to help me pass algebra.” 

“You guys don’t get it,” Pope sighed. 

“Because we’re all dumber than you?” JJ asked, his eyebrows raised. 

“No!” Pope quickly said. “You guys aren’t dumb, I’m just…school is my thing, all right? Or it was. It’s what I was the best at. Now what do I got?” 

He missed the slightly worried expressions his friends shared with each other. A beat of silence passed before Kie broke it. “School is still your thing. You just need a tutor that’ll get you back on your feet, right?” 

“Yeah! Did Ms. Wright suggest anyone?” John B. asked. 

Pope groaned once more like he was physically ill. Maybe he was being extra dramatic, but it was just how he felt. “She gave me a couple of names. None of them I want to sit in a room with and listen to them try to explain this shit to me, though.” Because they were his classmates, and having to sit in a room with them knowing that they knew he was failing was humiliating. 

For a moment, Pope thought JJ caught a glint of sunlight in his eyes, causing him to squint, but that thought was quickly erased when a smirk fell across JJ’s lips, and he scrambled up from the sand. As he hopped over Pope’s body, he said, “I’ve got you, man.” 

Pope didn’t really want to know what he meant by that, but he was forced to when you were suddenly peering down at him. Pope thought he was hallucinating for a moment, but water droplets from your hair sprinkled his skin and he was suddenly very aware of your presence. 

Kildare was small, and the attendees of his school he knew almost as well as the back of his hand. You, he paid more attention to than most. If he was being honest, your intellect was what drew him to you. The way you’d always raise your hand in class, beating him to the answer or the way you spoke with much thought and care. To Pope, you were admirable, but he never worked up the courage to talk to you. Before the sharp turn of his life and grade point average, he told himself he’d get to know you before you graduated, but it seemed null and void. He needed to focus on his studies, not on his stupid crushes. Besides, Pope never had the best luck with girls.

But then JJ somehow got you to take a break from surfing and dragged you over to the rest of the group. He had seen you at the beach before, but up close you were even more stunning than when you were at school, more carefree and relaxed in a swimsuit that complimented your body and the rays of sun illuminating you in a glowy wonder. 

Kie kicked Pope’s leg, prompting him to clear his throat and sit upright quickly. 

“W-What’s up?” Pope managed to get out, cringing at himself as the words tumbled unsmoothly from his lips. 

“You need a tutor, and I found you one!” JJ said, proud of himself. 

Your lips quirked upwards in a light smile, but a confused one too. “You need a tutor?” You didn’t sound judgmental; your voice was kind but questioning, but Pope wanted to bury his head in the sand and disappear. 

“Kind of,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. 

You seemed to contemplate it for a moment, even though he hadn’t asked you because he was all too embarrassed. Yet, you nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it.” 

JJ clapped you on the shoulder, a cocky smile on his lips that Pope was tempted to smack off of him. “See? Was that so hard?” 

Pope was sweating. His hands were clammy, and he felt like he was on the verge of passing out. What was wrong with him?

“What is wrong with you, dude?” John B. asked, eyeing him from the couch. 

“I don’t know, man!” 

“I think someone’s nervous,” Sarah said with a teasing smirk. “That girl JJ found to tutor you, she’s pretty, huh?” 

Pope stopped his pacing to wipe his hands off on his shorts. “JJ hates me.” 

JJ objected. “No, I’m doing you a favor. Killin’ to dogs with one stick.” 

“Birds,” Kie interjected. “It’s ‘kill two birds with one stone.’” 

JJ furrowed his brows. “Why would someone throw rocks at birds?” 

“Why would someone kill a dog with a stick?” John B. retorted. 

“Guys!” Pope yelled, drawing their attention. “Can we focus here, please? I’ve been trying to talk to her all year, and now she’s gonna think I’m an idiot.” 

Kie rolled her eyes. “You’re not an idiot, Pope. It’s one class. Besides, this gives you the perfect opportunity to talk to her, alone.” 

“Exactly,” JJ said. “You’ll make the grade and maybe some action!” 

John B. must’ve noticed the stress clearly painted on Pope’s face. He pushed himself up from the couch and said, “Let’s start with a phone number, okay?” Placing his hands on Pope’s shoulders, he shook him slightly. “You’re overthinking all of this. Just be cool.” 

“Be cool,” Pope repeated, taking in a deep breath. “I can be cool.” 

Cool had varying definitions, but Pope was sure that he missed the mark on every one. He had moved from being nervous about talking to you, to being nervous that his brain couldn’t pick up on simple themes in the novel he had read just the night. He hated being less than perfect in anything school-related because that was his strong suit.

“Are you okay?” you asked, setting down the novel on the tabletop of the quiet beachside picnic table. The sea breeze ruffled the pages of your notebook, prompting you to place a small rock from the parking lot on the corner to keep it down. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m good. Just…thinkin’ about the book,” he replied half-heartedly. 

Your eyes narrowed for a moment before you reached across the table, gently took the book from his hands, and closed it. “I think you’re too much in your head.” 

Pope laughed, void of amusement. “Isn’t that where I’m supposed to be for this stuff?” 

You shook your head, fingernails tapping against the glossy book cover. “When you overthink it, you second guess your gut, which is usually right. You need to loosen up a little.” 

Pope was wound tightly because, up until that point of his life, it had worked for him. He was the voice of reason, sometimes, for his friends' wack-ass ideas that more often led them into dangerous situations. If he acted too carefree, where would his friends be? They all were shoe-horned into a role and that was his, the tightly wound brainiac who was failing English. 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Pope said. You smiled, thinking he was joking, but he was dead serious. 

“Come on,” you said, shoving your books into your bag before you slung it over your shoulder. Pope opened his mouth to ask what you were doing, you had agreed to tutor him for another hour. But you lightly pressed your hand over his mouth and said, “Don’t ask questions, just go with it.” 

He followed you, not listening to the troublesome voice in the back of his head. You led him down the beach to the water, where waves lapped in the setting sun. The air was cool but comforting, paired with the sounds of the ocean For a long moment, the two of you just stared out at the water, the sun shimmering over top as the sky was painted an image of melting colors. 

“JJ said you were embarrassed to have a tutor,” you said, breaking the silence like a wave crashing into him. Pope hung his head, his chest tight. 

“A little, if I’m being honest.” 

You nodded in understanding. “You shouldn’t be, you know? You can’t be good at everything.” Your tone caused him to turn his head, meeting your gaze. 

Pope scoffed. “Right. School’s the one thing I’m good at. And clearly I’m not even that good at that.” 

You looked at him bewildered. “You can’t be serious?” He said nothing, very serious. “Please, Pope. You are good in school. If you weren’t Mr. Clemmons wouldn’t brag about your science project every single week that he displays on his desk. Your picture’s still in the hallways because no one has one a national spelling bee since you had. And I’ve seen you surf. I see you helping out your dad, talking to customers like they’re your family members. I know you’re good at fishing and all of your friends seem to love you.” 

Pope felt as hot as the red sun sinking in front of him. His lips parted, but nothing came out for a beat. He could only look at you with a funny feeling wrapping his heart in tangled strings. 

“How do you know all of that?” 

You’re gaze fell onto your feet buried in the sand, suddenly sheepish, but Pope wanted you to look at him again. There was something about your eyes on him that made him feel…nice. Just nice. “I notice you.” You paused, your face scrunching up slightly. “Not in a creepy way. Just in a…an observant way.” 

“You notice me?” Pope repeated, chewing on the words slowly. It was hard for him to put the feeling into words, which may be linked to the fact that his English grade was suffering. He liked the feeling though. He wanted to sink into it a little more and ‘just go with it’ as you had said mere minutes ago. 

You looked back at him, and he felt his lips curl upwards in a small smile. “Yeah. And I’ve always wanted to say something to you, other than asking to borrow a pen, but I always chickened out. Then JJ came up and asked me to tutor you, and I figured that was my shot.” 

Pope didn’t know how to react. The fact that you had wanted to talk to him, maybe not as much as he wanted to talk to you, made his head spin. He felt giddy and like he could throw up at the same time. He had to play it cool, though, as John B. had said. 

“Cool, cool, cool,” he repeated himself, nodding and making himself look very uncool. He then took a deep breath, letting the sea air fill up his lungs. “I noticed you too.” 

Somehow, you smiled even brighter, it shined even in your eyes. He tensed up as you took a step closer, making the distance between the two of you mere inches. Pope could see the finer details of your face he hadn’t noticed before. He realized you could see him up close too. His forehead was sweaty and the way he had sat made his shirt wrinkle. His lack of sleep from worrying about school probably showed in his eyes and he feared the scar across his nose from when Rafe and Topper jumped him was off-putting. 

You tilted your head just slightly and said, “You’re still overthinking things.” Your voice was just above a whisper, carrying across the empty beach by the wind. 

Pope swallowed thickly and shrugged his shoulders. “Habit.” 

Reaching up, your hands smoothed the collar of your shirt, raising goosebumps along his skin. You leaned in and Pope felt like he was going to pass out. But he quickly tried to steel himself and not screw up the position he, by some miracle, found himself in. Despite his racing brain and racing heart, he leaned forward and met your lips in a quick but nice kiss. Your lip gloss tasted like strawberries, and you smelled like sunscreen. 

After you pulled back, resting your arms around his shoulders. All he could mutter was, “Wow.” 

You wiped some of your lip gloss off of the corner of his lip with your thumb. “And that, Pope, is what happens when you follow your gut.” 

He choked out a laugh. “Are you still tutoring me right now?” 

“No,” you replied. “But just really good at my job.” 

As the sun sunk fully into the ocean, Pope felt himself shine in tune with the twinkling stars. He followed his gut again, kissing you for a second time without his own pestering voice in the back of his head. He just heard you and the ocean ringing in his ears. 

[beenbaanbuun]

seventeen’s reaction to their youngest member getting injured

choi seungcheol

has already lost 10 years of his life just from worrying about you

loses 5 more when he has to accompany you to the hospital because of your broken leg

he tried to save the lecture until after he knows you’re okay, but he can’t help it when the leader in him comes out

the conversation *cough* reprimand *cough* lasts for the whole car journey and by the time you’ve got the the hospital, you’d already been blocking it out for 10 minutes

“you need to be more careful,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. he might be frustrated, but he still wanted to show you he cared. “it might be a broken leg this time but who knows what it’ll be next time!”

at the end of the day he just cares about you too much to see you hurt

yoon jeonghan

if it isn’t bad, he’ll just tease you about how clumsy you are

probably still teases you if it is bad, but when you start tearing up because of how much it hurts, will immediately stop

causes hell just to make sure you’re getting the best treatment possible because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t make you were were as comfortable as possible

eventually calms down when you assure him you’re fine and you feel perfectly alright with what you’d been given

leaves 80% of the lecturing to seungcheol and just gives you a tiny one himself, mostly about how you’re not allowed to worry him

once he knows you’re feeling a little better, a switch will flip and he’ll go back to his regular annoying self just to try and get things back to normal

“well at least you didn’t fall down the stairs,” he laughed before cutting it short just a few seconds later, “oh, wait… never mind, you did!”

hong jisoo

was the only one around when you cut your finger open with the kitchen knife

doesn’t know what to do so he sends a text to seungcheol and shoves your hand under the cold tap for a while

tries to cheer you up but doesn’t really know how to when you’re bleeding profusely and crying just as much

eventually lands on his usual method of doing stupid shit just to get the tiniest smile out of you while you wait for anyone else to come and do the important part of patching you up

“keep your hand there,” he tells you as he lets go of your wrist and steps away from you, “get ready to feel better.”

100% does that silly little dance of his which has you cry laughing instead of just regular crying

you almost forget how much it hurts and shua considers his job done!

wen junhui

kind of clueless on what to do when you go to him with a bloody nose and tell him you got hit in the face playing foot volleyball

sits you down on the sofa whilst he frantically google’s how to stop nose bleeds

asks you to go and grab tissues before realising that you’re the one he’s supposed to be helping and goes to get them himself

winces a bit when he gets blood on his hands but remembers that he’s doing it for you and the grossness of it goes away pretty quickly

tries to talk you through the pain, letting you know about what he’s been doing with his day and what he’s planning to do later

“and then you came in to talk to me and i think that’s it,” he finished up recounting every second of his day as he switched the tissue for a clean one, “and then later i’m going to head to the practice rooms to-”

definitely forgets about your injury once the bleeding has stopped and boops you on the nose only to profusely apologise when you wince in pain

kwon soonyoung

if you could run away with a sprained ankle, you definitely should because hoshi will turn up his clinginess by about 80% the moment he hears that you have an injury

will not let you out of his sight until he knows you’re okay again

unfortunately for you that means you have a permanent body guard telling you what you can and can’t do which gets very old very fast

you cant even hide from him because god knows he will seek you out and yell at you for walking on your bad ankle too much

might be overbearing but in reality he just wants you to get better as quickly as possible because it makes him sad to see you in pain

“sit down and let me do it,” hoshi shouted as he noticed you trying to get a bowl of cereal for yourself, “and you wonder why i like to keep an eye on you…”

you eventually give into the clinginess in the hopes that he’ll get bored after a while… he doesn’t…

jeon wonwoo

freezes when he spots you crying and holding your wrist in front of the stove

literally does not know what to do in this situation because he usually palms it off onto one of his other members

but he’s the only one around and you’ve just been burnt and desperately need someone to help

so he walks over to you and drags you to the sink with your good wrist, all whilst muttering complaints about how you need to be more careful

strokes your hair when you’re running your wrist under the cold water to try and soothe you just a little

“you’re okay, y/n,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your hairline, “i know it hurts but the longer you hold it under the water, the less it’ll hurt in the long run.”

passes you along to the next member that comes along but will check up on you every few minutes just to make sure you’re okay

lee jihoon

his first response is always ‘go find seungcheol’ when you go to him with an injury, but sometimes he’s the only one around and you look so upset and fuck… he’ll have to deal with this

very methodical about it - asks you what’s wrong, finds out what he needs to do, does it

he’ll try and hide his smile as you tell him about what stupid thing you were doing that got you hurt this time, but tries to hide it because at the end of the day, you’re still injured

usually shuffles in close whilst he’s bandaging you up just so you can lean on him in it gets too painful at any point

he refuses to complain about you leaning on him when you’re hurt because how can he deny you physical affection when it’s obviously making you feel better

in reality he just has a soft spot for you and uses you being hurt as an excuse to let you hug him with no complaints

“there we go, kid,” he rubs your arm affectionately, “all patched up…”

lee seokmin

panics because oh god his kid is hurt and he doesn’t know what to do and WHERE IS SEUNGCHEOL

will sit down and hold you close while he rings around the members to try and find one to come and help

he claims the cuddling is to help soothe, but you both know it’s so he can calm himself down more than anything

eventually gets ahold of another member and begs them to come home and help

breathes a sigh of relief when they agree; now his only job is making sure you’re calm and comfortable and nothing hurts too much

cue seokmin literally becoming your butler for the next 20 minutes whilst you wait for someone else to get home because he needs to make sure that you have everything you need

“do you need more tea?” he asks as you take the final sip. not even a second passes before the mug is taken from you and more tea is poured. “i’ll get you some more, just so you have it if you want it, okay?”

kim mingyu

tries his hardest to help but he can’t help but gag when you tell him about how you trapped you fingers in the car door

doesn’t know what to do so he literally wraps up your whole hand in gauze and calls it a day - it’s someone else’s problem now

spends more time trying to cheer you up than he actually does helping with your injury because at least he knows how to make you smile

tells you bad jokes until you can’t breathe from laughter and you’re begging him to stop

he stops but only so you can get your breath back, and then he starts again because laughter is clearly a great pain killer

“if it’s more jokes you want then it’s more jokes i have, pipsqueek,” mingyu smiled at you as you frantically shook your head, “no more jokes? well that’s boring… how about this one? why did the old man-”

continues until someone more qualified to deal with your gross injury gets home

xu minghao

doesn’t lecture you in the same way seungcheol does, but definitely gives you a speech about how you shouldn’t be putting yourself in dangerous situations

rolls his eyes at you when you try and pass the blame onto another member who you claimed to be your ‘partner in crime’ because he knows it was definitely just your own clumsiness

still tries his hardest to help clean up the scratch on your face that you got from who knows what - minghao had zoned out part way through your convoluted story

lets you squeeze his hand if the antiseptic makes your scratch hurt too much

even let’s you pick out a cute bandaid to put over it just because he knows it’ll cheer you up

“if your stylist gets mad at you, don’t come crying to me,” he grumbles as he presses a kind kiss to the bandaid, “it’s your own fault, no one else’s.”

tells you to be careful before you go running off to cause more trouble

boo seungkwan

very much an ‘i told you this would happen’ kind of person, even if he had not ‘told you so’ like he says he did

will roll his eyes when you get brought back to the dorms with a cast on your wrist, but is the first to help you carry your stuff inside

yells at you if you even think about lifting a finger but complains about how you’re making him do everything for you

you always tell him if it’s that much trouble you’ll do it yourself, but he’ll just glare at you and tell you to stop talking nonsense

threatens to tell seungcheol whenever he catches you with your arm out of your sling

would actually go through with it if he thought you were doing any real damage to your arm

“the doctor wouldn’t like you doing that, you know,” he muttered as he watched you stretch out your aching limb, “neither would seungcheol…”

choi hansol

vernon knows that if you go to him with an injury, you have exhausted literally every other option you have

literally clueless about what to do when you walk up to him with a black eye because you ran into a glass door

google is his best friend as he frantically searches how to reduce bruising

has no qualms with sending you to retrieve your own ice pack from the freezer as he does some more googling…

won’t do much to try and cheer you up other than putting on a movie and grabbing snacks for the two of you to share

doesn’t complain about holding your ice pack in place when you fall asleep on his shoulder… after all, it just means more snacks for him

falls asleep himself before the film is over and your ice pack ends up on the floor… so much for trying to reduce the bruising

lee chan

probably his fault you were injured in the first place so he makes you promise that if he helps then you won’t tell any of the older members

you only agree to the deal when he offers to buy you a meal as well as helping you clean and bandage the cuts on your knees from where he tripped you

he honestly tries his hardest to help, partly because he feels bad and partly because he doesn’t want to face anyone’s wrath when they find out he’s the reason you’re injured

tries is the main word, though, as he ends up having to get help from someone else anyway

he chooses the least likely member to get him in trouble and together him and mingyu puzzle over what to do about your knees

you eventually end up guiding them through the process of cleaning them and then wiping them down with antiseptic before bandaging them

“do you think i did a good job?” he asks once the bandages were secured over the grazes. you glared at him. “fine, a good enough job for you to not tell on me…”

[7ndipity]

False Pretenses

fwb!Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Just how fair does the ‘benefits’ aspect between Friends with Benefits actually extend? Based on this meme.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: crack to fluff, suggestive moments and ending, swearing, Jk has side by side washer/dryer units cause it’s funnier, reader’s referred to as ‘Ma’am’, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Sorry it took me soo long to get to, I hope you’ll still like it tho! (I’ll also be posting a couple more pieces with this pairing in the next couple weeks, so keep your eyes peeled if you liked this)

Masterlist

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It was the type of text you had gotten more than used to receiving from him over the past few months, smirking down at your phone as you waited for the elevator in his building.

“Need you so bad rn. Come over?❤”

The heart was a new addition, he must be feeling particularly needy today, you thought to yourself as the elevator doors finally opened.

Since the two of you had established this new part of your friendship, it was rare for you to go more than four or five days without receiving some variation of the same short message from him.

You were still slightly surprised by his text, seeing as you had only been over the night before, but you weren’t complaining by any means. Though you may have enjoyed pretending that Jungkook was the needier one in your arrangement, if you were completely honest, you were just as affected by him, finding yourself missing him on the nights you didn’t spend together.

When he opened the door, you noticed he looked a little more disheveled than usual, his hair sticking up all over the place, as if he’d been running his hands through it, a habit you knew he did when he was stressed.

“You got here fast.” He noted, letting you into the apartment.

“Well, your text made it sound kinda urgent, didn’t want to leave you waiting too long.” You said, wandering through into the living room, slowing to a stop as you caught sight of the chaotic state of the space, cleaning supplies and laundry scattered around, furniture moved all out of place.

“What happened in here?” You asked, turning back to Jungkook, who was now avoiding your eyes. “Koo?”

“I lied, I didn’t want sex.” He said guiltily, looking up at you. “I need you to help me clean.”

“I-, what?” You blinked at him, unsure if you heard him correctly.

He slumped back against the counter, looking stressed as he ran his hand through his hair again. ”My parents decided to surprise me by announcing they’re coming to visit tomorrow, but I’ve done nothing but sleep since I got home from tour last week, so the house is a fucking mess and everything’s a disaster and I need help, please.” He pleaded, staring at you.

You immediately began pulling your coat back on, turning back towards the door. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Y/n, please!” He quickly followed after you, catching your sleeve. “I’ll do anything you want! I’ll buy you dinner, I’ll rub your back, I’ll even let you pick what we watch for a month!”

You paused, turning to look back at him with a raised brow. “Even if I want to re-watch ‘Our Beloved Summer’ for a third time?”

He bit lip, trying to fight back a pained grimace before nodding slowly. “Whatever you want.”

You stared at him for a long moment.

“Fine.” You said reluctantly, caving as you saw the genuine desperation in his eyes. You could never say no to him.

“Thank you!” He sang, catching you in a tight hug and spinning you around in a circle. “I promise I’ll make it up to you!”

“Yeah, whatever,” You grumbled as he set you back on your feet. “Where do we start?”

“Laundry room?” He offered. “It’s mostly done, I just need to vacuum behind the machines.”

Do you really think your mom’s gonna look back there?” You raised a brow, following him down the hall.

“She’s very thorough.” He said seriously.

“Fair enough.” You shrugged. “I don’t quite see why I’m necessary for this part though?”

“I was afraid if I tried to clean back there by myself, I’d slip and get stuck or die.”

“So you want me to slip and die behind your washer instead?” You shot him an accusatory look.

“No! I’ll hold onto you and keep you safe,” He smiled reassuringly. “You know, like the buddy system.”

“I thought the buddy system was for camping so you didn’t get lost or eaten by bears?”

“It’s a multi-purpose system!” He said, his earlier agitation starting to flare up again at your teasing. “Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it, pass me the vacuum.” You relented, boosting yourself up on top of the dryer.

He held onto your hips to keep you balanced as you cleaned, his mind beginning to wander as he stared at your ass, his fingers starting to slowly knead your flesh absent-mindedly.

“Koo.” You warned, shooting him a quick look.

“Right, sorry.” He snapped back to attention, ceasing his movements and focusing back on the task at hand.

You finished up quickly, passing the vacuum attachment back to him and letting him help you down.

“Thank you.” He said.

“You’re welcome.” You answered, looking around expectantly. “What’s next?”

The apartment wasn’t nearly as bad of a mess as he claimed it to be, but it still took both of you several hours of work to get everything back in order, finishing off with laundry and changing all the bedding.

“Why are these sticky?!” You asked, mildly horrified as you helped him strip the sheets off his bed.

“Relax, it’s just caramel sauce.” He said.

You looked up at him confused. “We didn’t use-?”

“No no, that was just me,” He explained quickly. “I had ice cream last night.”

“Without me?!” You said, clutching your chest in feign hurt, making him roll his eyes as he let out a huff of laughter.

“I’ll add that to the list of things I need to make up for, okay?” He said.

“Eh, it’s better than where my mind went.” You said, only half joking as you grabbed the fresh sheets from him and turned back to the bed. “Almost thought you were fucking around behind my back for a second there.”

Facing away from him, you missed the way his expression suddenly turned serious as he looked at you. “I would never.”

It was strange, despite the supposedly ‘casual’ nature of your arrangement, you both found yourselves making little comments like that, words and exchanges that sounded a lot more like things said between a committed couple, rather than just two friends helping each other out till you found something more serious.

“Alright, I think that’s everything.” You said, snapping him out of his thoughts. You had finished making up the bed, even turning down the covers for him.

“Thank you, y/n.” He said gratefully. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Probably called Hobi.” You smirked, making him snort.

“Now, you promised me food, and if you lie to me twice in the same day, I’m dumping your ass.” You said, earning another laugh from him.

“Alright, whatever you want, just like I said.” He said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

“Although, if you wanted, I could make up for my false pretenses from earlier in a different way?” He offered, eyes darkening slightly as his hands drifted over your hips

You lightly shoved his hands away. “Not a chance, Loverboy, I’m way too tired now. You’ll have to try and ‘make it up to me’ some other time.”

“How about tomorrow?” He said, eyes twinkling mischievously, looping his arms around your waist instead to keep you close.

“I thought your parents were coming over tomorrow?” You reminded, raising a brow at him.

“You could come over after.” He suggested. “Hell, you could even come to dinner with us, my parents like getting to meet my friends.”

“Friends?” You looked up at him skeptically.

“Yeah, what?” He laughed, squeezing you lightly.

“Do you let your other friends suck your di-?”

“They don’t need to know the details of our relationship!” He said quickly, his face flushing slightly, making you snicker. “You’re still my friend, one of my best friends actually.” He added, in a soft tone.

The way he said it made your heart twist in a weird way, though you didn’t quite understand why.

“So?” He asked, staring down at you hopefully. “Will you come?”

You chewed your lip, considering. It felt like a really big commitment to meet his family, regardless of what your relationship was, but you tell it would mean a lot to him if you said yes.

“I’ll think about it.” You said finally.

He beamed.

“Thank you!” He said, leaning in to kiss you again, his lips lingering longer this time, tracing over yours lightly, making you shiver.

You pressed closer to him, hooking your arms around his neck as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss, letting your tongue delve into his mouth as his hands grip on your waist tightened.

When you pulled back for air, his pupils were blown wide, eyes almost black as he stared down at you, breathing heavily.

“Take your shirt off.” You ordered, your breaths equally unsteady.

“But I thought you said-?”

“I changed my mind.” You cut him off, tugging at the fabric impatiently. “Shirt off, now.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn

[neptuneiris]

cardigan (3/3)

I knew you, leavin' like a father, running like water

pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!

summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.

word count: 8.8k

previous part • next part

After forcing yourself to forget about Aemond, start having every intention of having fun with your friends no matter what and get a few drinks… you did it.

You managed to have fun and have a really good time with your real friends.

Even though you got your heart broken, you felt really bad and had to endure that ugly sharp pain in your chest along with all that sadness, pain, anger and disappointment…. you drank and forgot about everything to focus on the moment.

You even met new people, all friends of Ryan's.

The next day, in Sara's room at the dorm, you didn't even remember their names or almost half of the things that happened at the party.

Until she reminded you herself and showed you videos of everyone together with those people dancing and having a good time.

Then, remembering what had happened before you decided to have fun, you felt that urge to cry again.

Fortunately Sara didn't ask you about him, it was as if she had forgotten about him and you were thankful for that since you didn't have to talk to her about anything.

However, after Sara does you the favor of taking you home, even though the place doesn't really feel like that anymore, nervous, cautious and not really having the energy and courage to face him, you still open the door of the apartment and enter.

But you get the big surprise that he's not even here.

Incredulous, you think to yourself that he must have stayed with his girlfriend again. And you quickly attend to Vhagar and yourself, wanting to occupy your mind so that you don't seriously cry at that moment.

Did he really completely forgot my birthday?

You didn't even need to know, the answer to the question was pretty clear when you got to the apartment since he didn't show up for the rest of the day either.

And you didn't know if you felt grateful for it since you didn't want to see him or it made you feel worse about the fact that he really had completely forgotten you and your special day.

So the best you could do at that moment, was to take a bath, eat a little and then look for a job again around your area.

You want to keep your mind busy, you don't want to think about him, so you don't rest and you don't take your eyes off your phone until you find a job.

Until you finally find a job at a flower shop near the university as the store's receptionist and where the working hours fit your schedule perfectly. They don't ask for experience either.

That day, even though your head hurts and you still haven't recovered one hundred percent from the previous party, you take pills, get some rest and head to the flower shop.

And the next few days, it's back to living alone in the apartment.

Since you completely ignored Aemond's messages that night, neither you nor he have spoken again, not even a phone call.

You no longer ask him if he will come to eat, what special food he wants in case he does, where he is or where he spent the night.

You don't do it anymore because you no longer want to or care.

You also no longer do his laundry, the little he has here really, and now you simply clean up the mess you make and only buy food for yourself.

He probably has to come to the apartment when you are in class and you are grateful for that, even though you feel more broken inside every day that passes and you see again how he completely forgot your birthday.

He doesn't say anything to you, he doesn't even make the slightest effort, he doesn't see you and doesn't seem to have the intention of doing so any time soon.

Does it hurt? Yes, very much.

But you know you are no one to tell him what he can and can't do, who he can and can't be with.

Just as you don't have to remind him that it was your birthday, nor should you tell him that he forgot all about it.

He knows what he is doing, he makes his own decisions, he is no longer a child,… and neither are you.

That's why despite being very upset, sad and broken, really not wanting to you still force yourself to try to communicate with him.

You've got the job and there's a dorm room available at the residence halls, so now you just want to give him the key to the apartment.

Although nothing would be better than just leaving and nothing else, but you know you can't do that.

After all, he helped you a lot financially by offering you your own space here, basically for free.

But yet when you text and call him a few times as you start packing, he doesn't respond.

He responds very late at night only telling you that he's staying the night with Alys. And when you ask him if you can see each other and talk, he doesn't respond anymore.

Until more days go by and you unsuccessfully, feeling really annoyed with him, you tell yourself that enough is enough.

You ask Ryan to help you transport your things to your new home and you definitely break all ties with Aemond by bringing Vhagar with you as well.

With him pretending you no longer exist, as if he didn't have his best friend living with him, or apparently so it was, so now you also do the exact same thing.

You pretend he no longer exists and just walk away.

And now as you settle into your new home, which is not at all like where you used to live before, you still like it and tell yourself that you will get used to it soon.

It has nothing more than the small square space with your bed, your closet and desk, also a small bathroom.

You only have to buy a small refrigerator now while everything else like laundry is already offered by the residence on the first floor.

You know your room will be a small place for Vhagar but she doesn't seem to mind as she settles into your bed and falls asleep once you start unpacking.

Until the weekend comes and your friends make noise in the group chat saying they want to party on Saturday.

And you, thinking you wouldn't be in the mood, agree to go and have some fun.

It's already been a full week Monday through Saturday morning that you started your new job that you couldn't have liked any better. So you want to get all the stress out.

Most of all you want to get the sadness out of your system because of work, your classes and also because of him.

It's also been a full week since you moved, so not wanting anything to do with him anymore, you head to the one person you know will help you with the matter: Helaena.

Helaena also studies at the same university, she also lives in a dorm room, only that she studies biology.

So once you send her a message asking if the two of you can meet, she gladly accepts and you arrange to meet in her room.

And soon enough she finds herself opening her door to greet you.

"Hi Y/N!" she exclaims happily and wraps you in a soft hug, to which you smile.

"Hello Hel."

"Where have you been? I finally see you."

She asks you as she pulls away from you and looks at you a little confused, without erasing her charming smile.

"You know…" You shrug your shoulders, a little nervous, "I've been very busy with my classes."

And even though that's not the real reason, she still believes you.

"Oh yeah, sure, me too, it's a nightmare. Come on in."

She steps aside so you can come in and you do, immediately feeling nervous because you know you'll have to tell her about everything that happened with her brother.

"Even so, you didn't come to the ball."

Helaena says to you suddenly and you watch her as she closes the door behind her.

"I thought it was weird since you always go to my family's ball."

"Yes…" you say a little uncomfortable, "I… I did…

"But it seemed so weird to me that all of a sudden Aemond took his girlfriend when he said that…..

She stops suddenly, then looks at you with her eyes wide open, now softening her confused face, watching you intently.

"Oh, don't tell me," she murmurs.

And all you do is bite your lips and lower your gaze for a moment in sorrow.

"Don't tell me you didn't go because he took his girlfriend."

You let out a long breath and at that moment, taking advantage of the fact that she has already brought up the subject of him and his girlfriend, you decide to tell her everything that happened.

The ball, how you now live alone in his apartment when it wasn't supposed to be like that, his conversation with Alys, his irresponsibility with Vhagar and finally your birthday.

"Oh I'm going to kill that son of a…

"No, Hel, please."

You ask her, not wanting to talk about him anymore.

"It's all done now. I don't want to cause any more…

"You? Cause anything?" she interrupts you, incredulous, "Y/N, you couldn't cause anything, it's all caused by him and his obsession with that girl."

"She's his girlfriend," you say with pain in your chest, "It makes sense."

"Yeah, but you don't put your best friend down for a relationship, Y/N," she says obviously and with an annoyed tone, "And believe me when I tell you that when I met that girl she didn't give me any good vibes. Mother seemed to some point pleased, but Nyra with her look told me everything, so did Aegon and even my uncle Daemon."

"Really?"

You ask her really interested in it, since apparently you were not the only one who felt that way when you met Alys for the first time.

"Yes, really," she assures you, "They all asked about you, Daeron, Jace and Luke too."

You lower your gaze with a sad expression, since you haven't seen Aemond's little brother or his two nephews who have always been very kind and funny with you.

You are also struck by the fact that Aemond did not tell you that his family had been asking about you at the ball.

Maybe he did it so as not to make you feel bad.

"Aemond didn't even answer them, he didn't even seem to know what to say. He just immediately introduced them to his girlfriend," she says with a pout.

You let out a long breath.

"Well, I still get the idea of how much fun everyone had. I saw your pictures and videos on Instagram."

"I just can't believe he told you at the last minute when you already had everything ready that he was taking his girlfriend," she insists, really annoyed, "And yet after making plans the idiot forgot your birthday?" she inquires.

"It doesn't matter anymore, Hel, that was a little more than a week ago," you say not wanting to give more importance to the matter, "In fact, I came here because I wanted to know if you could do me a favor, now that we are talking about it."

Helaena, still annoyed to hear everything you told her, still nods.

"Sure, what is it?"

"I…

You bite your lips, feeling nervous to tell the sister of your best friend, or ex best friend rather, about the new chapter of your life.

Mostly because after this, Aemond will finally know everything soon enough.

"I've gotten a job in a flower shop and I've also moved into a dorm. Don't worry, I have brought Vhagar with me, now I will take care of her."

You assure her the instant you know she would ask you about Vhagar.

"And even though I didn't want to, I had to try to communicate with Aemond, but he never responded and I never saw him around the apartment, so I just left because I couldn't delay any longer. To this day he doesn't even know anything."

Again Helaena's soft, tender face contorts in anger.

"That fucking son of a….

"So…" you interrupt her, taking the things from your backpack, "Here is the key to the apartment and also this envelope with money to pay him for the troubles."

You look at her with a certain sadness and with the hope in your face that she will take care of this after Helaena sees everything in your hands and again returns her gaze to yours.

"Could you hand it over to him, please?"

And now it is Helaena's turn to look at you sadly and with compassion as she looks at your hurt face and understands what you went through and what you are going through now.

"Oh, Y/N…" she says disappointedly, "I'm so sorry for my stupid brother."

And again she pulls you in a soft and comforting hug that you allow since you really need it, even though you avoid breaking down crying at that moment.

You know Helaena probably won't tell him anything, but you still don't want to cry in the arms of your ex-best friend's sister.

"Don't worry, Hel. And nothing that happened with him will affect our friendship either," you assure her in a sad voice.

"No, of course not," she says instantly, hugging you a little tighter.

After a few more moments like that, they both separate and Helaena takes the key and the envelope with the money.

That money was sent to you monthly by your parents and you decided to give it to him. Now with your job at the flower shop, you can get that money back for your needs.

But for now it feels good to give it to Aemond because despite hearing that horrible conversation between him and his girlfriend, you do it mostly to feel better about yourself.

And after talking a few more moments with Helaena, you both finally say goodbye and you walk through her door.

You both agree that one of these days you could go for a coffee together. And just as you are about to leave, Helaena stops you with her words.

Words that leave you completely still, and then you look at her again with a slight surprise on your face.

"I always believed and hoped that you and Aemond would end up together, you know," she says with a sad little smile, "I know you were best friends, but I always had a feeling, always.

At that moment… how you wished her words would have been true.

How you would have wanted that to happen.

You think with illusion, sadness and disappointment, and then just try to smile even a little in her direction, say goodbye one last time and leave.

Later that night, after crying a little and trying to cheer yourself up by getting ready to go to the party with your friends, you arrive at the frat house and the party starts right then and there.

At first, cautious, you are kept alert by the fact that Aemond could probably be here with his girlfriend or with his friends, or maybe both.

But fortunately for you, there is no silver-haired guy with a black haired girl in the crowd, so you can feel at peace.

Immediately the party games like beer pong and drinking begin.

Until at some point of the party, you realize while talking and having fun with Aileen, that again Ryan's friends have joined the group, three guys exactly.

And as you're all dancing together, having a good time, you're drinking and forgetting about everything, really enjoying yourself, you suddenly find yourself dancing and singing the songs at the top of your lungs with one of Ryan's friends, Cregan Stark.

A tall guy, dark brown hair, with black eyes and features that can't go unnoticed.

Cregan seems to have his eye on you and you have yours on him.

Eventually the two start talking, being close, dancing together, even taking pictures and videos of each other, and then the two sit on one of the sofas and continue talking.

The two very close to each other to the point of almost kissing.

Maybe it was the alcohol, the moment, the party or just that you wanted to have this kind of moments with some guy, because Cregan is really handsome and you really wanted to kiss him.

However, all the guys arrived just at that moment to keep you company and rest a bit after having been dancing for a while.

Cregan didn't seem to mind, you didn't really either, you both just smiled at each other, although he had that little disappointment on his face from the interruption.

It remained as that pending between you and that's why he asked for your number.

The next day, apparently that interaction and closeness between you and Cregan was noticed by everyone, but more so by your friends who squeal and excitedly talk about him and you.

You find out that he's a law student, a year older than you, likes dogs, plays the guitar, and apparently isn't dating anyone.

You didn't want to get your hopes up with him, because you knew that meeting a guy and him suddenly having an interest in you at a party is usually not a long-term interest and is just for the moment.

But the expectation went up the moment he texts you and asks you if you want to have coffee with him on Tuesday morning before you both have your respective classes.

And you respond, or well, your friends respond more excitedly than you, that you accept.

"Girl, the guy is handsome, tall, funny and a really nice guy, what more could you ask for?"

And in that, Aileen is right. However… there is a problem. And that problem has a name: Aemond.

Aemond has ruined every guy for you in many ways, both physically and personality-wise.

And even though he wasn't like that, he really was a very bad friend to you and all his decisions hurt you. That's why agreeing to date Cregan is easy.

You also tell yourself that Aemond doesn't matter anymore. He has a girlfriend, he's living his life apart, and so are you, and you and he are no longer friends.

So once Cregan tells you that he is already waiting for you outside your dorm, you rush out.

Excitedly you take one last look in your mirror, make sure nothing is out of place, also make sure Vhagar is okay and head for the door to leave with your backpack on your shoulder and your phone in hand.

But when you opened the door, you clearly didn't expect to see your ex-best friend about to knock on your door with a totally bewildered, confused, worried and to some extent distressed and desperate look on his face.

"Y/N...

And you are totally paralyzed the moment your name leaves his lips.

At first, you don't understand what he is doing here or how he knew exactly where you were now since you didn't tell Helaena anything about your new home.

In fact, you didn't say anything to anyone he and you know together. However, you do know him.

You know that he just by asking anyone he can find out anything he wants to know, including finding people, simply because he is Aemond Targaryen.

And then you start to panic and you feel very nervous because he's really here.

"W-what are you doing here?" you ask him in a bewildered whisper.

In an instant you tense up and hold tightly to the edge of your door, watching him intently and alertly.

"What am I doing here?" he asks in a totally bewildered voice, "What are you doing here?" he says, now certainly annoyed.

"I-I don't… I don't have time for this, okay?"

You try to walk past him, bearing in mind that Cregan is waiting for you outside and you don't want to keep him waiting any longer.

But you can't stop your heart from beating too fast and you can't stop this agonizing feeling in your gut at the sight of him now after so many weeks.

"Are you serious?"

He stops you by taking your arm in a firm grip, making you stand in front of him again, with the most bewildered, confused and annoyed look you've ever seen on his face.

"I come home calling you, wanting to talk to you, having this stupid idea that you were busy or something, only to find out that Vhagar isn't there, neither are you and neither are your things," he says to you incredulously, "I thought something bad had happened to you Y/N, I was so worried. I started to go crazy because I couldn't even call you or send you messages, nothing was getting through to you."

And at that moment, everything you were feeling, is replaced by hatred and anger for very clear reasons and that he, seeming surprising to you, doesn't see or even realize.

He probably wanted to talk to you about your birthday, but he couldn't call or text you because since you moved out and he had no idea, you decided to block him from everywhere.

But really, even though you feel weak from his unexpected appearance, his words don't make you feel anything but hurt and angry.

"And do you have any fucking idea how it made me feel when I called Helaena and she told me you got a job and moved into a fucking dorm just making everything worse?" he asks you annoyed, "All this without me having a fucking idea, Y/N."

The way he tells you everything, you immediately tell yourself that you won't react the same way even though all that flows through your system is one thing: anger.

So instead of talking to him in annoyance because you don't want to and don't have the time to explain yourself more than necessary, you talk to him calmly in comparison to him.

He is visibly frustrated and looks more bewildered than ever.

"Maybe you would have known… if you had answered my calls or messages, Aemond. Or if you had shown up even once at your apartment."

And you overemphasize your apartment.

"All that was over a week ago, much longer in fact, and you barely care to know about me or Vhagar," you say bitterly.

He shakes his head, looking more distressed and worried than before.

"I-I…" He lets out a long breath, "And what the fuck is this supposed to mean?"

He asks you again in annoyance, clearly after he has no idea what to say to the previous and from his jacket pocket he takes out the money you gave to Helaena for him and also the key to his apartment.

"For your troubles?" he raises the money in annoyance, "And the key for what? Are you really going to stay here definitely?"

"The money is because I didn't give you a single penny to help you financially and the key so you have more privacy with Alys every time you get home and I don't have to be there locked up in my room… stopping you," you explain without much interest, "That's what you wanted, isn't it?" you raise your eyebrows expectantly at him.

But he is speechless, staring at you in surprise, bewilderment and anguish, his whole worried expression speaking for itself.

"Did you…" he pauses in concern, "Did you hear us that night?"

You deliberately ignore his question.

"You wanted me to meet new people and go out more, also give you your privacy…well, I'm doing exactly that. Now leave and don't ever come back."

And without further ado you close the door behind you firmly and walk away from him to head for the stairs and finally leave to meet Cregan.

But because of the circumstances and everything Aemond must be feeling, he doesn't let you go so easily.

"Hey, no, stop," he says in a warning tone and then grabs your arm and immobilizes you as you turn towards him.

"Let go of me."

"Y/N…

"I have to go. Someone is waiting for me."

"Y/N, please…" he calls pleadingly, "You don't have to lie, I-I…" he runs a hand over his frustrated and anguished face, "Was all this for your birthday?"

At his question, you say nothing, just continue to stare at him with the most serious look ever, now just pressing your lips together and waiting for him to let go so you can leave.

"Y/N…" he calls you cautiously and with worry in his eyes, "I know I fucked up, I know that….

"Oh please, Aemond," you exclaim irritated, "I don't need any more of your pity, okay? I really don't care what you have to say, it's all done. I gave you the key back and the money too, didn't I? Now you won't have to pity me anymore and your girlfriend will be pleased to know that I won't interfere with your plans anymore."

He lets out a long breath, more frustrated than before and completely irritated by your words.

"It doesn't matter what you heard that night, Y/N. It doesn't matter what Alys said either," he tells you in desperation.

But you don't care anymore.

"I've done my part, now leave me alone."

Again you try to leave but he again won't let you go.

"Will you stop running away!? I want to talk to you, I want to fix this!" he says in exasperation, "I don't want your key and I certainly don't want your fucking money, I want you back with me!"

And that's when you can't take it any longer and you finally explode in anger at him.

"Now you want me to be with you after always leaving me out of all the plans we made for your girlfriend and leaving me living alone!? Do you really think I even want to see you and be in the same place as you after everything you done!?"

He is about to answer you, but a third voice between you stops him and also the whole discussion between the two of you.

"Y/N?"

Both you and Aemond turn your heads and from the stairs Cregan Stark looks curiously between you and Aemond, almost worried.

You know your screams must have been heard all the way to the first floor considering your room is on the second.

"Is everything all right here?" he asks you softly and attentively, turning to you.

Feeling embarrassed that he might have heard everything, which is most likely, you finally loosen your grip on Aemond and control yourself by telling yourself that it's all over now.

"Yes, everything is fine," you put on your best face, or try to, "Sorry, I was on my way out. I didn't want to keep you waiting too long."

"No, it's fine," he says nonchalantly, "Although I did come to hurry you a little," he confesses with a small, embarrassed smile, "At the coffee shop we're going to, the coffee you like is on promotion, but only until ten o'clock, so I want to get there to buy it for you."

In other circumstances, Cregan's words would have made you feel on the clouds, but because of what was happening before and with Aemond present, his words have no effect on you.

Especially because of Aemond's confused and intimidating look at Cregan, clearly annoyed by the interruption, as well as wanting to know who this guy is and realizing that you really had someone waiting for you.

"Yeah, yeah, let's go," you nod in his direction, "He was just leaving too."

You say with a certain bitter and obvious tone turning your head towards Aemond, but without looking at him to which you immediately feel his gaze on you, but you ignore him.

And not wanting to keep Cregan waiting any longer, you head towards him, take him by the arm and lead him along with you towards the stairs, leaving Aemond behind.

After you and Cregan start heading towards the coffe shop, you try to pay attention to everything he tells you, but you can't.

You pretend to listen to him and collaborate a little in his conversation, feeling bad about yourself but you can't help it since all you can think about is Aemond.

And even though Cregan tries to bring up the subject, clearly because it's obvious he heard you were arguing, you quickly evade him.

However, he tells you that he believes he has seen Aemond before and has heard a lot about him. Also of his sister, Helaena.

But overall, this going out or rather date? with Cregan… did not turn out as you expected and as you wanted it to because of Aemond's unexpected visit to your new home.

And once again, you find yourself out of balance because of what happened with him now.

Latch by Disclosure and Sam Smith is heard throughout the house of the most popular party frat house and the one that never disappoints.

At first, you thought about not partying with your friends and Cregan since you weren't in the mood and didn't want to have to deal with a hangover the next day.

However, Cregan is the one who convinces you and now the two of you are dancing along with all your other friends having a good time, singing at the top of your lungs and forgetting about everything.

The whole party is going amazing, you're still not drinking too much, you're having fun with your friends and Cregan most of all.

Until you are catching your breath to continue dancing with Cregan, both of you apart and talking, suddenly your gaze is focused on the entrance of the house and Aemond Targaryen makes an appearance holding Alys' hand with all his friends also entering behind him.

Instantly you want to leave, because you know you don't feel comfortable now with the presence of your ex best friend knowing what happened the last time you saw each other.

And even more so when he notices you standing apart, with that guy from before, the two of you very close and talking, now realizing your presence.

But you pretend not to see him even though your heart starts beating fast when you feel his gaze.

When you stop feeling that he is looking at you, then you see him and still holding hands with Alys both of them go to the kitchen. And that's when you say to yourself: no.

He is not going to ruin this party with your friends. He came here for the sole purpose of having fun, which is the point of the party and so are you.

You decide to leave the feelings behind and continue having fun as before.

You drink some more, resume dancing, singing and playing party games, just forget about him and focus on you, what you are doing and the people around you.

When in the kitchen, while you are pouring more drinks for Cregan and yourself, something happens that you least expected and that causes you a lot of confusion at the same time.

However, somehow you must have known that Aemond would be coming for you.

"Y/N."

He calls out to you and when you look at him, you again meet his gaze a little worried but also hopeful that he might talk to you.

But of course, Alys must be by his side clinging to his right arm, watching you with a certain indifference.

And you, preferring a thousand times to ignore it, unfortunately still do not finish preparing the drinks, so you decide to act indifferent.

"Yes?" you say without even looking at him.

And just with your indifference, which Aemond notices perfectly, only makes him more frustrated, but not wanting to explode again against you, he can only try to relax and start with what he wants to say as calmly as possible so as not to push you away.

"Are you…" he swallows hard, looking at you apologetically and a bit nervously, "Are you enjoying the party?"

However, his question couldn't have been more pathetic for you.

"Yes, very much in fact."

You answer without further ado, putting everything back in its place to finally get out of the way and leave. And that's what you do, you turn around with your drinks in hand and walk away.

But he stops you instantly by standing in front of you.

"Y/N," he calls out to you pleadingly, "Can we go outside and talk, please?"

And you, wanting to take your indifference further, even more with Alys' presence, that's exactly what you do.

"About what?"

"About the other day," he tells you more cautious and attentive than before.

And you frown at him.

"Was there anything else to say?"

He lets out a long sigh.

"Y/N, please…

"There you are!"

Again Cregan's voice interrupts the conversation between the two of you and Cregan, without even noticing Aemond, turns to you with a small smile on his lips.

"I went to the bathroom for two seconds and I had already lost you," he says amused, "You need help?"

He points to the drinks and you nod.

"Yes," you extend one to him, placing a soft smile in his direction, "This one's yours, actually.

"Thank you, my pretty."

And maybe it had been again the interruption of the same boy from the other day, that makes Aemond can't help but feel annoyed.

But maybe it's more from the fact that he tenses up and watches him with a clenched jaw as he hears that word from him towards you.

Pretty.

Both he and you think, but you really couldn't care less as you watch between Cregan and him over the nickname.

And feeling Aemond's burning gaze, Cregan finally seems to notice the presence of Aemond Targaryen himself.

"Oh, hey," he smiles friendly, "Sorry, we've met before, haven't we?"

And Aemond, really annoyed, just bites the inside of his cheek and avoids showing his irritation, as well as the discontent he feels towards the guy.

"Yes," he says without looking at him, with a cutting tone, focusing again on you.

"Yes, sorry again," Cregan tells him again, "It's just that we weren't introduced."

And after Cregan says that, you're sorry but you want to murder him.

Especially since now Cregan is watching you too, already having the smoldering stare of your ex best at you and the guy you're apparently starting to have… something with.

Not to mention the judgmental and irritated look from Alys as well.

And you, having no choice, introduce them to each other.

"Aemond, this is Cregan, my friend," you point to Cregan, "And Cregan, this is Aemond, an old classmate at high school."

And finally you point to Aemond, without looking at him too much.

And again, everything in Aemond contracts and his whole bewildered look is reflected on his face after hearing your words.

Even Alys stirs in her place, watching Aemond intently.

A strange feeling in his chest invades him and all his disappointment, as well as his sadness, is reflected even though he tries not to be.

But the way you said it, your look, your attitude, everything about you makes him feel miserable and makes him recognize that he has definitely lost you.

Especially because after that, you don't waste any more time, you take Cregan by the hand and excuse both of you to go back to your friends, not wanting to be around him anymore.

After the party goes on, Aemond can't enjoy the moment. Even Alys next to him doesn't get his attention, neither do his friends.

All he sees is you, with him, the two of you dancing, laughing and close to each other.

He's certainly never seen you having fun like that before, never in the company of a guy he admits he recognizes; he seems like a really nice guy.

An unpleasant feeling turns his stomach and he feels it in his chest again when you laugh at something he has said, he slips an arm around your shoulders and leaves a kiss on your cheek.

His jaw tenses and he can't take his eye off of you, to some extent starting to annoy Alys by his lack of attention.

And Aemond loses it completely the moment he turns his face towards you, you turn your face towards him and the two of you kiss.

All the friendship that the two of you and Aemond used to have, you and Aemond, passes right in front of him in that moment.

Everything, from the beginning, from high school to college, with both of you moving into the apartment, having movie nights, having breakfast and dinner together, grocery shopping, everything.

As well as all the bad stuff caused by him, which he admits to, like all those nights he left you behind for Alys, the ball and your birthday.

Unable to take it anymore, totally ignoring Alys and everyone, with the hardest look on his face, he leaves the house in an act of desperation and

He moves away from all the people, from Alys, from you, because he can't see you having fun without him, he can't see you with other people, because it was always him.

And knowing that he was the one who caused your friendship to end, he takes a seat on the stairs leading to the house and starts smoking.

But even he doesn't understand himself.

Isn't this what you wanted?

His mind asks him, as confused as he is, who with a bad face and feeling like a complete idiot, continues smoking, thinking that it would be better to go back home.

But without you… it doesn't feel like that anymore.

He stays thinking for a long time, without Alys bothering to look for him, which he is grateful for since he has more time with himself.

While you, still at the party, continue drinking and sharing a kiss or two with Cregan, not really caring that you're among friends and other people.

But the moment with Cregan ends when he tells you that he has to leave, even showing you some messages from his sister asking him to pick her up at a party outside the university.

He asks you if you want him to leave you too, but you prefer to continue having fun for a while longer. You both say goodbye and stay with your friends.

Not long after, however, they all get really drunk. Even Ryan.

So as the four of you leave the house, ordering Uber's and laughing amongst yourselves, that's when Aemond sees you.

Confused, he throws the rest of his cigarette away and stands up from the stairs, watching you intently. And noticing your condition, he actually gets worried.

You can't even stand firmly on your feet.

And all you remember is having a brief conversation or discussion with someone, that someone also talking to Ryan, then you feel yourself being carried, you protest a little, and then all goes dark.

The moment you open your eyes, completely numb and feeling like a mess, the pain in your throat, body and head begins.

You groan under your breath, scrunching up your face and holding a hand to your forehead, feeling as if your head is about to explode in constant sharp pain.

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes and trying to calm yourself down so you can get through the pain easier, but it's impossible.

You drank too much, that's for sure, your body is confirming it. But what you don't know is where you are.

Alarmed, you quickly reopen your eyes and look around you, worrying because you don't remember who you left with last night and whether you came to your room or someone else's.

When your whole face contorts in confusion as you realize that this room is not yours, nor is it Sara's or Aileen's room. In fact, this room you know and you know it very well.

You open your eyes wide and don't understand anything, beginning to get seriously alarmed and worried.

What the fuck am I doing in Aemond's room?

You think to yourself as you force yourself to ignore all the internal pain you are feeling and get out of bed.

You quickly put on your shoes, make sure you have all your things with you and leave the room, hoping he's not here.

But of course he must be, because as you walk out into the hallway, with your things held against your chest, you hear sounds and very low music coming from the kitchen.

And as you slowly, cautiously approach, you see him, preparing breakfast, moving back and forth across the kitchen with his back to you.

Hopeful, you watch the door ahead a few feet away from you, then look cautiously again at Aemond, who fortunately has not noticed your presence.

You think to yourself that you could head for the door without making a sound and leave without him noticing. Being here with him in your old home doesn't please you, especially since you don't understand how you got here last night with him.

But you don't care, all you want to do is leave.

However, before you can try to do anything, he turns to grab something from the counter and sees you.

"Oh, you're awake," he says with a soft tone and a calm look.

At this, you don't say anything, you just watch him, hoping that by your look and your posture he understands that you already want to leave.

But he, at your lack of words, continues trying.

"You must be feeling very bad, you were very drunk last night. Here I have left you a glass of water and a pill, it will help you after you finish breakfast," he points to the bar, effectively pointing to a glass of water and a pill."

You look away from him for a second, wanting to let out a snort, since you definitely don't plan to stay here for breakfast and it's silly of him to think so just because you're here.

"What am I doing here?" you ask him, serious.

And by your tone of voice, Aemond is surprised and also disappointed, since he thought that things between you and him would never be like this again.

But how wrong he was.

Still, with relaxed posture and soft tone, he answers you to keep the peace as much as possible between the two of you and you don't leave, which is what he fears the most.

"You were very drunk last night, and so were all your friends," he explains.

"Ryan was supposed to take me and my friends to my doorm," you tell him seriously.

"Your friend was really drunk too, Y/N," he says in a more serious tone, "He couldn't handle the three of you. And I certainly wasn't going to let you go in that state, you could barely walk.

You press your lips together, thinking about the party and your friends, to again look at the door in front of you.

"Well… thank you, but I didn't need your help," you say curtly, "Not now either."

And without further ado you head for the door, catching Aemond unawares, who quickly reacts and stands in front of you, grabbing your arm.

"Y/N, please wait…

"I need to go.

"Where to?" he asks frustrated, not believing you.

"That doesn't concern you. I don't want to be here," you tell him annoyed, again trying to pass by his side, but he doesn't let you.

"Please," he repeats pleadingly, "Please don't do this anymore. Just stay."

"Let me go and let me pass," you warn him.

"At least just stay for breakfast," he insists desperately, "Let's talk and then I will take you to your dorm, I pro….

"Will you stop!?"

You explode furiously at him, unable to hold back any longer, feeling more headache and pain all over your body, but you don't care because you're tired, you're fed up and because you've had enough.

While he remains completely silent and observes you slightly surprised by your reaction, since he had certainly never seen you like this before.

At least not with him.

"I don't want to be here, I don't want to have breakfast with you, I don't want to talk to you and I don't want to see you!" you exclaim annoyed, "Can't you really see that? Can't you see that you and I are no longer friends? Can't you see that you're hurting me?"

"Y/N…" he says to you in a low tone, with a thread of voice: "Don't say that...

"You shouldn't have brought me here, you shouldn't have even tried to talk to me, because I don't want to talk to you, I want to get away from you and I want you to respect that!"

And without being able to stand it anymore, tears start to run down your cheeks, but you ignore it totally and continue watching Aemond with the most hurt look of all.

"Stop trying to play savior with me Aemond, because I've had enough."

"Playing savior with you?" he repeats in bewilderment, "Y/N, you are my best friend, I don't….

"No, that's not true, I'm not your best friend, I'm nothing!" you blurt out again furious, "A best friend doesn't hurt his best friend, doesn't leave her aside for a relationship, doesn't replace her, doesn't leave her living alone and certainly doesn't forget her fucking birthday, Aemond!"

Then again Aemond is speechless, watching you with his eye wide open, his lips half open, while you start crying in earnest, unable to control yourself.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he says to you, in a low, broken-toned whisper.

"No, you're not!" you reproach him, upset, crying, feeling broken, "If you were really sorry, you would have apologized since after my birthday, not until now that weeks have passed," you tell him hurt, "And that hurts, Aemond, it hurts that until now you have realized it, that until now you are looking for me, always treating me as the second option!"

The first tear falls down Aemond's right cheek, looking at you with a hard, but still broken expression.

"I'm so sorry, I really am. I care about you, you know that….

"No, that's not true, you don't, you don't care about me!" you contradict him again, crying.

And finally you are able to pass by his side, leaving him in a state just as broken as you are, while you wipe your tears and try to control yourself, when you can't. You still want much, much more.

There is still much, much more you want to say and you say it as you stop before you touch the door and stare at Aemond with as much sadness, hatred and anger as you can.

"You left me aside for Alys, you included her and took me out of our plans, you left me living alone here with Vhagar, you forgot my fucking bir…

You stop, sobbing and breathing hard, trying to calm yourself down.

"You forgot my fucking birthday for her and her parents while I was waiting for you, believing your stupid promises so that in the end you never showed up and only to remember me weeks later and a real friend doesn't do shit like that to his best friend if he really cared, Aemond!" you tell him crying, "I never was that way with you and believe me that having a boyfriend even so I wouldn't have been."

Then everything, both for him and for you stops, because hearing you crying and seeing you so broken, leaves him completely immobile and as broken as you are by your words.

Words and feelings of yours that he had no idea about.

While you, unable to take it anymore, finally open the apartment door and leave, wanting to get away from here and him, because that's what you want and…. he lets you.

He doesn't go after you, like he would have, because your words, everything about you, has left him completely paralyzed. He had never seen you like that, so destroyed and in tears.

And that he was responsible for those reactions of yours, reactions that he hates to see in you, makes him feel more stupid and guilty than ever.

And at that moment he realizes, that this time he has definitely lost you and in a very bad way. He has lost his best friend because of his own actions.

He feels miserable. More miserable than you.

And after that… nothing was ever the same again, both for him and for you.

You didn't see each other again after what happened in his apartment, you didn't even hear from each other through social media, because you had blocked him from everywhere and that's just felt better.

The two of you continued with your classes and in separate ways, as before, only now he was also aware of it and not only you, now with the difference that the friendship between the two of you no longer exists.

To a certain point you knew that he was still having a relationship with Alys Rivers, while you, you had to realize that starting something with Cregan, something more formal, would not be possible, at least not on your part.

You are still so in love with your best friend and so hurt that you didn't want to start something with Cregan knowing that you didn't feel anything beyond that for him. You didn't want him to be your distraction, because it wasn't right.

Your distraction was something else, something you still don't know what it is but you desperately need. Until two weeks after what happened with Aemond, that distraction showed up.

At the end of another semester of your career, an exchange program was opened for the next semester with destinations to Winterfell, the Iron Islands, Casterly Rock, Highgarden and Dorne.

There were also destinations to Essos, but you decided it would be best to go to Highgarden since with your excellent academic record, you entered the program with all expenses paid.

At the same time that you would go to classes, you would also have your internship with one of the best psychologists by being his assistant and start training yourself with his cases. You would even get paid for it.

The semester lasts six months, six months away from Kings Landing, that being exactly what you need.

So after going through all the necessary processes, you were finally given a departure date to Highgarden to begin a brief but important chapter in your life.

You gave the news to your parents, who were happy for you, wished you much success, and even let Helaena know who texted you to ask how you were doing. You never tried to talk to him.

And after the day arrives, happy and at ease with yourself, you board the plane taking Vhagar with you and hope that this will help you put it all behind you.

While still at Kings Landing University, in one of the coffee shops on campus, Helaena and Aemond Targaryen enjoy a good coffee, both serious, not talking much, just him and Helaena lost in their thoughts.

Helaena let him know the news and honestly, he doesn't know how to feel.

He is happy for you, but knowing that you are gone and will be back in up to six months, with no more friendship between the two of you, makes him feel even more miserable.

"She's in love with you, you know?"

The sweet voice of his sweet sister makes Aemond, in a fatal state, as if he hadn't slept well for days, raise his gaze towards her without really having much expression.

As Helaena shows him with her gaze how terribly honest she is being with him at that moment.

"She didn't tell me anything, but I just know," she explains.

And Aemond again lowers his gaze, running a hand over his chin, letting out a long breath.

"You really fucked up, Aemond. I can't believe you were such an idiot."

"I know," he says in a low, emotionless whisper, "You don't have to say it again, I know."

"So what then?" she says, "Get that brilliant brain of yours working. You can't be the smartest guy in your class and at the same time the biggest idiot with the girl who has always been there for you."

He shakes his head, only feeling worse just talking about you.

"Hel, I don't want to…

"Are you really going to let her go?"

His sister interrupts him with a look more expectant than ever, watching him attentively, while he swallows hard and observes with a serious and sad look Helaena in front of him.

And he doesn't answer because he doesn't want to, but because he doesn't have an answer to that question, mostly because he hadn't thought about it before.

Will I really let her go?

He asks himself, but the truth is… he doesn't know.

Aemond knows it's already too late but he also feels that that's not entirely true. Maybe, just maybe… he has another chance. And his last.

thank you very much for reading and for joining me in this short way, it makes me so happy that you liked cardigan very much, there are more stories for you on the way, wait for them:)

besides, there's still the epilogue, that's when we'll say goodbye to this story for good🥺❣

@letmeloveyouuuu @ohdemimonde @carriellie @jennifer0305 @serving-targaryen-realness @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @ttkttt @melllinaa @nyenye @hoziersfairy @introverbatim @happinessinthebeing @hnslchw @padfooteyes @riseandreigns4u @shessthunderstoms @strangersunghoon @aemondslefteyeball @1950schick @ammo23 @targaryenmoony

there were many of you that I could not add to the taglist, an apology.

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

Vendetta! Leon x a younger reader who dresses up for him? Like just hard porn of reader in a little maid dress for him… and him fucking her so hard while she’s in it.. idk.. man Leon just deserves a pretty partner who dresses up let’s him fuck her whenever or however he pleases…. His little baby… his stress toy.. his whore.. omfg 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣

EVERYONE SHUT UP RN I NEED. First request post of the night hehe. It’s NOT proof read so any mistakes just pretend they’re not there ok babies

DISCLAIMER: This blog is strictly 18+! Please do not interact if you are underaged or don’t have age indicators anywhere in your blog! tysm

It’s very short but it’s just a little blurb!! hope you guys don’t mind that ofc i have tons of stuff in my inbox rn </3

afab reader x older! vendetta Leon

Vacation. Leon simply just wanted some time off. He felt so bad that everytime he came home you were so excited to see him, rambling on to him about how you made him dinner, and you folded all his clothes for him. His heart aching as he put his hand up as a signal for you to stop talking as he popped the pain medication in his mouth, washing it down with the lemonade you had made him. His eyebrows frowned as he looked up, noticing how clean the house was, how you even put his jacket up for him as soon as he got home. He felt so guilty, knowing that even on top of doing college, you did all of this for him every single day.

His hand grabbed at the railing of the stairs as he walked up the steps, noticing the light from door shut off. Fuck, you were going to bed. Right when he reached for the door, it swung open.

Knowing Leon had been so stressed, you’ve been doing everything to make him feel better and nothing was working. His tension built up more everyday, even his kisses were rougher. You scrolled online for hours before finally finding it. The perfect little maid outfit you knew would push Leon so blissfully over the edge. Leon’s eyes scanned every inch of your body. The way it was skimpy but not overly skimpy, your thick thighs pressing against each other, the pretty apron resting so beautifully on your waist.

“For me?”

Leon’s words came out so seductively and it shot straight to your core, your shy side drowning you as you nodded your head up to him, your fingers playing with the lace of the outfit. Leon’s head shook as his hands reached out, smoothing over the softness of your chest.

“So pretty.”

He mumbled as he pushed you into the room, almost stumbling but he caught you so fast by the hips. His touch was rough, only to your skin though. He wanted to ruin you, all his anger was now surfacing but to his cock, himself sighing as he licked his lips as he pushed you face down into the bed. Your back arched up into him, your ass pressing so perfectly against his strained cock suffocating in his jeans. You knew him so well, your body pushing back into him, your skirt lifting revealing the plain white panties under, a small wet patch forming on the outside. Leon loved the simple things. His hand stopped your grinding, a yelp leaving your lips as he tore at the panties. He tossed them somewhere but didn’t care knowing he would buy you brand new ones later.

“Wanted you to take your time and enjoy..”

Your pretty glossed lips pouted back at him as he picked you up, throwing you further into the bed. His eyes rolled as his hand reached down, lifting your hips in the air. The sound of his belt unbuckling made your fingers grab at the sheets in excitement, but before you could even look back at him again his cock was so deep in you, your walls struggling to shape around him. A broken cry left your lips as you tried to pull your hips away from him but he grabbed at your waist, pulling you up so your back was flush against his still clothed chest. Your head shook as he began to push in and out of you. No matter how many times Leon fucks you, his cock will always just be to big.

“Leon please- ‘s to much”

You whimpered out as your smaller hands scratched at his arm. He was so big compared to you, it was scary how easily he could overpower you. Leon smirked against the shell of your ear as his hands ran over the lacey material of the dress.

“Cmon’ be a good little girl, let me use my pussy.”

Leon whispered in your ear before his palms pushed you down back onto your stomach, his hands holding at your hips as he drilled into you. The room filled with the sounds of his low growls and groans, and the smacking of his pelvis hitting your ass. His body leaned over yours, kissing the back of your neck as his thrusts went from fast and harsh to slow, and overly deep. With every stroke small whimpers left your lips as he kissed at your shoulders.

“That’s my fucking girl.. Always here for me huh? With this tight little- mm fuck.. so fucking good for me.”

Your whines and moans stopped, making a laugh leave Leon’s throat as his hips stuttered. He reached down pulling your hair away from your face to watch as you chewed at your puffy lower lip, your body already riding through its second orgasm. His grip got tighter on your hips as he plunged himself further into you, a whimpered moan leaving his lips as strings of his cum shot into you, your face twisting in blissful discomfort. Leon sat on his knees, his hand running over the back of your thighs smirking as he watched his cum make its way out of you, his fingers shoving it back into you before he carefully flipped you on your back.

A sigh of content left his lips as he laid his head against your chest, your fingers plunging into his hair as he took in your scent, listening to your heart beat.

“Wanna talk about it?”

You whispered down to him as he shook his head in response.

“Maybe tomorrow angel, let me relax.”

He mumbled, kissing your skin as his eyes closed.