#i was so back and forth between keeping the library part or not

[emhasthoughts]

So we meet again

Before you read: Check @dcartcorner's Elsewhere AU as this is taking place around the first bit of bundle 17. This has only been proof-read by me with the help of the documents corrections. So sorry for any potential error in grammar or spelling.

Summary: His parents' refusal to leave had also been a cause of why he never visited the train station. Most of the time the train would simply go past the station and town, letting the people inside see part of it for a moment while kids would sometimes gather close to a fence or the station to watch it pass. This day was different.

The town Michael Crew lived in did not get a lot of visits. Sure, people would move in occasionally, retired couples or families that were simply too tired of the bigger cities and wanted something smaller. There had been moments when Mike was younger when he wanted to move to somewhere bigger. He had asked his dad once. ”There’s pollution out there. You won’t be able to see the stars. I thought you liked the stars?” Had been the response. By now Mike knew there was more than just stars keeping them from moving. Family, friends, traditions and memories. Memories had been a reason Mike once begged for them to move. For nearly an entire week after being struck by lightning. He had cried and begged to move, to never face Dominic again, to never see the field again, to never see the faces of those who knew what happened to that poor little eight year old. In the end it did not work. 

His parents' refusal to leave had also been a cause of why he never visited the train station. Most of the time the train would simply go past the station and town, letting the people inside see part of it for a moment while kids would sometimes gather close to a fence or the station to watch it pass. This day was different. 

It was a rather cold autumn afternoon. Mike stood alone on the platform, watching the sky go from blue to pink as he waited for the train. Wishing for the train to arrive quicker with each passing minute as his hands started to feel like ice. Eventually it did arrive. Letting one single person out before continuing its way to the next town. 

The man was pretty much the opposite of Mike. Taller, not like it was much of a surprise, most of the other students in his class were taller than him by now. Hair black and tied into a bun, dressed pretty much only in black, tie, jacket, vest, shoes - did his trousers have a hole by the knee? The only exception was he white shirt and brown messenger bag. 

”Hello." Gerard looked him up and down for a quick moment. "You haven’t changed much Michael.” 

”Mike. As I’ve told you the last times we’ve spoken.” Gerard just hummed. 

”Right, right.” He got out a pack of cigarettes, looking around for a moment. ”This had best be important, kid.” He continued. Putting one into his mouth. For a moment Mike considered making a comment about it, how it was bad for people around him having to breath in the smoke, not to mention the smell. But he held back. Not like they were in a crowd and Mike had gotten used to the smell thanks to his friend.

”I’m not a kid.” Gerard raised an eyebrow. 

”What? You’re 18 yet?”

”Well… no-”

”There you have it, kid.” Alright, Gerard was really getting on his nerves now. He watched as Gerard lit his cigarette. 

”Fine.” He sighed. ”Can we please just leave? I’m getting cold.”

”Sure, lead the way.”

Mike was regretting taking Gerard to the library. He was quite fond of the place. A perfect place to hide if things ever got too overwhelming. He also preferred Martin Blackwood over the rest of the staff. Sadly said man was being threatened by Gerard. Mike just hoped he would be allowed back.

[rueclfer]

everything is embarrassing // izuku midoriya

when he doesn't know how to take control of his life

a/n: 6k+ words lmao i feel crazzzzzy ok bye

19-year-old izuku doesn't have the privilege of hopping around college parties on the weekends or enjoy the “college experience” like his friends do.

he can barely catch a break to breathe.

monday through friday he's in classes from 8:00am to 4:00pm, and for more than half of the week from 6:00pm to 12:00am, he's working at the campus library- simultaneously shelving returns, organizing files, and scrambling to finish his homework. on the weekends, he'll be at his part time job at the local cafe just down the street from his dorm building.

it hasn't been an easy semester for izuku. he's a year behind his friends and he wants nothing more than to be able to walk across that stage with them by the end of their fourth year, but nothing comes easy when you’ve been out of school for a year, no money, have a scholarship on the line, and a single mother at home to make proud.

he's watching the time go by. his eyes darting back and forth between the ticking needle on the analog clock and you sitting at your usual table with your headphones on, attention glued to your textbook, and the tapping of your pencil growing louder by the second.

occasionally, he'd let himself clock out and lock up about 5-10 minutes early if there was no one lingering around on his floor, and all of the day's work had been completed. no one stays as late in the library as you do. it annoys him. 

5-10 minutes is crucial to izuku.

he could get a head-start on his commute back to his dorm. if he walks quickly enough, he'd be back before 12:15am, be ready for bed by 12:35am, and he'd be able to get at least 6 hours of sleep.

if he's lucky.

but you. you were always there until the very last minute- sometimes even past closing.

it's 12:05am. how could anyone be so careless to not keep an eye on the time? can’t you see that it’s only you two left on this floor? did you not hear the 10 minute closing warning on the intercom?

if he wasn't running on a couple hour of sleep, a poor excuse for dinner, and 6 hours worth of brain numbing work, he wouldn't have the nerves to approach you so casually. he'd be replaying what he wanted to say in his head, stumbling over his words, and hope you wouldn't take offense to it.

"the library's closed." he bluntly says, still maintaining a few feet of distance.

you don't hear him or notice his presence at all. you're lost in that textbook and your mind is fumbling through these terms and definitions staring back at you.

izuku blinks once. then twice.

"hey." he starts again, taking a step closer and setting a hand down on the table right above your textbook.

you look up and catch the library worker’s tired eyes. your gaze immediately flickers to the analog clock hung on the wall past his shoulder.

12:12am

“oh shit!” you exclaim, ripping off your headphones. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, i lost track of time.”

you slam your textbook shut, rubbing your eyes against the back of your hand. how long had you been at it like this? studying the hours away in your own corner of the library?

“yeah.” izuku breathily chuckles, a sense of relief washing over him as he watches you haphazardly shove your books and papers in your bag. “sorry, i hate to interrupt a good study session, but i’m kinda tired, and if i stay here for another minute, the shelves might start talking to me.”

“god, don’t be sorry. i get it.” you laugh, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “i’m here, like, everyday. i’m sure everyone who works here is sick of me by now.”.

“yeah, me too.” he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as you two make your way towards the exit. “here everyday, that is.” he quips, nervously running a hand through his tousled hair.

“look at us, so scholarly.” your voice dripping in sarcasm. you turn your head over your shoulder to meet his eye. “paying so much money for this university to drain us of all joy in life.”

“well, i’m on a scholarship.” izuku mutters. “so i guess i still have some joy left?

“yeah? well that’s actually even worse.” 

“is it?” he cocks an eyebrow.

“you have much more to lose.”

-

the next time you two see each other, he’s knelt over an open filing cabinet, digging through dividers for some sort of paperwork. 

since that night you’ve met, university life has felt a bit less lonely- something about taking a 20 minute walk to your dorm buildings, which happens to be right next to each other, complaining about how terrible of time you’re having adjusting to university life really brings people together.

“hey.” you cough.

izuku looks up to see you sporting a coffee cup in each hand.

“oh. it’s you. hey.”

you hold one out to him, waiting for him to take it, but all he does is give you a blank stare as his eyes flicker between your own and the cup outreached towards him.

“take it.” you chuckle. “i brought it for you. you looked like shit last time i saw you, so...”

the corners of his mouth quirks up into a smile, gingerly accepting the hot cup of coffee.

“...so this is your apology for staying past closing the other night?” he teases.

“oh definitely not.” you scoff. “i’ll be doing it again tonight too, don’t you worry.”

he nods his head, taking a deep swig of the bittersweet coffee. “see you at midnight, then.”

“see you at midnight.” you confirm, sending him a smile as you pull your headphones over your ear and head towards the back of the library where your designated table was waiting for you.

-

at 21-years-old, izuku goes to his first house party. it takes you about a week to convince him to give you one of his saturday nights that he’d usually reserve for studying or catching up on sleep.

“please.” you beg once more. “what are you going to say to your future students? how are you going to say you had the college experience without going to a single party?”

“with a degree?” he chuckles, slinging a rag over his shoulder. “you’re also distracting me. i’m on the clock, and my boss can come back anytime, you know.”

“oh, please.” you roll your eyes. “if toshinori was here, he’d be telling you to put your big boy pants on and get drunk with his favorite customer tonight. and if you agreed the first time i asked, i wouldn’t have to follow you to your second place of employment.”

“i’m sorry, i can’t. maybe next time?”

“please, izuku, just one party. i’ll help you get ready after your shift. we’ll leave anytime you want, but i can guarantee you’ll have so much fun. i promise i’ll never ask you again if you really do end up hating it.”

he can imagine it now- if someone asked him about his college experience, he wouldn’t mention the parties, the professors, or the time spent away from home. he’d talk about you.

izuku has a hard time balancing his life between keeping up with the workload and trying to not let his days blend into a muddy gray, but you had perfectly fit somewhere in between all of the chaos like a fresh breath of air.

izuku was tired, and you were a shot of espresso. how can he say no to you?

“fine.” he sighs in defeat, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter towards you. “but i can’t be out that late, okay? i have to be back here in the morning.”

-

“what the fuck happened?” you slam the door shut behind you, muffling out chatter of the crowd and heavy bass shaking through the walls. 

you twist a wad of toilet paper into a cone before plugging the stream of blood gushing from his nose.

“sorry, sorry, sorry!” he repeats, holding the toilet paper in place with a bewildered look in his eyes. 

“i don’t know what happened,” he starts in a nasally tone “maybe it’s all the smoke in the air or something. i heard that second hand smoke can be really drying for your nasal passages, especially if there’s not a lot of ventilation like in this apartment, i also haven’t been drinking a lot of water today and-”

“aht!” you interrupt, nudging him over with your elbow to rinse your hands off from the bloody residue. “my theory is that your body is shutting down on itself from the lack of proper sleep and nutrition. thoughts?”

izuku pouts. “stop it. i had a protein shake before we came, remember?”

“of course, how could i forget about the most rancid concoction you managed to blend together?” you mutter, wetting a wad of toilet paper and dabbing away the dried blood that had fallen onto his chin and t-shirt.

he cocks an eyebrow at you, holding up the red solo cup containing a questionable blue liquid that you shoved in his hands to hold when his nose started dripping blood. 

“wow, since when were you a chem major? since you know so much about ‘rancid concoctions,’ huh?” he deadpans.

“izuku midoriya, are you getting sassy with me?” you scoff, grabbing the cup back from his hands.

“maybe i am.” he presses his lips together to suppress a smirk. “or maybe i’m just making an observation.”

izuku had finally started learning how to bite back. somewhere within the last year, the skittish library worker who you enjoyed pestering had grown the confidence to return your relentless teasing.

you weren’t sure how to take it- how giddy it made you feel and how much more of it you wanted to draw out of him.

to him, it was all a front. he perfected the line delivery with ease, but at the cost of his chest tightening and stomach turning over the sight of your amused smile and lit up eyes. this made him anxious.

you have much more to lose

everytime he sees you, he’s reminded of your very first conversation together when you were first years. he’s acutely aware of how much he has to lose, but if there’s one thing izuku could not bear to risk losing during the worst few years of his life, it was you.

“uh, why are you looking at me like that?” he nervously chuckles, his ears growing hot from trailing your eyes as they glaze over his face.

“i love you.” you smile, the alcohol finally making its way to your head. “a lot.”

izuku’s breathing stops for a moment. his eyes widen, and the nervous giggles continue pouring out as his facade from minutes earlier crumbles completely.

“why are you laughing?” you chuckle, taking a sip from your cup, choking back a grimace.

“i…i don’t know.” he bites his bottom lip, suddenly aware of his nervous habit. “you’re just being a silly drunk right now."

“what? because i said i love you?” you cock your head with a lazy smile “the L-word got your panties in a twist?”

“don’t know what you mean.” he turns his attention back to the mirror, subtly swiping his sweaty palms on his thighs before unplugging the tissue from his nose. 

for the first time in his life, he’s simultaneously grateful and regretful for alcohol. grateful for the red sheen over his face to mask his blush. regretful for the carelessness it caused you with your words. 

he doesn’t have the time or energy to entertain it. that is the one thing he’s certain of. he wouldn’t be good for you- wouldn’t give you the time and attention you deserved. he loves you too. he loves you enough to not say it back.

“it stopped bleeding. i think i’ll have to leave soon, so let’s get back out there, yeah? i’ll make you a better drink, too.”

he shoots you a forced grin before grabbing you by the shoulders and ushering you two back to the party where you reunite with your roommates and mutual friends. you leave your drink in the bathroom.

-

on the day izuku turns 22-years-old, he finds out that he’s on track to graduate with you and his friends. after stepping out for a quick phone call with his academic advisor, he drunkenly cries into your shoulder mid-birthday party (that his boss at the cafe forced him to take the time off to have).

all of the hard work and courses he packed on during his first two years at university finally paid off. though, that doesn't mean he’s gotten any easier on himself.

he quits his job at the library and starts student teaching part time at the local middle school for college credit.

you barely see him now-a-days. more often than not, your texts go unanswered.

izuku is a busy guy.

you miss him. you didn't realize how lonely it felt to walk back to your dorm from the library at midnight by yourself- you haven't felt this way for a while, not since you met izuku. 

you wished he made it easier for you. your feelings for him never subsides, but instead grows into a longing ache. it’ll be like this until graduation. the occasional text message, running into each other in the halls with quick hello and goodbye, coming into his weekend job just to see him for a few reassuring moments- you know you both needed it.

he talks about you to his students a lot- “my best friend,” “someone important to me,” “my support system,” and etc. he’s always referring to you.

he missed seeing you all the time, but it’s all been so hectic for him he hates to admit that you barely cross his mind when he’s in the midst of a busy day. on top of his regular grueling school work, he has to lesson-plan for the days he’s teaching, grade papers, as well as check in with his professors and mentors.

he doesn’t know how he does it.

working in that library was excruciating, but he missed nothing more than the last half hour of his shifts where it’d just be you two, sending shy glances at one another until it hit midnight. he doesn’t even mind the rest of the 6 hour shift where you’re just sitting in the same spot that you always gravitate towards, head in the textbook for him to look up at every now and then.

you tell him you love him for the second time at the end of your graduation party when all of the guests have cleared out of your half empty apartment.

“what?” his eyes go wide, exactly like they did a year ago.

“i love you, izuku.” you ball the sides of your graduation gown, wrinkling the fabric in your hands.

you’re sober this time, which makes it infinitely more painful to say out loud.

his mouth gapes open as if he’s a fish gasping for water. he doesn’t know what to say.

“i have for years.” you fill in the silence, fidgeting with the silky material. “ever since you kicked me out of that fucking library, i think. i don’t know. maybe i’m being stupid, but i can’t help it. i love you, and i need you to know before… you know.”

it’s been three years, and you’ve waited until this night to pour it all out because you knew that in less than 24 hours, you’d be going your separate ways.

in a perfect situation, izuku would tell you that he feels the same. he’d run through an airport to stop you from leaving and beg you to stay with him. you wouldn’t have to go back home. you’d share an apartment. live in the city. start your entry jobs. you’d have time together.

“i’m sorry.” is all he says. “i’m sorry.” he repeats.

tears well in his eyes, and he grabs you by the shoulders to pull you into his chest.

“sheesh, you’re such a crybaby.” you choke out a half chuckle, your eyes running hot now. “don’t be sorry, okay? i get it. i know.”

your arms tightly wrap around izuku’s waist as you two silently sob into one another. his hand runs through your hair, stopping at the nape of your neck to pull you closer.

there’s something much more painful behind this confession to cry about. you’re leaving the city, and you have no reason to stay. for the first time in three years, izuku won’t be within arm’s reach and you’re left with the cold reality of navigating your future without your best friend by your side.

“you know, i..” he begins, pulling you back to look at your face, searching for the right words, or an answer. “it’s not that i don’t feel the same, okay?” 

his cheeks lightly dust over pink. it’s the first time he’s admitted that out loud.

“i know.” you sadly smile, your hand reaching up to wipe away the stray tears left on his cheeks. “we’ll be okay. we worked hard for this, izuku.”

izuku felt like throwing up. he had spent the last three years working himself into the ground with endless all-nighters, black coffees, and missed events to get everything he’s ever wanted for his future, so why does it feel like his world is slipping from between his fingers?

yes, he worked hard, but he wondered if it was all enough?

“i’m going to miss you.” he mutters, connecting your foreheads together. “i already do. you’re everything to me.”

“me more. i’ll miss you more.”

after that night, you don’t see izuku again for a long time. 

izuku jumps into his new position at the local high school in the same school district as the middle school he worked at during his last year of university. he feels a sense of relief everytime he walks into his school building- something that he couldn’t ever say during his years as a student.

you move back home and land an entry job at a startup tech company. it’s boring work, but at least it’s remote and your days don’t mesh into one- you made sure you would never have to go through that again.

you try to stay connected, but work is busy, and you’re both trying to figure out what life is supposed to look like post-grad. occasionally, you’ll send each other a meaningless “thinking of you” message, but you eventually lose contact after a couple of years of trying to plan visits and meet ups- there is just no time. there never was.

-

at 27-years-old, izuku is spending his late afternoon sitting in his empty classroom with one of his students. it’s half an hour past their scheduled parent-teacher conference time, and he’s wondering if he should just reschedule.

“are you sure your mom is coming? did you tell her the right time and date?” izuku sighs, resting his head on a propped elbow.

“duh. what kind of student do you think i am?” they scoff, glancing up at him from their phone.

“judging by your grades, i know exactly the kind of student you are.” he mumbles.

izuku’s trying to not panic, the kid clearly isn’t, but he’s wondering how far back this sets his schedule. he should be starting on the stack of papers to grade by now. he still needs to write out a lesson plan for tomorrow. maybe the kids deserve a movie day? maybe he deserves a movie day.

“don’t freak out.” izuku hears from outside of his door “you’re fine. it’s okay. seriously, chill the fuck out you weren’t interrupting anything, i needed a break anyways. i’m walking in right now. yeah, i’ll let you know how it goes.”

finally.

izuku straightens up, and tightens his tie. he whips open his laptop and pulls up the tabs of grades and assignments to discuss.

“i’m so sorry-” the voice falters at the end as it enters the classroom.

“don’t be, i was just-” izuku glances up from his screen and his throat suddenly closes shut.

5 years later, and the universe leads you back to one another. here. in his classroom.

“izuku midoriya?” you cough out.

for the first time in his life, he doesn’t like the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth. it’s hesitant. it sounds foreign. it makes him question himself for a moment. 

yes? that’s me, right? it’s me, izuku. your izuku.

“what are…uh.. you…here?” he stammers, unable to get the words out.

you take a step forward into the classroom. you could pass out at the sight of him. he still seemed as boyish as ever. maybe a bit broader, and taller, but his hair is still just as wild as it was in university. you can’t help but feel a twinge of insecurity as you wonder if you looked any different as well.

“uh…where’s mom?” your nephew glances back and forth between you two starstrucked at the sight of one another. “we have to look over my grades and stuff, you know.”

“right!” you exclaim. “your mom got caught up at work, so she asked me to come in.” you awkwardly shift in your position, your eyes never leaving izuku’s.

izuku’s face flares up in heat, snapping back into the present as his eyes flicker back towards his student.

“you know what? let’s reschedule that. you can go and i’ll see you tomorrow?” he quickly stands up, knocking over his chair and hitting his knee against his desk in the process.

“really?” they cock an eyebrow at the shift in behavior from the two adults in the room.

“yup! we’re running late and i have a meeting right now, so i’ll just email your mom to reschedule.” he forces a reassuring grin, making his way around his desk. “don’t forget to read over the syllabus to see what’s due, alright?”

“alright, i guess. see you tomorrow then, sensei” they shoot you a questioning side glance as they sling their backpack over their shoulder. “are you taking me home?”

“no.” you say, almost a bit too quickly. “uh, i have some errands to run before your mom gets back home, so you go on ahead i’ll see you at home.”

once your nephew leaves, unsuspecting of the thick line of tension running between his aunt and teacher, izuku quickly rushes over and shuts his door.

“whatareyoudoinghere?” the sentence leaves his mouth in an incoherent string of words. he grabs you by the shoulders and lets his eyes take in your face. every curve, every mark, every wrinkle, old and new.

you feel 19 again. you guess the urge to kiss izuku midoroya never leaves you, after all. 

“my sister just got a new job, so i’m living with her and helping her out with the kids while she adjusts.” you breathlessly stare at him. “i didn’t know you were still in the city.”

of course he’s still here- exactly where you left him after all these years. his grip on your shoulders tightens as a response. he’s scared that if he lets go, you’ll be gone for good, or at least for another 5 years.

“we should catch up.” you smile, grabbing onto his forearms as a warmth crawls up your next “when are you free? i mean, you’re probably really busy, but even a phone call-”

“tonight? how about tonight?” he blurts out. “we can go somewhere?”

izuku reassures himself that it’s fine. the kids can have a movie day, and he’ll spend that time grading papers and catching up on work. the only thing he needs is right in front of him.

seeing your face light up makes him feel nothing but nostalgic euphoria. he never wants to lose this feeling again.

“i’ll text you, then? you still have my number?”

he almost laughs in your face. your text conversation has been pinned to the top since the day you exchanged phone numbers.

“by heart.”

-

“tech? like you work in IT?” izuku’s face scrunches in disgust. he almost spits his drink out. “why the hell would you do that to yourself?”

“shut up!” you rub your face in your hands, snorting out a laugh. “it’s easy, i’m in a senior position, it pays well, and it’s remote. that’s all i care about for now.”

you two meet at a nearby bar. outside of his suit and tie, he looked much younger. he looks like the izuku you knew half a decade ago with his perpetual pink cheeks, slightly too large graphic tee, and red sneakers.

“so you’re now living with your sister… in the city.” he begins, looking into your eyes with a hopeful gleam. “for how long?”

“i’m not sure.” you shrug. “i’m still figuring it out, but my lease back home is up at the end of next month, so either way, i have to see what i want to do by then.”

“you should stay in the city.” the words slipped out of his mouth before he could process them.

“i mean- it’s just, you know, your sister is here, and her kids, and there’s more opportunities and stuff, and your work is remote anyways, and uh-” he stammers, words flowing out in an unstoppable stream.

“-and you’re here?” you tease.

his face flushes red.

“it is a possibility.” you sigh, shooting him a subtle smirk and saving him the embarrassment of coming up with a response. “i don’t know though. my sister wants me to stay too, but it’s a lot to think about.”

“i get it. my mom moved to the city to be near. it was hard for her.” he takes a sip of his drink. “not with me, though! she’s got a townhouse in the outskirts.” he quips.

you laugh. he definitely hasn't changed.

“speaking of, do you want to come back to my apartment? right now?” he shyly asks, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

“right now?” you look down and check the time displayed on your phone.

11:00pm.

“it’s a school night isn’t it?” you cock your head to the side. "i'm surprised you even wanted to meet up this late. thought i'd have to book office hours with you weeks in advance to catch up." you tease

izuku mentally curses at himself for being so forgetful, and so predictable. he doesn’t want this night with you to end, but that 7:00am alarm set for tomorrow morning is inching closer and closer.

“you’re right.” his confidence deflates. “i guess we should get going.”

you two pay your tab and make your way to the exit. you stand facing each other at the corner of the street, taking in each other’s presence once more.

there’s a faint buzzing in your ear from the lamppost hanging above you and your breaths come out in shallow puffs. you don’t know why you’re so nervous all of the sudden. you wish you didn’t have to leave again.

“so, can we do this again? can i see you again?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“you think i’d get to see izuku midoriya from beyond the grave and let you get away? for the second time?”

he feels like he could cry right now, so he pulls you in for a hug instead. you haven’t changed at all- not in the ways that matter anyways. his hand falls against the nape of your neck as he presses his cheek against your forehead.

“i missed you.” he mutters into your hair.

“me more.”

before you go your separate ways, i love you sits at the tip of his tongue. he wants to tell you. to finally say back after all of these years, but it somehow doesn’t feel right- not yet at least.

-

a few weeks later, you find yourself sitting in one of izuku’s classroom desks. the top button of his shirt is undone, his sleeves rolled up, and the soft late afternoon sunlight streaming through his window bathes him in gold.

from over your laptop screen, you see izuku mumbling to himself as he reads through essays while twirling a red pen between his fingers. the look of concentration had been plastered to his face since you were students- dark furrowed brows, unblinking eyes, a twinge of anxiety, and tightly pressed lips.

“you’re staring.” he mutters in between his incoherent mumbles.

his eyes snap up to meet yours.

“no i’m not.” you shrug, suppressing a satisfied smile as your eyes return to your own screen.

“I think i’ve gotten pretty good at noticing after spending all those years with you in that library.” he returns the smile, leaning back in his seat. “you don’t stare often, but when you do, you stare loud.”

“says you.” you roll your eyes. “you don’t think i ever noticed the thousand glances every hour?”

his face scrunches in embarrassment. 

“not like i could help myself.” he mutters, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. 

“ditto.” you halfway close your laptop and rest your head on a propped elbow. “but you knew that.”

the air in the room thickens between you two. you’ve been itching to have a conversation with izuku about your last moments before you left the city 5 years ago, but there hasn’t been a good time to bring it up. you weren’t even sure if you should at all.

“i don’t think i ever noticed.”

“noticed what?”

“that you liked me.” he pressed his lips together, nervous to bring up the past. “like that at least. i didn’t have a clue before you took me to that party.”

“how could you?” you breathe out a chuckle. “you were drowning in your work and studies, there was no time to even sleep let alone have anything romantic.”

a beat of silence passes.

“sorry.” he mutters.

“don’t be.” you shrug. "i loved you enough for the both of us. you were my best friend, and i wouldn’t change anything. maybe i would’ve forced you to take more naps, though.” you chuckle.

he doesn’t like the past tense termage of this conversation. it makes him feel a bit nauseous thinking that he really did lose it all, even with you here in front of him.

“i told you i felt the same, didn’t i?”

“mmm.. i guess so.” you mutter. “but it’s different. it was a goodbye.”

“i’m sorry.” he says again, with a pout this time.

“stop that.” you launch your pen in his direction, bouncing off of the chalk board behind him. “i’m here now. you’re here. you’re still my best friend. everything’s the same, except we’re a little bit older and have 5 years to catch up on. isn’t that enough?”

you two danced around the conversation for a few more minutes before returning to your work in silence. there was no clear answer as to where your feelings for each other stand now, but he feels just as sick as he did the day of the grad party.

but isn’t that enough? to just have you here now?

on a saturday night in his apartment, just days before you have to go home and sort out your living situation, izuku tells you he loves you for the first time.

you’re staring at him, unsure if maybe you heard him wrong or if it was the television in the background.

“huh?” your mouth gapes open. “what’d you say?”

“i..i love you.” his voice shakes as the words leave his mouth. “i love you, okay?”

for a split second, there’s a sequence of images that flash through his mind. his body would learn to wake up at 6:55am every morning despite his alarm being set for 7:00am. he sees you peacefully sleeping next to him, and he can’t bring himself to let that alarm go off and disturb you.

he’d start the coffee pot- enough for two, obviously. maybe he’d leave a nice note for you to start your day off with. maybe a grocery list if you’re up for the trip, but you’d insist that you go to the market together on the weekend. you’re very distracting, and he knows this, but you’d somehow always meet at the dining room table or his classroom to do work together. 

he’d come home to you softly singing in the kitchen while making dinner. every now and then, he’d surprise you with flowers when he comes home from work, but he’ll brush it off and say it’s “for the apartment” just out of pure nerves. movie nights. falling asleep on the couch together. waking up in the afternoon with a split second of panic- but it’s the weekend and he doesn’t have a class to get to. he’d see the sunlight pool against your face as you slowly wake up from your slumber with fluttering eyelashes. he’d kiss you in that unsuspecting moment. he’d say he loves you with every breath leaving his lungs. he’d always have time for you.

“izuku.” you sadly smile, turning over to the stove and extinguishing the flame. “you don’t have to do this, you know?”

his heart sinks to his stomach.

“i know- no it’s not like that.” he stammers. “it’s because.. i’m saying it because…”

he makes his way around the kitchen island to you, firmly gripping your shoulders. he wants to make sure you hear this from him properly. after all of these years.

“because i love you, and i think i alway have.” he bites his bottom lip. “and i think i always will, and you’re here, and i’m here, and i know it’s hard because i kind of really messed things up in university, but to be honest, i regret everything because yeah i love my job and i’m doing okay now, but i lost you for 5 years and thought i’d never get to see you again and i should've-”

he stops himself when he sees his reflection in your eyes. he’s doing it again- the rambling.

“sorry.” he mutters. “but do you…do you understand?” he almost pleads.

“i understand.” you nod your head, a long exhale following your reply.

for a moment, you’re 22 again, and the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over are no longer apologetic, but now hopeful.

you can’t help but pull him into a hug, running your hand up and down his back as he sniffs back his tears.

“always such a crybaby, izuku.” you muffle into his shoulder. “i love you, too. you know that.”

“i feel so stupid.” he chokes out. “5 years is so long, and i feel like i blacked out for the entirety of that time and now that you’re back, i’m alive and can't do it without you again.”

he pulls away, looking back at you with furrowed brows and tear stained cheeks.

“please stay in the city. please.” 

your eyes widen at the request- the same request you wished left his lips all those years ago.

“you want me to stay?”

“selfishly, yes.” he bites down on his bottom lip. “here. with me.”

you take a moment and let your eyes wander around the apartment. you eye the half cooked dinner on the stove, the pile of unopened mail sitting on the counter, the row of dead plants lining the living room window.

izuku follows your eyes. he knows you’d settle in nicely, almost like the final piece in a puzzle. he feels it in his gut. he also feels the panic bubbling in his stomach the longer your gaze lingers at the chaos behind him.

“is that too fast?” he breaks the silence. “sorry. i don’t mean to jump from ‘i love you’ to ‘move in with me’ in the same night.” he awkwardly laughs, releasing you from his grip. “uh, maybe we’ll talk more about that after dinner.”

his face burns into a bright red- snapping out of his love dazed state and back into the reality where he just confessed to his best friend on a random night in.

“maybe after dinner, you can give me a proper tour of the place?” 

for the first time in izuku's life, he feels content knowing that time passes and the world continues to turn.

with you, it feels a bit gentler.

with you, it's worth it.

-

bonus ssrryy i have to be indulgent lmao:

the first time izuku kisses you, you're on your way back from a late night outing from the bars with his coworkers where he introduces you as his partner for the first time.

"you sure you're okay?" he laughs as you rub your hand against the back of his neck from the passenger seat.

"super peachy, zuku." you hiccup, twirling a green curl between your fingers. "a few drinks got nothing on me."

izuku presses his lip into a wobbly smile.

from his peripheral, he feels your stare burning into his side profile, only making him more nervous by the second. he thinks about teasing you and calling it out for a moment, but he remains silent for the rest of the drive back home.

izuku parks the car, shutting off the engine and letting the overhead light dimly illuminated the space between you two.

he leans over to meet your eyes and rests his elbow over the center console, taking a second to silently debrief from the night's social outing.

"thanks for coming out with me." he whispers, reaching down and shyly interlocking his index finger with yours.

"i love a good excuse to drink." you laugh, leaning in and letting your foreheads connect.

izuku only had a single drink several hours ago, but he suddenly blacks out. with his other hands, he reaches up and tips your chin up and lock his lips with yours.

it takes you off guard, but you don't hesitate to reach up and rest your hand on the side of his neck.

when izuku pulls away, his breathing is heavy and face grows red. your finger remains interlocked.

"um. i love you." he coughs, briefly meeting your gaze before darting away. "uh, sorry i should have asked" he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"i love you, izuku midoriya." you say in a teasing tone, leaning further over the center console and into the driver's seat.

izuku leans away until his back hits the soft interior of the car door.

"uh, we should.. we should go in? right?" he starts, eyes widening as you inch closer.

you reach over and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him into you.

"yeah, we should." you say before crashing your lips into his, feeling him accept the defeat with a nervous laugh as he lets his hands find the soft skin of your cheek and warmth of your neck.

[deadhands69]

Something More [than a hangover]

Katsuki Bakugo x gn reader

MDNI + eventual smut/afab

Setting: fuckboy!Bakugo, mid-time skip, Senior Year of College. Reader did not attend UA high, just joined for university. Enemies to lovers (with a lot in between.)

Warnings, etc: series contains eventual smut, slight angst, light violence/injuries, mentions of drinking/intoxication, swearing.

part 1 - this is part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

“Oh my god, what was I thinking,” you grumble into Jiro’s bed. You’d been lying there face down for twenty minutes after waking up, remembering your night, and stumbling down the hall to her dorm.

“It’s not that bad, right?” she reassures you, lightly untangling the knots in your hair with her fingers. “I’ve known him since high school. He definitely takes things too far sometimes, but he can be a good friend. He seems to have changed a lot in some ways since then though. But still, it’s not like you did anything with him…?”

“I don’t think so…” you trail off, “I think I’d remember that.”

Last night. You remember being in a closet with Katsuki Bakugo, which for some reason unknown to you now, you enjoyed more than you should have. You remember drinking with him, talking all night, and - that’s about where your memory ends. Checking your texts, it looks like you wanted to kiss him. Did you? You’d remember that right? 

Then there’s the photo you sent Mina and Jiro. Blurry and underexposed but you could definitely make out the situation. His arm around you as you lean into his neck, glossy eyes half closed but focused on him. His huge smile as he leans into you. You looked close. A wave of nausea hit again, sending you running to her bathroom. 

It’s Katsuki Bakugo, what the fuck were you thinking?

After pulling your hair back, Jiro leaves to grab you a cup of water. 

“Hey, uh,” she hesitantly starts, “maybe not the best timing but Bakugo just texted you to make sure you’re still on for the library today.” 

“Ughh I do not want to deal with him,” your voice echoes through the bathroom.

“I can tell him you need to reschedule?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll have to meet up with him eventually. Might as well rip the bandaid off.”

An hour later, you’d showered as well as you could after taking off your bandages (or what was left of them, it looked like you snagged them in the brush on the walk home.) The cold water helped the nausea and some of the pain. Dehydration made the remaining burns feel much worse so you try to drink as much water as you can keep down. Your raw and slightly blistered skin looks brutal but it’ll be better when you can visit Recovery Girl again on Monday. A few tylenol for your headache and pain, that was about all you could do for now.

Choosing an outfit, you put on basically what he made you change out of last night - skinny jeans and a huge hoodie, this time with cute sneakers in your favorite color. No makeup today, you throw on some oversized sunglasses instead. Grabbing an extra cup of coffee and your backpack, you head to the library.

Bakugo is already there. Leaning against a pillar, looking way too put together for the amount you saw him drink last night. 

“Aww, you look great,” he says sarcastically as you half drag yourself to meet him.

“Ughh. How are you alive right now?” you groan back.

“I threw up twice, ate a lot, and slept it off. Looks like you didn’t.” 

No words come to mind so you flip him off.

“You’re sweet when you’re hungover, this will be so fun,” he gestures towards the entrance, “come on, I already reserved a study room.”

In spite of being an asshole, he proceeds to hold doors for you.

The study room is small but quiet. There’s enough room for the two of you to sit on one side of the table with the notes and writings you’ve done on each other’s quirks, it’s not much. Each of the pages is crinkled from some combination of being passed back and forth between being on the receiving end of outbursts. Various colors of ink have crossed out each other’s writing, adding corrections. At least the quirk descriptions are done. You’d love to say the rest has been easier to work on in person but an hour and a half has dragged by without much progress. Still hungover, you wish you would have stayed in bed.

His phone sits on the table, buzzing with a new message. Glancing down, you notice five unchecked messages from three different girls' names.

You laugh and he silences his phone before setting it back on the table, this time face-down.

“Didn’t learn from last night, huh?”

“Eh, I dealt with it this morning when she was sober. Plus, it was an isolated incident,” he grumbles while you notice the tips of his ears turning red.

“Sure it was. Well,” you continue, ”when it happens next time, and I’m sure it will, I won’t be so nice and let you in my hiding spot.”

“Oh, your spot? Because if I remember correctly, I got there first. And I let you stay.”

“Aren’t you sooo sweet,” you lay on the phony niceness, batting your eyelashes at him before he throws it back.

“I really am,” his fake smile makes your heart flutter. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Back to our regularly scheduled sarcasm.

“Is that so? I’ll bet your mom must be really proud of you.” 

“She is,” he asserts, “really. My mom is so fucking proud of me. Want me to call her and ask?” He picks his phone up to start dialing and you swear she’s saved as ‘Hag.’

“No, I take your word for it.”

 Part of you is curious who raised the monster next to you, but most of you would like to be out of this room as fast as possible to figure your shit out. You really can’t tell if you’re annoyed, disgusted, or trying to flirt with him. All of the feelings blur together into one big mess while you helplessly watch your own reactions. You need to get through this.

Pulling your pen from behind your ear and grabbing one of the papers in front of you, you get back to work.

“So,” you begin before rolling your sleeves up, “right here you said your quirk works with...” but you realize quickly that your words fall on deaf ears. He’s staring at your arms, seeing your damaged skin for the first time. Awkwardly, you move to cover your wrists again before he grabs your hands to stop you. His mouth opens to speak but the words don’t come. Licking his lips, he tries again.

“I- uh, fuck,” he squeezes your hands a bit harder, “I really meant it when I said I’m sorry. I owe you. More than opening doors and walking you places and stuff.”  

Recovery Girl is convinced you’ll make a full recovery with minimal scarring. You don’t say this though, staring at your hands in his instead. There’s nothing romantic about the way he’s holding onto you. More desperate and uncomfortable, but you can’t say the closeness doesn’t do something as his huge fists completely engulf your own. It leaves you speechless.  

“I uhm…” you pull your hands away from his and pause to think.

You can’t let yourself get this distracted by him. He’s Katsuki Bakugo, your natural enemy. And on top of that, how long will he be nice to make-up for hurting you before he goes back to being his asshole self? If you let him get under your skin too much, you won’t be able to handle that when the time comes. 

“I know why you’re being nice,” you start, “but two days ago you were being a total dick to me. I appreciate you trying to make up for everything, but it feels more confusing than friendly.”

“Two days ago, you weren’t exactly nice to me either. I know we never really became friends,” he hesitates for a moment and you cringe thinking of how you slapped him, “but you don’t know why I’m doing this.”

“Go on.”

“Yeah, at first it’s because I felt bad, but Racoon Eyes and Shitty Hair said we have a lot in common. And they’re right. I’m trying to be nicer because I don’t absolutely hate being around you, you’re kind of cool when you’re not going off on me.” 

“You do deserve it sometimes,” you add.

Bakugo says nothing, instead he just nods. Sucking on the inside of his lip, he considers your comment before continuing, “If you don’t wanna be my friend it’s fine, just fucking say it,” you stare silently and he continues, “but with the way you’re acting I think that’s what you want too. And even if it’s not, we still have to find some way to work together because we have all this shit to do,” he says gesturing to the table of scribbled notes. 

That’s it.

“Wait,” you nearly whisper while reviewing the papers in front of you, “no, that’s totally it.”

“Uh, care to explain?” he furrows his brows at you, his vivid eyes searching your face for an answer.

“That’s why this has been so hard to finish. We’ve never worked together. I know what your quirk does but every time I’ve ever seen it, we’ve been so busy trying to beat each other we don’t actually have time to observe. We need to work together.”

The rest of the hour went by quickly, mostly planning where and when to meet next. ‘Where’ was easy. You want to train together and the forest near campus works great. ‘When’ was harder. It has to be after you’re healed but before a huge storm rolls in early on Tuesday. Bakugo is leaving today to visit family and won’t be back until Monday afternoon anyways, so it has to be that night. You think you can sleep enough to recover after your appointment. You hope you can, at least. Parting ways at the library doors, you agree to text him Monday when you wake up. 

On the walk back, you consider the last few days. Your biggest enemy now wants something like a friendship. A chill runs down your spine when the winter wind picks up, blowing air straight through your hoodie - making you wish you’d worn more layers. You walk faster. 

Can you even be friends with Bakugo? Bickering with him has been a lot more fun without a bite under your words, but it almost feels too flirtatious considering who’s on the other end. And, as much as you hate to admit it, he’s hot. Too hot for his own stupid good. 

You nearly trip over a curb in a rush to get back to your dorm.

Fuck, you need to sleep.

part 3

m.list

[sophsicle]

I'm Sorry I'm the One You Love

Part I (Part II)

Sirius Black isn't in love with James Potter. Though sometimes Remus looks at him like he is. Like Sirius is sad and pathetic and...he doesn't even know, pining?

But he isn't.

Well.

Alright.

Sad and pathetic, perhaps. Depending on who you ask. On when you're looking. But he isn't pining. And he isn't in love with James.

That would be too easy.

Sirius thinks he could bear just being in love with him. Thinks that's a pill he could swallow. Unrequited feelings and all that. He'd mope around and write sad songs and drink too much. But eventually he'd get past it the way people seem to do with those kinds of feelings. But he isn't in love with James, is the problem.

He's fucking consumed by him.

"Sirius."

"Don't start."

Remus huffs, but, mercifully, goes back to his coursework, shaking his head while he does. Sirius, on the other hand, keeps staring at James and Lily. They aren't doing anything really, Sirius doesn't reckon Evans is one for big, public displays of affection. But then, maybe that'd be better. James and him don't - they've never - done that. Kiss or anything. So. It probably wouldn't feel so much like a kick in the fucking teeth the way watching them now does. Leaning into one another, heads nearly pressed together, whispers traded back and forth, secret smiles, nudging feet. James and Sirius have done that plenty.

Remus sighs again. "Why don't you talk to him?"

After a few seconds Sirius manages to pull his eyes away from the grotesque spectacle on the other side of the library. Why the hell are they sitting there anyway? Surely they could have sat at the same bloody table?

"I talk to him every day," Sirius says blankly. Which earns him a deeply unimpressed look.

"You know what I mean."

"I don't."

"You do."

"Don't."

He gets an eye roll this time. "Fine," muttering as he picks up his quill. "Have it your way then."

Remus has freckles splashed across his nose and cheeks, and just about the longest eyelashes Sirius has ever seen. He's obsessed with them, to tell you the truth. He's asked Remus if he uses some kind of potion for them but the other boy only scrunched his nose up, giving Sirius a look he didn't understand.

Remus's eyes flick up again now, meeting Sirius's, finding him staring. Sirius doesn't look away. He isn't embarrassed. Not about this. Not about most things, honestly.

"What?" Remus ask warily.

Sirius only shrugs. "Astronomy Tower? Tonight?"

Remus holds his gaze for a long moment before dropping his head again. "Fine." He doesn't sound overly enthusiastic but then, he never does with Sirius.

Sirius has never kissed James. Not even once. Though he's thought about it a few times. Sometimes he wants to ask James if he's thought about it too. Just so he knows. He's never kissed James.

But he has kissed Remus.

Loads.

He thinks he might be an expert at this point.

It takes the edge off. Makes him feel less like he's going insane every time he sees James. Like he wants to eat him and not in a sexual way, not really, more like in the way wolves want to sink their teeth into the necks of rabbits. Want to snap their spines. Want to feel them go limp. Want to swallow them whole so that there's no difference anymore. Between them. Between us. I've made you part of me. Bone of my bones. Blood of my blood. Skin of my skin.

See. It's not love. Sirius doesn't know what it is but it's not that.

After a few more seconds he kicks Remus under the table, causing the other boy to look up in exasperation. But this time when their eyes meet Sirius smiles the way he knows Remus likes. Feeling his insides grow warm when Remus smiles back - even if he's a little delicate about it.

Sirius isn't in love with James Potter.

But he might be in love with Remus.

[wandering-winchesters]

A Desperate Moment I

Summary: After a life-threatening hunt, Dean, overwhelmed by fear and desperation, shares a raw and intense moment with Y/N, revealing the depth of his feelings and solidifying their connection as they promise to face the future together.

Part 2 Here

The air in the bunker is thick with tension, the kind that comes after a particularly rough hunt. You, Sam, and Dean have barely made it back in one piece, each of you nursing your own set of bruises and cuts. The silence between you is heavy, each of you lost in your own thoughts as you process what happened.

You’re in the library, pacing back and forth, trying to shake off the adrenaline that’s still coursing through your veins. The room feels too small, too constricting, and your mind is racing, replaying the events of the night over and over again.

You almost died tonight. You came so close to not making it out, and the thought of how close you came has your heart pounding all over again. You’ve been on countless hunts before, faced down monsters and demons with a steady hand, but tonight was different. Tonight, you felt the cold touch of death brush against you, and it’s left you rattled in a way you can’t quite shake.

Dean walks in, his footsteps heavy on the floor. He’s usually so composed after a hunt, but tonight, he seems just as on edge as you are. His jaw is clenched, his shoulders tense, and there’s a darkness in his eyes that you haven’t seen in a long time. He’s been distant ever since you got back, barely saying a word to you or Sam.

You stop pacing when you see him, your breath catching in your throat. There’s something in his expression that makes you uneasy, something raw and unguarded. You’ve seen Dean angry, you’ve seen him hurt, but this… this is different.

“Dean,” you start, your voice shaky as you try to gauge what’s going on with him. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just stares at you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s like he’s wrestling with something inside him, something he doesn’t know how to put into words. And then, before you can say anything else, he takes a step closer, his movements almost frantic.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice rough and filled with a desperation that you’ve never heard from him before. “You—” He stops, clenching his fists at his sides as if he’s trying to hold himself back. But whatever he’s fighting, he’s losing.

You barely have time to react before he’s right in front of you, his hands grabbing your arms with a grip that’s almost too tight. His eyes are burning with something fierce, something that looks like fear mixed with anger, and you can feel the heat radiating off him in waves.

“Dean, what—” you start, but your words are cut off as he suddenly pulls you to him, crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that’s nothing like you ever imagined.

It’s not soft or sweet; it’s rough, urgent, full of a desperation that takes your breath away. His hands move to cup your face, his fingers trembling slightly as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. The kiss is fierce, raw, like he’s pouring every ounce of fear and frustration into it, and you can feel the weight of everything he’s been holding back.

You’re too stunned to respond at first, your mind reeling from the suddenness of it all. But then you feel the way he’s trembling against you, the way he’s clinging to you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, and something inside you snaps. You kiss him back, matching his intensity, your hands grabbing the front of his shirt as if you’re trying to pull him even closer.

The kiss deepens, becoming almost frantic, and you can taste the desperation on his lips, the way he’s pouring everything he can’t say into this one moment. It’s like he’s trying to drown out the fear that’s been gnawing at him, to remind himself that you’re still here, still alive.

When you finally pull back, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you struggle to catch your breath. Dean’s eyes are still closed, his chest heaving as he tries to steady himself. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your own, the echo of the fear that’s still coursing through him.

“Dean…” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you try to make sense of what just happened.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just stands there with his eyes closed, his hands still gently holding your face. When he finally opens his eyes, there’s a vulnerability in them that makes your heart ache.

“I thought I lost you,” he says, his voice rough and filled with a raw honesty that takes you by surprise. “When I saw you go down, I… I thought that was it. I couldn’t… I can’t lose you, Y/N.”

The weight of his words hits you like a punch to the gut, and you realize just how deeply tonight’s events have affected him. Dean’s always been the strong one, the one who holds it together when everything else falls apart. But tonight, you saw a side of him that you’ve never seen before—a side that’s scared, vulnerable, terrified of losing the people he cares about.

You reach up, gently brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead, your touch soft as you try to comfort him. “You didn’t lose me, Dean,” you say, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I’m right here.”

He closes his eyes again, leaning into your touch, and you can feel the tension slowly start to melt away from his body. For a moment, you both just stand there, holding onto each other, finding comfort in the shared silence.

When Dean finally speaks again, his voice is quieter, more controlled, but still filled with that same desperation. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “I didn’t mean to… I just…”

You shake your head, cutting him off before he can finish. “Don’t apologize,” you say softly. “I get it. I was scared too.”

He opens his eyes, searching your face for any sign of hesitation or regret, but all he finds is understanding. Slowly, he leans down, pressing a much softer, almost tentative kiss to your forehead, and you can feel the way his hands have stopped trembling.

“Just… promise me something,” Dean says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Promise me you’ll be careful. I don’t… I can’t go through that again.”

You nod, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his words. “I promise, Dean.”

And in that moment, with the weight of the world still pressing down on both of you, something shifts between you. It’s not just the kiss, not just the fear of what could have been—it’s the realization that beneath all the teasing and the banter, there’s something real, something that’s been there all along, just waiting for the right moment to surface.

You pull him into another kiss, this one softer, less desperate but just as full of emotion. It’s a kiss that promises things unsaid, a kiss that seals the unspoken understanding between you. And when you finally pull away, you both know that things have changed—irrevocably, but for the better.

Dean presses his forehead to yours again, his breath warm against your skin. “We’ll figure this out,” he murmurs, his voice full of quiet determination. “Whatever this is… we’ll figure it out.”

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest, but this time, it’s not from fear. It’s from the overwhelming sense of something new, something that feels like hope.

“Yeah,” you whisper back, your hand still resting on his chest. “We will.”

tag list: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester

Part 2 Here

[remuslupinslittleslut]

Teach us - Part one

@missakward123: can you do dom! reader poly marauders? Also loved this!! Yes I can, but I have such a hard time writing a sub!Remus, so I kinda took it in my own direction.

Part two is found here!

Reader x Remus turned into Reader x Poly!Marauders.

Masterlist.

They thought it was strange how Remus had been the first to lose his virginity out of the three of them. Both Sirius and James had girls throwing themselves after them constantly, but somehow, Remus was the first to go all the way.

You had always found them all quite attractive, but thought that Sirius and James tended to be a bit obnoxious at times. When you saw Remus studying alone in the library one day, you thought you’d go up and say hi to the tall, handsome guy. The two of you had only talked briefly before this interaction, but soon found that you enjoyed each other’s company. It didn’t take long from there for you to go on a date and soon you were a couple. 

Remus, ever the gentleman, didn’t tell his friends about your first time, he thought it was best kept private between the two of you, therefore you always tried to keep it somewhat lowkey, finding time to be perfectly alone. Though any secret could not be held for long in that dorm and one evening the cat came running and screaming out of the bag. You thought you’d get to be alone with Remus, as the other two had practice. As it turned out, however, practice was canceled and the door to the dorm was thrown open just in time for the two surprised boys to see you orgasm, quivering around Remus’ cock.

It slightly ruined the mood and you struggled to cover yourself as Sirius went on a long rampage about “The betrayal! The absolute betrayal. Our baby moons got laid and didn’t tell us. Here he is, having had sex the whole time – while keeping us in the dark.” He was pacing back and forth, only half joking about his distress before deciding to be the bigger person and be happy for his friend. “Good job Moons. First one out of all of us. Amazing.” With a chef’s kiss he left the subject of betrayal and moved on to something else.

After the embarrassing moment of coming in front of your boyfriend’s friends, it didn’t take long before the question was asked.

“Hey Moony, since you already had sex, could you teach us how to do it?”

“Yeah, Moons, I wanna be ready for when Lily lets me go all the way if you catch my drift,” James agreed, with a very unnecessary wink as everyone understood exactly what he meant.

You stared, gaping. That they would ask such a question didn’t surprise you one bit. The fact that Remus seemed to be actually thinking it over did.

“I guess,” he started, patting your thigh, “you’re gonna ask her if she’s willing to teach you.”

You, teaching his friends how to have sex? The idea was preposterous. Yet… It did make you feel a certain tingle between your legs. You still found them attractive, and the thought of being the one to take their virginities? Oh, that was just beautiful. You thought it over in your head. Remus was quite dominant, not really treating you as a submissive but he liked being a bit in control, he’d never let you have all the reigns. These two however… Looking Remus straight in the eye, you searched for any form of hesitance – you didn’t find any.

“Alright then, we’re gonna have to set some rules,” you said.

It was agreed that the day after, you’d help take your boyfriend’s best friends’ virginities. You said 24 hours to give everyone a chance to back out, and told them very specifically that they would shower, properly, “none of that locker room stuff, a real shower, clean everything.” It was best to be clear when dealing with teenage boys.

A whole 24 hours later you found yourself walking up the stairs to their dorm. You knew Remus would be there, and you knew they’d given consent. You wore your school skirt, but without panties, a t-shirt with a very flattering bra and your hair out. You had to get yourself in that dominant mood, ready to boss the boys around. Since becoming Remus’ girlfriend, you had gotten to know his friends as well. You knew James would be easier to dom, and you knew Sirius would be a little brat. Therefore, you started with James. Opening the door, you could cut the tension with a knife.

The boys were so cute and nervous, standing up and waiting for you (not Remus, of course, he was comfortably splayed out on his own bed). “Jamie,” you said. “Do you still wanna do this?” He nodded. “Okay, then take your clothes off and sit down on your bed. You,” you turned to Sirius, “are gonna have to wait your turn.”

When James was naked and seated on the edge of his bed, you took a moment to appreciate his toned body. The moment didn’t last very long though as you wanted to feel him. Climbing into his lap, thighs straddling his, you took his face and held it in your hands. He was so pretty, so soft, so pliable. “Jamie, have you ever kissed a girl?” you asked him, bringing your mouth so close to his that your lips almost touched his. “No,” he said, cheeks flushing red. Holding onto his cheeks, you brought your lips against his, softly at first, then with a little more pleasure. The warm breath from his nose on your cheek sent chills down your spine. Deciding to progress, you slightly opened your mouth, letting your tongue out to lick lightly at his lips. He moaned.

You continued kissing him, making out really, until you felt he was ready to move on. Leaning back a little, you pulled your top over your head, revealing your soft tits, perfectly framed by your bra. “Go ahead, baby, you can touch.” With your permission, warm hands pressed against your back before following the lines of your body, meeting your front and lightly squeezing your tits. You allowed him to explore freely, until he pushed his head down, paused and looked up at you, eyes asking for permission. Instead of answering him verbally, you pushed your tits against his face, letting him know he could kiss and suck all he wanted. He did manage to get your bra off all on his (you were so proud of him), and as it fell to the floor, you felt his cock twitching.

You let him play some more with your boobies before taking his hand, kissing it once and telling him “Jamie, have you ever felt a girl?” When he shook his head, you kissed the top of his head and pushed his hand down, between your bodies and toward your core. “Feel that? I’m all wet, that’s all for you baby,” you cooed, watching his facial expressions in awe – he was so fascinated. “Now, do you know where your little cock is supposed to go?” Little was a big lie. His brows furrowed in concentration as he felt around for the right hole, he did find it, and pushed a finger in. “Good boy, now put your cock in.” You raised yourself, hovering above him, hand coming down to help him push his cock into your warm hole. “Oh that’s a good boy f’me,” you moaned, loving the feeling of him filling you up.

Being so focused on James had almost made you forget about your audience, looking to the side, you met Remus’ hungry eyes. You could tell he was enjoying the show, hand rubbing against the bulge in his pants. You decided not to look at Sirius, making him wait for your attention.

Grabbing James’ shoulders, you carefully tried moving, sliding yourself along his cock, making you both moan. You tried a few different movements, going up and down, back and forth. It felt really good and you enjoyed playing around with it, and it seemed as though he was enjoying it too, his head thrown back, glasses askew and mouth slightly open. Suddenly his hands squeezed hard on your hips, making you stop your movements. “Jamie, you okay?” You asked, massaging his scalp with your fingers. “Yeah,” he reassured, “yeah, just need to… I’m gonna come…”

You giggled softly, “it’s okay if you do, but first, I wanna do one more thing.” Pulling your body away from his was hard, letting his heavy cock fall out of you was even harder, and you immediately mourned the loss. Though, you knew it would be worth it. Laying down flat on your back, you beckoned for him to join you, to climb on top of you. “You should know how to fuck a girl, Jamie,” you said, helping him find his way back into you. His athletic body was made for this, for moving himself back and forth, hips pushing against yours. He didn’t go very fast, but you knew he’d be able to when he got more used to the feeling. Hiding his face against your neck, letting the vibrations of his moans shoot right through you, his hips started making the smallest, cutest, most desperate little movements. “That’s good baby, that’s a good boy, you’re doing so well, so good, making me feel so good.” You didn’t think you’d be able to come, he was a virgin, but the little thrusts pushed the head of his cock against you in a way that just felt too good to hold back.

“Jamie, baby, I’m ‘bout to come,” you moaned, kissing his head, holding him close, “you’re so go- ah-od,” your moans grew louder as you experienced a rather mild orgasm, though, an orgasm nonetheless. Your walls spasming around him made him come as well, pretty cock filling you up with his little virgin cum.

“Wow, Jamie, you did so well, I’m so proud of you,” you told him, after he had pulled out and collapsed on top of you. His head was still buried in the crook of your neck, his breathing fast and hard. “Did you enjoy it?” You asked, to which he pulled his face away, eyes wide. “Like it? That was amazing.”

You stayed like that, letting him hold onto your body for a while, not wanting to leave him without aftercare and love. Though you knew, as soon as James moved away from you, you’d have to deal with his mischievous best friend. Before you let James continue his cuddling – with Remus – you made him promise you something. “Next time love, you’re gonna let me take your cute little cock in my mouth, okay?” To this, he nodded, excitedly.

Part two.

[mosaickiwi]

Hi again! Hope you've been doing okay!

First off I just wanna say that you always deliver, I mean "Fall Unto Me"?? Four part+an epilogue of me being torn between wanting to baul my eyes out and wanting to melt into a puddle from the feels :')

But as for the request, could I ask for Angel and [REDACTED] redecorating his appartment? Getting rid of the gaudy furniture once and for all!

Don't forget to drink water and take breaks whenever you need to! My brain is also 105% filled with this skrunkly but the trick is to keep two neurons in a cell reserved for this >:] /silly

HEHE I’ve been ok! Hope you are too!! <3 thank u for appreciating my (deranged) brainrotting fic c: the suffering is my favorite part. I’m drinking lots of water cause summer hates my ass. 💖 Also sorry this is long I am clearly not winning at the "be normal" challenge.

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Redecorating

“This one?”

The dark haired man peered at the laptop in your hands for a long moment. “It's… nice.”

“Yes…? You called the last three couches nice, too. Any other thoughts?” You gently goaded your partner.

Choosing new furniture with [REDACTED] was supposed to be easy. You'd pick something, and he'd agree. Except you wanted it to feel like home for both of you. He didn't have to say the mushy, obvious line: as long as you were there, it was home. So progress was challenging with some things. You were sitting together on the current couch—the ugly, lifeless one that came with his apartment for some reason. 

His brow crinkled as he searched for different words. Those soft blue eyes went back and forth across the screen until he said, “It’s cozy yet functional.”

“Did you just summarize the description to me?”

He confessed to the crime with a sigh. “Angel, all I think when I look at it is you. And how cute you'd look sitting on it. Like y’do right now.”

“I'm always cute. Focus on the couch, please. Not me,” you insisted.

“No promises.”

“Let's see…” You had to find some way to get through to them. An idea came to mind that you knew he wouldn't like very much, but you had to try. “Pretend we're not dating. Or maybe I don't exist? You come home—don't make that face! I said pretend—so, you come home after a very terrible day and you see this couch. Is it nice then?”

[REDACTED] still made that face as he answered you. “Annoying as fuck to clean.”

It was progress. You didn't want to dwell on why that would be what they thought about after getting home. “Did the first one I showed you seem annoying to clean?”

“Mm... a bit.” They reached forward to change the webpage back for another look. “Y’never showed me these.” 

You leaned over to see what he was talking about. There were a few humongous bean bag chairs on the furniture wish list you’d made. “I just thought they looked fun to take a nap in. But I’m not sure we’d both fit, so it’d be silly," you explained and tapped the mouse to continue skimming through your other selections. “We can think about the couch later. I found some wall art that doesn’t look like it came from a dentist’s office.”

His eyes carefully followed the scrolling page until the bean bags disappeared at the bottom of the screen, but he didn’t protest.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

The new furniture had arrived—and been efficiently assembled by your boyfriend, despite your protest—while you were at the library, so you were excited to get home. [REDACTED] held one hand over your eyes as he unlocked the apartment’s door.

“I already know what all the furniture looks like, Ren.” Even so, you didn’t wave their hand away.

You could hear the door click as he guided you into the foyer. “I may have added a few extra things,” he hummed while you blindly struggled and failed to take off your shoes. “Actually… close your eyes f’me.”

“O—kayy?!” Just as you closed your eyes the floor slipped away under you, replaced by familiar arms cradling you to their chest. His quiet footsteps barely echoed against the marble as you got your wits about you. The living room wasn’t that far, so you were certain where he took you without seeing anything. You just didn’t know where exactly in the room.

They turned and came to a stop, rooted in place for a moment as if thinking to themself. “Y’gonna scream if I drop you?” 

“...Yes. Maybe.”

Without another word he let go. There wasn’t enough time to scream as you immediately landed against plush fabric with the faint crinkle of something below it. The fabric crinkled some more as you felt your shoes being taken off.

“Can I open my eyes yet?” you asked. You could already tell what one of the ‘extra things’ was. It felt like heaven.

“Sure, love.” Their voice was a little farther away than you expected. Probably from hurrying to put your shoes in the closet.

You found yourself nestled on one side of the room, with a perfect view of his handiwork.

A couch that was easy to clean, in a color you insisted he decide on, draped with a luxurious looking blanket that wasn’t in your list. A coffee table with rounded corners so they wouldn’t keep hitting their leg on it. Some wall art of Attack on Giants—with extra pieces from a show you sort of recognized, but definitely suited the man's tastes. A few shelves to show off merchandise from another of your favorites. And the enormous, navy blue bean bag he’d so rudely dropped you in moments ago.

Your darling hacker stepped in from the foyer and tossed their hoodie onto the new couch. “Everything good?” he asked, piercings pulling up in a smile.

“I think I love it.” Your eyes scanned the room again and eventually landed on the pictures. “And I love that you added your own stuff.” It didn’t seem to be a clone of your apartment that he just happened to live in, like you worried about. “What about you?”

“S’better than before. ‘Course, the best part is that I don’t have t’see some shitty couch when I open the door—I get to come home to you, trapped in a bean bag.” He stood up and walked over, eyeing you playfully from above. “Comfortable?”

You nodded, then immediately yelped when he fell forwards. Just before you were squished, he caught himself on tattooed arms, caging you in the crinkly, soft material. You only felt some of their weight on you like a heavy blanket. A soft laugh slipped past your lips as he got comfortable himself, clinging to you as best he could while you both sank further into the depths of the bean bag. It’d be impossible to get out.

You wiggled your legs, straining to even find the damn floor. No doubt a futile effort, you had to sigh, “At least we both fit on it."

[REDACTED] didn’t speak, already yawning from the exhaustion of setting everything up before meeting you at work. The walk to and from the library certainly didn’t do him any favors, either. In a matter of seconds, he was fast asleep in what surely felt akin to a nest, all four lanky limbs wrapped around you like a snake.

[squiddy-god]

Makes you look stupid

Ratio x reader

I love him your honor- Dr ratio the man that you are *dreamy sigh* anyways this is smth I wrote because I love him and had this idea in my head for a while

Cw : reader is ratios assistant, enemies to lovers but it's really not, ratio refusing to admit he's kinda a simp, kissy kissy smooch smooch 💋

♥︎REQUEST ARE OPEN♥︎ don't be shy, send request for any of the fandoms on my fandom list, you can even recommend shows/games if they aren't there. Or even if you just want to chat! Anon is also always open!

Insufferable, detestable, intolerable, the very definition of aggravating is what you were in the vast expanse of veritas ratio’s mind. The man who seemingly knew everything was for once stumped to a single question- why in the world did he keep you around? The ugly truth of the matter being that perhaps as the problem persists day after day, that he is the problem. Arguing, bickering, snipping at one another like two rabid dogs until you both inevitably both storm off or realize you had both come to the same conclusion 34 snide comments ago. Idiocy, something only a nanometer short of straight loonacy is what the doctor compared you too, and yet with every argument, debate, and quorall he would return, asking your opinion as his assistant. What's more he never fired you, claiming that despite your lacking and many blatant flaws, none of which he could list besides his near constant headache, you were the most adequate in his eyes to be his assistant. In a sea of idiots so vast he feared its depths, you were an island. Competent, capable, sensible. So you stuck together, knowing even in his anger that this was not a chance he could forsake- and you knowing that even though his words were harsh, they were not necessarily all meant.

His students quite frankly wonder themselves why you haven't quit, “divorced him” they say, remarking on the bickering. You did like the Dr. for all his many flaws, of which you can only sight your near constant headache, he was brilliant, for all of his eccentricities, he held in equal parts an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, genius, maverick, The Doctor veritas ratio. Deep down there was a part of you that wanted to hear him on the rare occasion he had nothing but praise to sing, even with his harsh criticism you knew he held you in high esteem- “the worst part about idiocy is that you cannot explain it to an idiot” well he had no problem explaining it to you, so clearly he didn't mean half of the words he said. The job was also easy enough, though you have heard that you have far more duties than any other aid or assistant. Grading papers under his eagle eyed supervision to ensure you weren't too lenient, answering questions when he felt as though the students needed an example of someone not entirely moronic, passing out papers, printing, hading work back, running back and forth between the library, his class, and his office, most astonishingly however was that on the exceptionally rare occasion that he was absent from his lectures, you were to be the only one permitted to substitute. A thick heavy binder of information to cover and detailed instructions made the process fairly easy, although when the others gaze appon the monstrosity of a codex they go pale. It could also be said that the bickering and arguments were almost entertaining if they didn't boil your blood. The slight cracks in the doctor's elegantly crafted mask, and even better the twitch of his brow and vein popping in his forehead when the mask was off. 

“Oh?And I won't find it short one paper? Or that one has missed being graded by your astute eyes?” his voice is dripping in sarcasm that makes your blood run hot and bitter. “That was a small one time mistake, must you continue to bring it up?” hmmm, he didn't like when you clench your jaw so hard you speak through gritted teeth, he much preferred when you were relaxed, lips slightly parted in a sigh- why his thoughts turn to this he hadn't a clue. A lie he told himself. Really he knew, and it infuriated him, it had kept him awake the night before. He had kept himself awake actually, all so that he could avoid the dreams that plagued his racing mind, of you, of the way you walk, the length of your stride and how your mind was just so…so…intriguing to him. Arguments sparked out of his pride holding him back from simply picking your brain apart like a normal person would- with questions and conversation. Even now as your jaw clenched and eye twitched he wanted to smooth the hard lines of annoyance into something softer. It aggravated him, the fleeting touches, the rare moments of calm and peace, the times he would give in and simply talk without the unneeded critique, how the one thing he didn't want to think about, to analyze, would not leave his mind.

“Perhaps if you would focus instead of dodling around like some lost stupid puppy I wouldn't have any shortcomings to point out and yet-” you cut him off just as quickly as he retorts.  “oh Aeons spare me the lecture- maybe the reason you can't take your head out of your ass is because its so over inflated-” 

Today had been exhausting, the constant back and forth coupled with how the good Dr. ratio seemed to have woken up in the most perplexing mood that had your mind reeling. Was he in a bad mood? A good one? You honestly couldn't tell and the stone face he wore was not helping. One paper short passing out an assignment? A scolding remark on your inability to focus. Trying to reach a book he had requested from the upper shelves? A gentle hand ghosting on your waist as he grabs it himself before sitting down again. Another invitation to a chess game you know you will lose? A silence devoid of his usual commentary about your lack of strategy. “Here, they are all graded-and yes i made sure to follow your guide lines” you say answering his question before he can even ask it.

“Already out of arguments? Resorting to such crude remarks like a simpleton- to believe i worry over you” you scoff leaning on your palm to lean closer to where he sits in his office chair. “Oh such a saint- you are capable of feeling- oh look at me, dr ratio i just can do anything” you mock as your eye twitches, the smug satisfaction on his face as he looks you over only goading you. “To think this fool is what I lose my sleep to- no, correction, I can't think. because you don't think- you are as incapable of complex thought as an apple- in fact” he leans in as if to mock you further, but his eyes don't mean it, too focused on other things then the mockery you have made of him. 

“Why you arrogant self absorbed prick- if you are losing sleep wondering about how to provoke me further then you are a fool- gah! You are so impossible!” his hand flys up to grab your jaw in a firm but non painful grip “i would watch it, afterall i don't see any fool here but you” his anger is rising, annoyance and this maddaning aggravation you pester him with swimming in his eyes barley distracting from the fact that for the past 5 minutes of your little spat, his eyes have been firmly locked to your lips. You smirk, unable to resist aggravating him even more you grab his wrist, hands barely managing to connect at the fingertips, “oh ho if i didn't know any better i'd say you���d caught feeling” you don't miss the way his eyes widen slightly, that stone faced smirk wavering for a fraction of a second. “Look at you veritas~ you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid” he couldn't decide which he was feeling more of, rage that you were right- that he did want to kiss you and that it was making him look stupid, or rage that you had the nerve to call him of all people a stupid fool.

Your eyes widened, body jerking forward slightly as his hand swiftly went from squishing your face to cradling the back of your neck, bringing you forward until you felt the softness of his lips against yours. The kiss was hungry, as if he wanted to steal the air from your lungs, his teeth biting your bottom lip only to pull away when your mouth parted slightly to allow what he wanted. “Now who is the one who looks stupid” aeons did he look proud of himself, smug haughty satisfaction plastered on his face as if it had been carved there. His arms retracted to fold crossed against his broad chest. Meanwhile you stood leaned over, shell shocked with your mouth open in surprise. Speechless. “I rather like you this way, too stunned by your own stupid game to speak. Perhaps I will have to do this more often.” 

“Oooooo~ so you still wanna kiss me soooo bad~big bad dr ratio has a little crush like a idiot~” you tease leaning in to pester him, draping your arm over his shoulder and poking his cheek. 

His brow twitched, the corner of his mouth pulling into an annoyed smirk as he contemplated kicking you out of his office, but you both knew he wasn't going to do that. 

[lenoraslament]

Infatuated (Tom Riddle X y/N Reader)

Part of @thatdammchickennugget Hogmarch challenge. Prompt 5 “amortentia” and “is that why you did that? Back there?

2.8k words Comedy/Angst/Obsessive Romance/Toxic Love

For all my fellow delulus

You have been Tom’s friend for years, waiting patiently for him to notice you. Completely obsessed over him. Finally at a party you spill all your secrets...

His letters are long elegant strokes, you lick your lips as his fingers move across the page. His dark brows are knitted together over his perfect eyes. The way his lips purse in concentration, makes the breath in your lungs hitch.

Unwittingly you put your thumbnail in your mouth, gnawing softly as you try to resist the urge to launch yourself across the study table and beg him to touch you.

Your eyes are still studying his hands as they write in his notebook. You consider what they may feel like wrapped around your hair, your throat. A thumb dragging across your lips or nestled between your thighs softly stroking your-

“Quite alright Y/N?” his voice is calm, soft so unlike the raging heat inside of you.

“Yes. Quite Riddle” you say with a flustered smile as you quickly snap back to. You turn the page of the potions textbook in front of you.

You dare not meet his gaze, instead you return to the mask you’ve kept around him. Uninterested, bored even. That’s how you managed the rarity of his company.

Most girls threw themselves at him willingly, eagerly. Flirting, sending him love notes, even daring to be forward enough to ask him out. Fools.

He laughed in their face, raising his eyebrow and shaking his head. The attractive outliers would end up in his bed, being politely swept under the rug in the morning.

You however, have outlasted all of them. You, his study partner, his constant companion, his friend. You knew a measured man like Tom Riddle needed to be approached with careful grace and finesse.

Years you had laid in wait. Waiting for him to notice you across the library table, sitting at his side in the great hall. Pining for any crumb of attention he tossed your way, never enough to keep you fed. Only making you hungrier.

Small moments gave you hope. Fingers brushing over passed books, genuine smiles through laughter, once he stopped down to tie your shoe when your hands were full. His finger brushed your ankle, he looked up at you with a grin as you held in a scream.

Now you sit with him at the library, closer than any other conquest has ever gotten. Breathing his air, pretending to listen to him talk about potions theory this week when you’re really trying to count the flecks of green in his eyes.

Regulus, Enzo and Theo approach the table. Your mouth tightens at the intrusion, they give you an amused glance before turning to Tom.

They invite him to a party tomorrow night in the Slytherin common room, he gives a noncommittal answer. They banter back and forth. No one seems to remember that you’re also sitting there.

They laugh and talk about the party from two weekends ago. You watch boiling jealous rage brewing underneath your calm, stoic face.

Especially when Tom mentions a certain blonde Ravenclaw who he hooked up with. You glide your tongue over your teeth as you press your quill into the page indenting down so harshly, the paper splits.

Enzo, one of the kinder boys of the bunch, extends an invitation.

“Oh yea Y/N, if you want to come…you’re welcome to…” he says in such a polite tone, you almost roll your eyes.

You also give a soft “maybe”, your eyes quickly flicking over Tom’s face trying to read his expression. Does he want you there? Should you go? You try not to stare to long as you dig for some sort of sign in his face. But there is nothing.

Disappointed at his flat affect, you sigh. Too loudly. Fuck. He looks up at you.

“You should come” Tom says with a gentle smile.

“I might” you say as you stare at the textbook instead of him, absolutely mortified at your own behavior.

Theo, Enzo and Regulus leave whispering to each other out of earshot.

“Holy shit why did you invite Y/N!?”

“She’s Tom’s friend”

“More like Tom’s pet. She follows him around like she’s on a leash and she is fucking WEIRD”

They break into laughter, unbeknownst to you. You’re too enthralled in your study session.

“Please?!” You lurch over Pansy’s vanity, her eyes are unsympathetic. She takes an appraising look at your jeans and raggedy sweater.

“No.” She says bluntly,”you’re not used to wearing nice things, you’re going to ruin it.”

You groan and continue to plead your case.

“But I don’t have anything to wear”

She continues to stare at you unimpressed.

“It’s my first party!” You whine and she smirks.

“Why would you think I care?”

She had a fair point. You were hardly even cordial with her much less friendly.

“I’ll do your potions homework. For a week. Two weeks!” You say slamming your hand on her desk desperately.

She sighs loudly and stands up quickly. Her hand plunges into the closet where she retrieves a little black dress. She throws it in your face.

“Three weeks. One stain and I will Crucio you.” She snaps as she sits back down fixing her eyeliner.

The hot singe of your curling iron bit your finger and you suck on the sear mark. Damnit. You were near close to giving up but you looked in the mirror.

You looked…good. You managed to do a decent smoky eye with some lip gloss. You only had three curls left to make after burning your hand about a dozen times. Pansy’s dress fit you like a dream. The only thing that ruined your look was your low conservative heels. They were all you had. You really weren’t much of a going out sort of girl.

You make your way to the common room, the fingers of green neon light are reaching into the hall. The music vibrates under your feet, as you enter the common room you swear you’re transported into another planet.

Your classmates are spilled out all over the common room. Taking shots, laughing loudly, swaying to the music, bodies pressing closely together. You feel like you recognize everyone and no one.

Suddenly you’re overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people and activity. You feel small and alone. Am I experiencing ego death? You wonder but then a familiar voice makes jump.

“Well if it isn’t my big brother’s little stalker.” Mattheo’s voice crept up on you, your eyes widened as you looked around him to make sure that Tom wasn’t nearby.

“Quiet Mattheo” you snap as he gives you a wicked grin.

“You never come to parties,” he says ignoring your ourburst,”You look pretty hot….hoping to play interference?” He teases as your cheeks burn.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie,”I come to parties all the time”.

“Mhm”he grins watching your face.

“Oh look there’s Tom now” he says gesturing with his chin. You flip around quickly surveying the crowd.

Mattheo bursts into laughter,”You are so easy to fuck with”.

You turn back to him and smack his arm as he dies of laughter.

“Come on crazy,” he says with a chuckle,”let’s get you a drink so you can mellow out”.

He tugs your arm through the crowd and you reluctantly follow.

He hands you some punch that is actually delicious. You quickly finish your first cup and then two more. Anxiously sipping as Mattheo talks to you, not that you’re listening at all. Back and forth your eyes begin to hurt from squinting into the dimness of the party; hunting for Tom. You’ve never been this drunk before and you can feel your edges dissolving.

Finally you spot him, some girl a grade below you leans on wall. His forearm is pressed above her head as he leans over her, flirting. His hand brushes some hair out of her face. You’re not used to seeing him like this. Your stomach smolders in pain, for a moment you worry you’re having a heart attack. You can feel it splitting in your chest.

Mattheo’s hand presses into the small of your back, it’s the first sensation to register outside of the despair. You gasp and he gives you a funny look handing you your fourth cup of punch. You don’t even taste it, only tip your head back chugging while Mattheo stares at you in disbelief.

“You okay Y/N?” He leans over to you but you slap the empty cup against his chest handing it to him wordlessly. He takes it and tries in vain to stop you as you start walking towards where Tom and that usurper are standing.

“Hiii,” you say loudly as they both look at you, Tom with surprise and amusement. Her with horror and disgust.

“Hey Y/N, wow look at you…” Tom says raising his eyebrows , “Are you having fun?”

“Sooo much fun,” you slur batting your eyelashes. An awkward silence that you don’t pick up on ensues. You only grin dizzily” Tom. Can I talk to you?”

The girl looks perturbed at your intrusion, but Tom leans and whispers something in her ear making her smile.

He leads you to a corner of the party, the music dulled just enough so you don’t have to yell. The room spins a little but you focus on his eyes, his gorgeous eyes. Then his mouth and jaw. You sigh as the room spins again and it hits you all of a sudden that you’re talking. You’ve been talking this whole time. Your words collide, you have no idea what you have been rambling about. Tom nods patiently at you.

“So any way, I think that’s why we should be together” you finish knowing in your heart you must have made perfect sense. Because Tom Riddle is smiling.

His eyes are unreadable but his mouth is a grin.

That’s answer enough for you. You launch yourself forward, pressing your lips onto his. You can taste the fire whiskey on his mouth and you let out a soft moan as he catches you. Ten seconds of pure heaven before his hands on your shoulder pull you back gently.

He leads you to a chair and sits you down, stooping so he can meet you eye level.

“Wait here okay?” He asks his voice garbled. You nod with a slovenly smile

“Okay...I love you!” You yell after him loudly and he only chuckles and disappears.

To your dismay, it’s Mattheo who comes over to you a few minutes later.

“Alright cuckoo bird, time for bed” he says balancing a cigarette in his mouth as he pulls you up. His hands snakes around your waist.

“Where’s Tom?” You whine as he helps you out of the party. Your feet tripping over your heels.

“He wanted me to make sure you go to bed,” he mumbles as he tries to steady you.

“Awww he really cares,” you sigh dreamily. Mattheo rolls his eyes and leads you to your dorm. Halfway there he gives up on you balancing and throws you over his shoulder. Mattheo unlocks your door as he hums in agreement to your psycho babbles about his brother. He drops you on the bed and unbuckles the straps of your heels as you barely sit up sleepily.

“You okay?” He asks but you only curl onto your bed falling asleep. He sighs and turns the light off leaving back to the party.

No. No. NO! You sit up, stupid party dress still on. Your head pounding. No hangover can come close to the whirlwind of shame that pushed your head back into the pillow. You wanted to cry but nothing would come out but a muffled scream.

“Shut up!” you hear your roommates complain as you pulled the blanket over your head.

You wait an hour but the world refuses to crumble around you. So you reluctantly sit up and go shower. You finally cry in there.

Everything is ruined.

Right?

Could you play it off?

No. Stupid girl. You literally told him you loved him. You sob into your hand. Oh the inhumanity.

You dress and comb your wet hair. You can’t even make eye contact with the mirror.

As if you hadn’t suffered enough, you bump into a very freshly showered Mattheo in the hall outside of the bathroooms. He’s only wearing a towel around his waist, when he sees you his grin is devilish.

“There’s the little lush,”he said putting his tongue between his teeth.

You scrunch your nose at him,”Oh go put some clothes on. No one wants to see that.”

He may have water dripping from his curls, cascading down his impressively cut chest and abs, but you hate him. For the simple fact that he is not Tom.

“Oh am I happy to see you,” he teased leaning on the wall next to you,”so tell me, when you shamelessly admitted your love to Tom last night. Did you show him his name scribbled all over your notebook? Or did you wear the sweater you knitted out of his hair?”.

Your face crumpled into rage,”oh screw you Mattheo”.

You sigh when you wonder how bad it was, you don’t remember every thing you said. Although Mattheo is only joking, you know you do have a notebook with “y/n riddle <3” written on it from third year.

Mattheo bites his lip as he suppresses a chuckle,”Well, if you’re ready to go plan your wedding; he’s sitting in the common room right now”.

It takes 64 steps to walk from the bathroom to the common room. You know this because you have doubled back twice trying to build up the courage to finally see Tom. You can hear his quiet words muddled by the loud laughter of Enzo and Theo. Suddenly you feel a someone nudge you.

Regulus and now dressed Mattheo walk past you. Mattheo tosses you a wink as he speaks up.

“Hey look who I found!” He says loudly as he walks in the common room. You hiss for him to shut up as you follow him in.

Your face is already burning as you feel all their eyes fall on you. Okay….none of their eyes fall on you. Especially not Tom’s, his are pinned to Theo and Enzo who are discussing something intensely.

“Did you hear? What happened last night? So fucking crazy man” Theo says to Regulus and Mattheo.

Regulus sits on the arm of a chair,”nah what?”

“Someone handed out amortentia candies!” Enzo said laughing.

“Huh..really?” Mattheo said suspiciously. He looked over to you with an evil grin,”speaking of love…”

You cut him off, “Armortentia candies really?!” You say a little too loudly.

Enzo’s smile turns into a smirk,”Oh yea…chocolates. They were a rogue batch, it intensified love for the first person you saw”.

You don’t know what to say, your mouth hangs open and then shuts.

Tom turned towards you with a look of shocked realization,”Is that why you did that? Back there…”

You stand slack jawed, the idea rippling through your mind like heavens gate opening.

Tom only raises his brow at your silence,”at the party?”

“Yes!” you say eagerly feeling the weight of the world lifting off of your shoulders.

“I did have some chocolates at the party,”You continue and ignore Mattheo chewing on his tongue in the corner, squinting his eyes at you suspiciously.

You take a couple step towards where Tom stood next to Theo,” I must have um, yes and you were the first person…I saw ” you said trying not to blather on as the pieces of your lie came together.

He gives you a curious glance as if trying to read your expression.

You sheepishly shrug,”Gosh I am so humiliated”.

Is he falling for it? You can’t tell, your eyes peer into his searching.

Tom only put a friendly hand on your shoulder, “Forget about it” he said gently.

You nodded with a grateful smile,”Thanks Tom”.

“I was going to the library, care to join?” He asked removing his hand leaving you wanting as usual.

“Yes…let me get my books from my room,” you say. What luck. You can’t believe how close you were to ruining every thing. Fate itself must have made those Amortentia chocolates.

What you didn’t know is that Tom was watching you as you walked away. He knows perfectly well you didn’t eat any amortentia chocolates because there never were any. He started the rumor last night before he left the party.

Tom quite enjoys the little game you’ve been playing. He realized early on just how in love you were with him. At the same time he realized you couldn’t recognize when someone was using legilimency on you.

He loved to listen to the infatuated rantings in your head as he sat in the library with you, your mouth twitching as you lusted over him. The cute smile you would get as you strategized on the ways you could get him to notice you.

He remembers the day he bent down to tie your shoe, having to hide his own smile as he listened to the nuclear meltdown you had in your head as he purposefully grazed your ankle. It was so fun.

One day, he supposed, he would finally make a move on you. Sometimes it was hard to resist, as he listened to all the dirty thoughts spewing in your brain in the middle of class Iike his own personalized erotica. Last night at the party you finally snapped so he had to come up with the perfect excuse for your silly behavior. It wasn’t time for that yet.

Yes, one day he would finally take advantage of the crazy crush you’ve harbored for years. But not any time soon. He was too busy enjoying your quiet devotion, your obsession. No, Tom was not near ready to let that go.

______________

(Hehehee I never intended this to be more than a TMR one shot but I’m getting interested in exploring Mattheo’s relationship with Y/N in this fic 👀 any interest?)

[happilyhertale]

great! so this is kind of like an au but it's still set on the hotd universe. basically, I was wondering if you could do an aemond x fem!reader where their relationship is very similar to that of rhaenyra and harwin's relationship. reader is next in line to throne as she is rhaenyra's daughter. because of this, rhaenyra requests she has a knight for her daughter to watch over her and what not. enter aemond, the one eyed knight and son to alicent hightower.

the two eventually become smitten with eachother and form a secret relationship, with reader eventually falling pregnant with his child. some smut, angst and good ol' fluff. please? (also based on the song work song by hozier)

Sense of duty - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Minors do not continue reading!

Author’s note: Finally! Thank you, Anon, for this great request! I'm sorry it took so long! Nevertheless, it was fun to write this story. I hope you like it (: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 4.2 k

The long awaited second part

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Aemond!" you gasp as he lifts you onto the table that stands behind you. His hand is between your legs, making its way to your already wet folds.

"Aemond! I... I hear footsteps outside!" you try to sound convincing that it is too dangerous to have wild sex in the middle of the library, in the middle of the day.

But only a "Mmmhm..." sounds from him as he leaves hot kisses on your neck. His "Mmmhm..." is backed up by your moans.

"I have given instructions that we are to be left alone... study... No one comes into the library"

"But...", you can't continue, his fingers have reached their destination and they are stroking through your wet arousal. You grab his shoulders and groan. Immediately his lips are on yours to muffle your moans. Firm, circular movements he leaves on your clit. Your hands are on his trousers by now and open them. In no time at all you release him from his pants and let your hand glide over his pulsing length. His hiss from your first touch quickly turns into a deep moan.

You press his cock against your wet folds and let it slide through. He smirks at you, "We're a little impatient today, aren't we?"

You moan into his mouth, "...Because you made me wait too long!"

With one thrust he is inside you and you literally cry out. It's been too long since you felt his full length inside you. That you felt him fill you completely. The stretching is almost unpleasant at first, until it turns into the feeling of pure pleasure. Aemond puts his hand over your mouth to muffle your whimpers as he slides his hot length back and forth.

"Fuuck... you're so incredibly tight," he gasps in your ear.

You can only continue to whimper. Aemond grabs you by the waist and pulls you closer. He reaches another angle, thrusts deeper into you. He holds you tightly and slams your hips down hard on his cock. The library, usually such a quiet place, is filled with your moans and the sound of naked skin slapping against each other.

"A-Aemond... I'm close!" you moan. His lips crash onto yours and he kisses you wildly. He doesn't let up with his thrusts and his hand finds its way between your bodies. His fingers reach your clit again, rubbing it frantically.

You claw at his leather waistcoat for support. The table beneath you squeaks dangerously with each thrust he gives you. The familiar, much loved pressure builds in your lower belly. Your thighs, tight in Aemond's hands, begin to tremble. You moan out, but Aemond can't bring himself to muffle your moan, it spurs him on further to thrust into you. He notices how you keep clenching around his cock. His name keeps leaving your lips, like a soft prayer that fills the halls of the sept. As you come on his cock, Aemond also notices his lower belly tighten. He reaches for a linen cloth lying on the table. As the tug arrives in his balls, he leaves your warm core. His hand grips your thighs firmly, the consequences will still be visible tomorrow. He gasps and moans as he spreads his hot seed into the linen cloth.

You lean your head into the crook of his neck and gasp softly. He caresses your soft hair as you stand there for a while. Only your heavy breathing can be heard in the library. You spread soft kisses on his neck.

But it wasn't always like this between you.

You are y/n Velaryon and the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Your duty is to take the Iron Throne after your mother. The second woman ever to sit on a throne. Your father is Laenor Velaryon and just like your brothers Jace and Luke, you have inherited few traits from your father. But you have at least inherited your father's silver hair and your mother's purple eyes.

You live in King's Landing and want for nothing. Even now you regularly attend council meetings. Like your mother before, you hand out drinks to the councillors and try to learn something from the political discussions. Your grandfather Viserys I is always present and leads the discussions.

At one of these council meetings, your mother had once made the request that she wanted special protection for you. After all, you are the heir to the throne and you should have a personal knight by your side who will always protect you. You just looked at her irritatedly from a distance. She did not return your gaze.

Queen Alicent, who was also present, thought this was an excellent idea. It did not take long before the perfect knight seemed to be found. To be precise, it was at the next council meeting when Alicent announced that she had found someone perfect. Aemond Targaryen. Her son. Your uncle.

In shock, you knocked over a cup and all eyes were on you. Aemond's eyes were suddenly on you too, looking at you emotionlessly and with a hint of contempt. Now it was also clear to you why he was suddenly attending the meeting.

After a brief pause, Alicent continued. Since there are no betrothal offers for Aemond, this seemed an adequate task for him. And what would be a more honourable task than to protect the future queen?

You were not surprised that the betrothal offers for him did not materialise. He was rude, uptight, always in a bad mood and let everyone around him know how little he thought of them. He was just a terrible person. And he should now be responsible for keeping you safe at all times.

You were not convinced at all and went to your mother after the council meeting.

"Mother. This is unacceptable. Have you never realised what an unpleasant person he is?"

She just smiled at you, "Good. Then at least I'm convinced he won't be distracted and his attention will be on protecting you."

You just looked at her in disbelief, but from her look you saw that this matter was already decided for her and there was nothing more to discuss. Angrily you left her chambers. Aemond was also not enthusiastic at first, but let himself be convinced by his mother that it was an honourable task.

So that's how you started spending time together. Unwillingly, you could say. You never spoke much to each other. Only a "good morning" left your lips when he stood in front of your chambers in the morning, which was never answered with more than a slight bow of his head. In the evening it was no different. You wished him a good night and before you could close your door, you briefly saw him bow his head slightly again.

This changed when one morning he could not find you. He stood in front of your chambers, but you did not come out. After repeated warnings, he came to your chambers, but he could not find you. You were not in the anteroom, not in your bed and not in the adjoining bathroom. Panic rose in him and he briefly felt fear that something might have happened to you. Not because he was particularly afraid for you, but because he was afraid of failing in the task that had been imposed on him. At least that's what he told himself.

He immediately rushed out of your chambers and searched the entire keep and its gardens. You had disappeared. You were not to be found in any of the other chambers, the council chamber or any other hall. On the verge of despair, he passed the library. Actually, he wanted to go to the training yard and hoped that you had lost your way there. But as he passed the half-open door to the library, his gaze fell in and he saw you sitting there.

Calmly, you sat there in an armchair and read a book. For a short time his anger was forgotten. The morning sun shone through a window into the library. It shone right on you and made your silver hair almost glow. Even though he didn't want to, he paused for a moment and enjoyed the view. When he regained consciousness, he stormed into the library, "What are you doing here??"

Startled, you looked up, "Mhm, I don't know if this looks familiar, but I'm reading a book at the moment."

He breathed heavily.

"Did you run here?" you asked with raised eyebrows.

Aemond snorted, "I was looking for you! You were not in your chambers where I am to meet you in the morning!"

You had to smile, "Pardon me..."

But he interrupted you, "You can't just disappear unannounced!"

Your smile disappeared, "I left you a note. On my table. It said exactly where I was. But now that I know that it does not even look familiar to you when someone is reading, I should send a servant to you next time to give you my message verbally."

"There was no note," he hissed.

"'Right… So if we go to my chambers now and check... Then there wouldn't be a note?"

Aemond did not answer immediately. He hadn't looked on your table. Panic had gripped him and he had no longer been able to think rationally.

"What are you doing here early in the morning anyway?" he asked instead.

Normally you would tease him further. But you had such a relaxed morning, you didn't want to mess it up.

"I couldn't sleep and so I came here early in the morning"

Aemond frowned, "You come here when you can't sleep?"

You simply nodded, "It is quiet here and I can give myself over to my thoughts. Read something... It's peaceful here."

"I've never noticed that before... That you like to read," he said almost softly. His anger of a moment ago was almost forgotten.

You looked down at your book again, "Perhaps you weren't attentive enough...? Or perhaps you have simply overlooked it... like the note on my table"

Now Aemond had to smile slightly.

From that point on, you talked more. You began to enjoy the time together, it felt almost unforced.

You even had to admit to yourself that perhaps he wasn't such an unpleasant person after all. That underneath his hard, unpleasant shell, there was perhaps a pleasant core.

But still, the one thing you didn't tell each other was that you enjoyed each other's presence. You enjoyed the warmth that emanated from him. When he just sat next to you and you read. Likewise, you enjoyed watching him when he read. The way he would frown slightly from time to time. Or how he would gently move his thumb over his fingertips when he had read an interesting passage. It's the little things that made you curious about how his lips would feel on yours. If there would be a tingling sensation on your skin when he touches you with his long fingers.

But you would never tell him that.

Aemond was no different. Countless times he had only noticed after some time that he was staring at you. That he had lost himself in the way you kept running your fingers through your long hair while you devoured a book. How you clicked your tongue slightly when you didn't quite understand a passage and had to read it again. He wanted to hold you, touch you, even kiss you... but he would never confess it to you.

After a few moons had passed, a ball was on the agenda. There was a big secret about why this ball was taking place. You and Aemond were both not keen on the idea and had toyed with the idea of simply retreating to the library.

Aemond came to fetch you from your chambers that evening. When he stood at your door and you stepped out, he was momentarily speechless. He thought you were pretty, no question. But that evening you left him speechless. He just smiled at you slightly. You had returned his smile.

Together you went to the hall.

While the lords and ladies present danced, you enjoyed the food and drank.

You were in deep discussion with Aemond when a lord joined you at the table, "Prince Aemond. Princess y/n," he had bowed his head slightly.

You smiled at him, "Lord...?"

He smiled as well, "Lord Cregan Stark"

Aemond felt a slight twinge in his chest. He didn't like the way you smiled at each other at all. But he liked even less how that fact bothered him.

"I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance, Princess. I have longed for this day for a long time."

His direct manner did not make your smile disappear, "Oh? Is that so? I hope you are not disappointed"

"Certainly not. If all goes well, I will leave the capital and have found a betrothed"

He smiled briefly at you and bowed his head slightly as he moved away from the table again. You didn't quite understand what Lord Cregan meant by that until you noticed your mother watching you from across the table.

You stood up from the table. Aemond's gaze followed you.

You walked towards your mother. She smiled sweetly at you as you sat down beside her.

"Mother... would you like to tell me why this ball is being held? And why Lord Cregan is approaching me? Talking about finding a betrothed?"

Rhaenyra sighed, "You will have to marry eventually. You will have to father children. You will need an heir. For succession to the throne."

"And then you sell me to the North???" you were horrified.

"Don't be silly. I'm not selling you to the North. Lord Cregan would move here"

You just snorted.

"Lord Cregan isn't bad looking after all. You could do worse. And from the looks of it, you did get on well," she took your hand gently in hers.

"Mother. I'm not going to marry him," was the only thing you said in reply.

She looked into the celebrating crowd, your hand still in hers, "The betrothal is as good as decided. You should spend some time with him tonight. Get to know him a little."

You looked at her, aghast. But then a couple of lords joined you at the table to talk to your mother.

You left the hall in a huff.

Aemond hadn't taken his eyes off you the whole time and had sensed immediately that something was wrong. He got up from the table and followed you.

He called after you in the corridor, but you did not stop. When you were in your chambers, you leaned against the door from inside. Aemond stood on the other side of the door and knocked.

"Y/n... Please let me in. Talk to me…", he almost begs you.

You exhaled heavily and wiped away a tear that left your eye.

Slowly you opened the door.

He came in immediately and closed the door behind him. Seeing that tears were in your eyes, all he wanted to do was hold you, but he pulled himself together.

Instead he whispered to you, "What happened?"

"My mother... She wants to betroth me to Cregan Stark... She wants me to produce heirs..." you whispered.

Aemond stiffened. After a moment's silence, he spoke softly on, "...You shall go to the north...?"

You shook your head slightly, "No... he would come here"

He just nodded. But his chest ached. He knew this day would come, but still he had not expected it.

When all of a sudden you stepped towards him, "I don't want to marry him Aemond... I don't want to!"

You looked at the floor and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. It broke his heart to see you like that. But he also knew the importance of doing his duty.

"I know... But you will have no choice," he whispers.

How he hated himself for that sentence.

When all of a sudden you looked up, "Yes... I will."

You stood on your tiptoes and hesitantly, yet determinedly, let your lips slide onto his. Your hands rested on his firm chest.

He did not expect that. At first he had not returned the kiss, but finally he could not help himself. His arms wrapped around your body and he pressed you against him.

"Aemond... claim me... Make me yours..." you whispered when you briefly interrupted the kiss.

He looked irritated, "Y/n... what?"

You took his face in your hands, "I want you Aemond. Not a lord from the north…"

Aemond couldn't believe his ears. He hesitated for a moment but let his lips slide back to yours.

That night he claimed you, and there have been many more times since.

You are still in the library. Aemond has pulled you to him on the sofa, he caresses your back gently.

"I should take you to your chambers," he whispers in your ear.

You gently stroke his chest and nod, "Will you stay with me tonight?"

He smiles, "If my princess commands me to."

You kiss him and murmur against his lips, "She does... she hasn't had enough of you yet"

He chuckles briefly.

Slowly he stands up and pulls you with him. You go to your chambers.

Once in your chambers, Aemond closes the door behind you after making sure no one is in the corridor. You are already walking towards your bed. Slowly you open your dress and let it slide to your feet. You step out of the dress and sit down on the bed. You sit with your knees bent and lean back a little, supporting yourself on your arms. You watch as Aemond walks towards you, slowly opening his waistcoat. You smile at him. A smile also curls his lips as he takes off his waistcoat. Arriving at the bed, he pulls you to the edge of the bed by the underside of your knees. You can't help but chuckle. He stands between your legs as he leans down to you, his hand resting on your cheek and he kisses you passionately. More kisses follow as he guides you onto your back. He hovers above you and you pull your leg over his hip. He still has his trousers on and the feel of the firm fabric on your bare skin makes you shiver. He presses his already great arousal against your wet folds. Your hands slide down his defined abdomen and you try to undo his trousers, but his fingers, which have now reached your wet folds, distract you. You gasp as his middle finger slides through your wetness.

"Fuck," he groans, "you're so wet... how did I get so lucky?" You just whimper as his fingers continue to rub into your arousal.

Finally, you manage to open the trousers and do not hesitate to reach in. You embrace his full length and he hisses at the touch. You let your hand slide up and down, he moves his hips to accommodate your movements. You pull his trousers down further, he helps you. Your naked skin lies on top of each other. His cock is coated with your moisture. Slowly he lets it slide through your folds, you whimper again.

"Mmhmm... you are really impatient today," he whispers to you.

"If you would do your duty better, I wouldn't be."

He just chuckles.

With one thrust he is inside you all at once. You gasp, his length filling you completely again.

He thrusts forward into you and your moans sound in unison. But you need more.

"Aemond... I... I..."

"Tell me what you need," he gasps.

"... Need you deeper... Closer!"

He doesn't hesitate long and moves your ankle over his shoulder, stretching you out and deepening the angle even more. You moan loudly and are joined by his deep grunts. You can't bring yourself to suppress your moan. The pleasure you feel is too great right now. You reach for his arms. Aemond thrusts into you with full intensity, you are almost sure that he will split you in two. The obscene sounds of your bodies fill your chambers. You are completely dazed and cannot think clearly as you grab his neck and pull him down to you. You kiss wildly, his thrusts do not let up. You are panting into each other's mouths.

"Thank you.. for fucking me, Aemond... I need... I need you so badly Aemond...", you murmur against his lips. You feel him grin slightly, "Anything for my princess..."

Aemond increases the speed of his thrusts. His balls keep slapping against your ass, and by now they are soaked with your arousal. The sweat of your bodies mixes. It smells of pure sex.

You feel yourself about to come, "Fuck... Aem...", but by then you are already clenching hard around his cock and taking him over the edge with you. You come together. Aemond is overwhelmed by his sudden climax and can't pull his cock out of you in time. His mind is blank, he just keeps thrusting into you and savoring his climax. You are both breathing heavily as his thrusts subside. Carefully, he takes your leg off his shoulder and drops onto the bed next to you. With great effort, you turn to him and gently kiss his lips. He holds you tightly in his arms.

"I have your seed inside me...," you whisper, still breathing heavily.

He nods slowly, "Apologies... I was overwhelmed," he pants, "I'll get you some moon tea tomorrow at noon."

You just nod slightly. He gently caresses your skin as you lay your head on his chest. Your eyes are closed and you just listen to his meanwhile soft breathing.

As Aemond slowly tries to sit up, you push him back onto the bed, "Stay... Stay tonight..." you whisper.

Aemond feels twinges in his chest area. Pleasant twinges...

He wraps his arms around you tighter, "Anything my princess commands me to do...", he whispers.

The next morning Aemond has persuaded you to go for a walk in the garden. You have done this often since the ball a few weeks ago. You strolled through the garden and kissed each other, hidden behind trees and hedges. You and Aemond have not spoken further of your betrothal to Lord Cregan. You do not know how Aemond feels about it. But it is clear to you how this story will end. You will not marry Lord Cregan. Every time your mother mentions your betrothal in a conversation, you end the conversation. You assure her that you will marry, but your mother is not aware that you want to marry Aemond. And since he has taken your maidenhood, she will have no choice but to agree.  

Suddenly a servant approaches you and automatically you take a step away from Aemond. Your mother wants to speak to you and you are expected in the council chamber.

Together with Aemond you go there.

As you enter the council chamber, you see your mother and Alicent standing there. They are talking to each other but stop immediately as you enter.

"Mother? You sent for me?"

Aemond is standing right next to you.

Your mother smiles at you, "My girl..." she sighs, "The maidens have informed me that you have not bled for a little more than a moon."

Your breath catches and is accompanied by a nausea that overcomes you. You notice how Aemond stiffens beside you.

You are at a loss for words.

"Mother...", you stammer.

She interrupts you, "Have you lost your maidenhood?"

You look startled. From the look on your mother's face, you cannot tell how she will react. You look back and forth between Alicent and your mother. They both look at you questioningly.

Somehow you hope that Aemond will say something, that he will stand by it. There is an oppressive silence in the air.

You swallow hard and watch your hands as you nervously play with your fingers, "I... Mother...," you look up, "…yes."

Her eyes grow wide and Alicent holds her breath, looking like she's about to faint.

As your mother takes a step towards you, "Who took your maidenhood?? What were you thinking?! What about your betrothal?!"

Your throat tightens and aches, your eyes burn, from the tears that well up in your eyes... You don't know what to say. You have not thought this scenario through that far.

When Alicent has regained her composure, she suddenly intervenes, "Aemond! Why didn't you do something?? You were supposed to be watching her!"

Again, this oppressive silence spreads.

Tears come to your eyes again and you look down at your fingers again, but now you hear Aemond.

"Mother... I did.. I did something," he stammers.

Alicent just looks at him with wide eyes questioningly. You hear him breathing heavily.

But now he sounds more confident, "I took her maidenhood, mother. It's my child"

Startled, you look to the side, but Aemond does not return your gaze.

He takes your hand and now looks at your mother, "And I will marry her"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @blue2023

@targaryen-dynasty

[spriteofmushrooms]

Wei Wuxian sipped the wine Lan Zhan brought from Gusu in one of Jinlin Tai's many ostentatious peony gardens. He had found a branch in a ginkgo tree that was high enough that no one should see him at a glance where he still had a good view of the moon between the yellow leaves. It wasn't the worst way he could have spent his time at the Discussion Conference. Lan Zhan, for example, had to be xiandu. What could possibly be worse than that?

"Jin Ling, what's the matter now?"

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes. Really, Jiang Cheng is such a wronged mother. He plays his part like a grand madam.

"Do you think Zizhen-ge is a better sect leader than I am?" Jin Ling hissed.

"What?" Wei Wuxian looked down. Through the branches, he could see Jiang Cheng's silver lotus guan glimmer with his head shake. "Where did you get that from? A-Ling, sit and explain."

"You complimented him in front of everyone," Jin Ling grumbled, but he flounced onto the bench.

Jiang Cheng folded himself gracefully, careful of the drape of his robes. "It's his first conference. All I did was walk him through presenting himself, like a junior should be treated."

"You liked his proposal."

"You like it, too, brat. Besides, a little support in the beginning keeps the old men at bay."

Jin Ling knocked his shoulder against Jiang Cheng's. "So it's not because you always wanted a poet for a nephew?"

Wei Wuxian couldn't see it, but he could imagine Jiang Cheng's face. But when Jiang Cheng spoke, it didn't match the tone he expected. Sad, but trying to joke. "After the poems Zixuan wrote?"

"A-Die wrote poems?"

Oh, oh, Wei Wuxian wanted to leave.

"Once he became enlightened, he was devout. 'Rain pearls on lotus leaves which bow gracefully/Thoughts of you collect and overwhelm me.' A-jie blushed for weeks." Jiang Cheng sighed. "The Jinlin Tai library should have them all somewhere. Please don't let Ouyang-gongzi read them."

Jin Ling huffed a laugh and threw his arm around Jiang Cheng's shoulder, which is when Wei Wuxian realized Jin Ling was taller and broader now. He hadn't seen them side by side in years. A light breeze stirred the gingko leaves and lifted the scent of peonies.

"Hanguang-jun didn't murder anyone with his eyes today," Jin Ling chirped. "Do you think he's starting to like politics?"

"Don't."

"Jiujiu..."

"He's the xiandu, Jin Ling. What do you think would happen if anyone overheard you disrespect him, especially while hosting the conference?"

Jin Ling groaned and threw his head back dramatically, jostling Jiang Cheng. Briefly, Wei Wuxian amused himself by imagining what Yu-furen would have made of her grandson. Then he gently slapped himself. "You're so boring, jiujiu! It's not like he respects either of us."

Jiang Cheng snapped, "I didn't realize you aspired to be so immature and irresponsible."

Immature? Irresponsible? Jiang Cheng had a lot of nerve! Wei Wuxian would tell him so, but then he would have to admit to hiding in a tree. Jiang Cheng would be so annoying about it, and Wei Wuxian really didn't want to bother!

"Aiya, jiujiu, if I can't complain to you about him, who can I? No one else sees what he's like."

Jiang Cheng leaned against Jin Ling, but then he ruined the picture by saying, "It's good that most people can't tell. If half of the sects ran to Zewu-jun with complaints about his beloved didi, he would leave seclusion before he was ready."

They were quiet for a few moments. Suddenly, Jin Ling burst out, "Do you really not care?"

Jiang Cheng paused. "About?"

"You know I spend time with—him!"

"You're sixteen, Jin Ling. Your memory should be good enough to remember every other time you've poked at this. And use his name; he doesn't actually appear every time you call."

"Wei-qianbei misses you!" Jin Ling grabbed Jiang Cheng's shoulders and started to gently shake him back and forth, but then Jiang Cheng pushed his hands away and stood.

"As you are clearly feeling better, I will leave first," Jiang Cheng hissed.

Jin Ling zipped in front of Jiang Cheng, blocking his path. "Jiujiu, I don't understand you at all! You want to talk to him, and he wants to talk to you. Why are you waiting?"

"He wants to talk to me so much that I learned about his elopement from gossiping disciples? He wants to talk to me so much that he lives in Cloud Recesses, which he hates? He wants to talk to me so much that he ignores Lan Wangji's hand on Bichen every time we meet?" With each question, Jiang Cheng prowled forward, and Jin Ling backed up.

"I don't think he hates Cloud Recesses..."

That's right; Wei Wuxian didn't. Lan Zhan was there, for one thing. And the juniors!

"That's because you don't fucking know him," Jiang Cheng snapped.

"Oh, and you do? When you won't even talk to him?"

"I was his assignment, Jin Ling. He either played with me or starved; he either trained to be the best or lost his position." Jiang Cheng laughed, dark and mean. "Not that I noticed."

"Jiujiu..."

"Let him live the life he wants, Jin Ling. Let me go to bed."

[c-e-d-dreamer]

When We Howl, the Moon Will Cower: Chapter 6

A/N: Happy Day 2 of @nessianweek! Sometimes, yearning is looking at another male who clearly loves his wife and going huh, why do I suddenly feel jealous? 😂 But please enjoy this update! And enjoy Nesta and Cassian being idiots. Because there's nothing quite like clearly having feelings for your husband/wife, but refusing to acknowledge it

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Cassian

Cassian never thought he’d see the day where he visits the estate of the Vanserra coven not once but twice, and especially not within the span of the same day. And after today, he can confidently say he never wants to be between these four walls again. The library looks exactly the same as it did the previous evening, but the tension in the room is even thicker than it was when the Archeron sisters were scrying for the Cauldron. It sits like a weight on everyone’s shoulders. Writhes in the shadows and curls around Cassian’s chest, threatening to crush the air right out of his lungs.

Lucien paces back and forth across the room, practically leaving a simmering trail of ash beneath his feet the way he stalks across the rug. It’s almost strange seeing the male so out of sorts. Every time that Cassian has ever seen the witch, he’s looked impeccable, not a single piece of clothing or hair out of place.

The same can’t be said for the moment.

Lucien’s red hair is a mess where it hangs around his face, tangled and knotted from the way he’s been repeatedly running his fingers through the long strands. His skin is unusually ragged and pale, dark circles clinging beneath his bloodshot eyes. He’s long discarded his jacket into a crumpled heap in one of the large armchairs, his shirt creased and wrinkled where it hangs only half tucked into his pants.

“We’re wasting time,” Lucien growls out for the second time tonight, turning his attention toward his brother.

“I told you, we have to be smart about this,” Eris reminds him, his voice low with warning.

“Every moment we sit around here talking in circles, the Mother only knows what Hybern is doing to Elain.”

Sitting as close to her as he is, Cassian doesn’t miss Nesta’s almost imperceptible flinch at Lucien’s words. She’s been quiet and the picture perfect of calm ever since Baz informed them of the news about Elain, but Cassian has gotten to know his wife too well since their marriage. He knows that the press of her lips conceals the sharp words sitting on her tongue that she’s holding back. Knows that her narrowed blue eyes hide the fire burning just behind them.

He knows that deep down, she’s afraid.

Knows that her straightened spine and held back shoulders are the armor she wears to cover her concern. Knows that the way her fingers flex, her arm jumping back to brush against his own, means her own mind is conjuring images the same if not worse than whatever Lucien might be imagining.

It’s practically instinct, the way Cassian reaches a hand out toward her. His fingertips just barely brush along the back of Nesta’s hand before he thinks better of himself. Before he catches himself. He pulls his hand away again, fingers curling tight until his nails cut into the palm, the pain a reminder of himself, and resettles his hands back in his lap again.

“You’re assuming the worst,” Rhys pipes up from where he and Feyre sit. “They’re probably just keeping her to use as a bargaining chip.”

“Probably?” Lucien snaps, whirling on the vampire. “You expect me to be alright with probably?”

Eris sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And what would you have us do? Storm through Hybern’s gates?”

“Yes. They have my wife.”

He says the words with no hesitation, with a sheer surety and determination that has Cassian tilting his head curiously. He’d noticed the way Lucien and Elain seemed unusually close, strangely comfortable in each other’s gravity the other night. The way the two seemed less like two people who had married for an alliance and more like two people who actually chose one another.

But this, watching Lucien now, watching his reaction, is somehow different than the other night, something more than just amicability. It’s almost like…

Cassian refuses to finish the thought, refuses to give the notion any sort of weight. But it’s still there, niggling in the back of his mind. It still has an ache threatening to build and sink its roots into Cassian’s chest. Threatening to twist and shift into begrudging anger.

“We don’t even know for sure that’s where Elain was taken,” Nesta finally speaks up, her voice surprisingly cool and calm. “Our best bet is having Feyre and I scry again for her before we make any rash decisions.”

Lucien scoffs, but Eris nods his agreement at her words, pulling back out a map and spreading it across the table. Nesta stands up, taking a moment to fix the skirts of her dress before she strides forward. She holds her hand out, waiting until Eris hands over the bowl of bones and stones, to turn expectantly toward her younger sister. Feyre hesitates for only a moment before she stands as well, stepping over to Nesta and the table.

“What if it sees us too?” Feyre asks quietly, Cassian’s wolf hearing still picking up the question.

“We’re not looking for it,” Nesta tells her, taking Feyre’s hand in her free one. “We’re looking for our sister.”

Feyre swallows hard, but she nods her head, squaring her shoulders and focusing on the map before them both. Both sisters close their eyes, murmuring whatever scrying incantation they need, the words still so unfamiliar to Cassian. Just like the previous night, the temperature in the room seems to drop, the air stilling and prickling with static electricity. Cassian scoots forward in his seat, keeping his eyes pinned on Nesta.

He swears he can see a slight tremble to her hand where she has her closed fist extended over the map, can see where the blood’s been cut off, her skin pale from the tight grip she has over the bones and stones in her palm. Her whole body stiffens, and Cassian almost rises from his seat before he catches himself again, closing his own hands into fists to keep himself together.

There’s nothing comforting about the silence that settles over the room. It’s more like a yawning void with the promise of teeth and claws. It reminds Cassian of when he was young, of those dark nights in the woods where he swore something watched him back from between the tall, shadowed bark of the trees. Something wrong and twisted.

A minute passes.

And then another.

Something changes in the air, a crackling spark that steals the breath even from Cassian’s lungs. Nesta’s breath starts to come fast and hard, her lip curling back as she pants between her gritted teeth, and Cassian can’t take it anymore, pushing to his feet and striding toward the table. There’s a small noise, one that Cassian can only describe as pure terror, but it doesn’t come from Nesta.

It comes from Feyre.

The youngest Archeron gasps, pressing her free hand to her heaving chest as she all but curls over the table. “I… I can’t…” She turns her attention toward Nesta, blue eyes wide with fear. “Open your fist. Now.”

“No,” Lucien growls, stalking closer to the table again. “We can’t stop. Find Elain.”

“You have no idea what we saw,” Feyre snaps.

The two continue to bicker and snarl at one another, but Cassian tunes it all out. He settles one hand along Nesta’s lower back, able to feel the tension in her body beneath his touch, the small trembles and shakes that rattle her limbs. With his other hand, he reaches up toward her face, gently sliding the backs of his fingers down her cheek.

“Nesta.”

Nesta’s eyes snap open, zeroing in on him, and Cassian once again gets a glimpse of the magic that rages like a wildfire beneath her skin, of the silver flames that flicker around her irises. He doesn’t remove his touch though, doesn’t step away.

“Open your fist, Nes.”

Nesta’s fingers splay, bones and stones clattering against the table as they’re released from her hold, slightly pink from where her grip was tight enough to break skin. Cassian slides his hand around to Nesta’s waist, catching her and holding her steady when she sways. He tilts his head down enough that he can press his lips to the crown of her head, tuck his nose to the golden brown strands of her hair.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” he speaks quietly, only loud enough for Nesta to hear.

“Look.”

Eris’s words are enough to have Nesta pulling away from Cassian, and he refuses to acknowledge the coldness that burrows beneath his skin at the loss. Refuses to name or give in to what feels suspiciously like disappointment creeping up and between his ribs. Instead, he swallows hard and rolls his shoulders, joining everyone else in the room leaning over the table to see.

To see the bones and stones standing on end upon the map, to see them forming a perfect, unnatural circle.

“Good. Now we know where she is, for sure,” Lucien says, pushing off the table’s edge and offering his brother a pointed, sardonic, look before striding toward the library doors.

“Lucien–”

“Try and stop me. I dare you.” Lucien whirls around, and Cassian catches a glimpse of the burning flames infamous to the Vanserras flickering in his russet eyes. “If I have to march into Hybern by myself, then so be it, but I am getting back my wife.”

Cassian half wonders if Eris would, if he’d stop his own brother in order to save Lucien from himself. He half wonders how Lucien might claw his way out of whatever restraints Eris put him in, how he might cleave through any chains or spells to get to Elain. Cassian has to give the male credit for his dedication.

For his devotion to his wife.

That dark, twisting feeling climbs back up Cassian’s chest, twining like brambled vines around his ribs. Around his heart. It feels an awful lot like bitterness, but he’s quick to shove it back down. It doesn’t stop that dark part of him that revels in seeing the mess of emotions wreaking havoc on the youngest Vanserra, to see some semblance of his own emotions and experience finally reflected back at him, especially after how happy Lucien and Elain had looked together the previous night.

It doesn’t stop the voice that whispers in the back of Cassian’s mind, wondering what it would take to draw such a visceral reaction from himself.

“I can offer a squadron of wolves. Just one, though. I won’t risk any more than that.”

Despite the words being for Lucien, it’s Nesta that Cassian doesn’t take his eyes off of. He knows how important her sisters are to her, how much she cares about them. He can still remember their wedding day, when Nesta told him plain and simple that she only agreed because of them. That she chose him over the other factions in the name of protecting them.

The declaration has a new emotion sparking amongst the icy blues of Nesta’s eyes, one that Cassian doesn’t quite recognize. It’s a look he hasn’t yet cataloged, hasn’t yet named, that takes over her expression. Cassian’s heart squeezes in response, and he has to swallow hard against the way his breath threatens to catch in his throat.

“Thank you,” Nesta tells him, her voice quiet and sincere. Just for him.

Cassian nods his head once, determined to keep his own emotions tampered, his own face neutral. “Guess we’re going to Hybern.”

~ * * * ~

Nesta

Nesta twists enough that she can secure the final buckle, pulling at the strap until it tightens. She slides her hands down along her waist and hips, stepping over to the small mirror in the bedroom. It’s almost uncanny, the reflection staring back at her. She had been unsure when Emerie had handed her a pair of leathers to wear, and it’s as strange seeing them on as the fabric feels against her skin.

Still, the Mother only knows what could be waiting for them at Hybern, and Nesta will take any extra protection and armor she can get.

It had been one of the easiest decisions she had ever made, agreeing to help Lucien and rescue Elain. One she’d made as soon as those bones and stones had landed across the map, before she could even voice it. She’d do anything for her sisters, even if it meant storming into what was most likely a trap. Even if it was the last thing she ever did. And she didn’t care what anyone said, including her dear wolf of a husband.

Although, she hadn’t needed to worry about that last one in the end.

She still can’t quite wrap her mind around Cassian not fighting her about going to Hybern, how the only “order” he gave was for Emerie to locate some leathers for her to wear. She still can’t wrap her mind around him offering up his own wolves to help with the rescue. Elain means nothing to him, he has no reason to volunteer his help, and yet…

And that look on his face… Nesta still can’t get it out of her head. The way the hazel of his eyes seemed to burn in a way she’d never seen before. The way that gaze had been pinned to her as he spoke the words. It had been indescribable. It had something warm threatening to unfurl in her chest.

It was dangerous.

Sighing softly and shaking her head of those thoughts, Nesta steps out of the bedroom. She finds Cassian standing in the front room of the cabin, the alpha already wearing his own leathers. It’s certainly a sight, the way the fabric clings to his frame and emphasizes the large muscles of his chest, his arms, his thighs, the way the red hued scales along the shoulders seem to flicker in the low light of the room. With the stubble along his jaw, his hair scraped back away from his face, and the twin blades strapped along his back, he certainly paints the image of a warrior prince.

His eyes sweep over Nesta before he offers a single nod of approval. “This is for you.”

Nesta looks down at the blade Cassian slides across the table over to her, blinking in surprise. Slowly, she reaches her hand out, picking it up. She examines the leather criss crossed tightly along the hilt, pulling the blade free from the scabbard to reveal the Illyrian steel.

“I had Elis make it,” Cassian continues. “Had him make sure it was the perfect weight and balance for you. I know you have your magic, but considering what Hybern may have, better safe than sorry.”

Nesta curls her fingers tighter around the sword, taking a moment to swallow hard and secure it to her belt. “Thanks.”

The silence that settles around them feels charged somehow, prickling along Nesta’s skin. She dares to meet Cassian’s gaze again, but he has that same burning, piercing look painted across his face, and she has to look away. When there’s a short rap to the cabin door, she’s never been more grateful.

It’s time.

It takes a large amount of magic to travel to Hybern, to keep everyone cloaked, and Nesta’s hands are clammy and shaking by the time they’re landing beneath the stretching bark and branches, the dark canopy of trees. There’s the threat of a migraine building in her head, a pressure just behind her eyes, but Nesta breathes through it all, taking in gulps of the cool night air around her.

She can feel Cassian’s presence beside her, feel the warmth that radiates off him from where he’s standing close. She can feel his attention solely on her, the barest brush of his fingertips along her arm.

“You made it.”

Nesta snaps her attention toward the sound of the voice, watching as Lucien stalks out from between the trees, members of the Vanserra coven that she doesn’t recognize following behind him. They’re all dressed in leathers of their own, reds and greens and golds befitting of the coven’s autumnal ties. Lucien has his curtain of red hair tied off away from his face, and beneath the moonlight, the scar across his face stands out especially stark and the flames in his eyes burn especially bright, flickering with anxious determination.

Nesta almost feels bad for whatever Hybernian soldier tries to come between him and Elain.

Almost.

“We’re just waiting for Feyre then,” Nesta offers, glancing around the wood in search of her youngest sister.

“She’s not coming.”

Nesta frowns at Lucien. “What do you mean?”

“I mean she’s not coming. From what I overheard with Eris, it sounds like Rhysand wasn’t as forgiving about his wife in Hybern,” Lucien explains; although, his eyes flick to Nesta’s right as he says the words. “Sounds like there may have been some locked doors involved.”

Nesta has to swallow down a wince. She remembers the quiet, but harsh words spoken between Feyre and Rhysand at the Vanserra manor, remembers the way her sister loudly proclaimed her husband to be a prick. There had been glares and snarls, and Feyre had stormed off in the end, but Nesta thought her sister’s stubborn recklessness would win out in the end.

“If that’s the next rescue mission, you can count me out,” Baz speaks up from Nesta’s left, his whole body shuddering. “I am not going in that place.”

Nesta snorts softly. “Really? Hybern is fine, but you won’t go to the vampire den?”

“I’ll do most things for the Pack, but I have to draw the line somewhere.”

It’s an odd thing to say. Nesta half expected him to make a joke about how Cassian could never order him into the den the way he was ordered here tonight. After all, there’s nothing here for the Pack tonight. Elain has nothing to do with them.

“How about you do something useful and sweep the perimeter.”

Baz makes a big show of rolling his eyes at Cassian’s words, but he gestures with his head, and the other wolves follow him as they vanish amongst the shadows of the wood around them. Lucien leads the smaller group that remains away, daring to press right up to where the treeline ends and crouching down amongst the brush there.

Looking out across the field of tall grass, Nesta gets her first look at the fortress the king of Hybern calls home. Dark stone stretches high and wide, a wall hiding away the towers and keep just beyond. It’s like something out of a fairytale. Or a nightmare. The almost black hue of the stone, the ivy and bramble that creeps along it, the spikes, it all reminds Nesta of a dark thunderstorm.

“There’s a servants’ entrance through that gatehouse there,” Lucien says, his voice quiet. “According to the intel Rhysand’s spymaster offered, many of the servants don’t live within the walls, they come and go each day.”

“A good entrance for us to use then as well,” Cassian comments with a nod of his head.

“My thoughts exactly. If we’re lucky, we can get in and get out without starting a war.”

“Bit late for that, don’t you think?”

“Even so, we clearly don’t have the numbers for a big fight. I doubt you want to lose any wolves tonight.”

Cassian doesn’t say anything, but Nesta doesn’t miss the way a muscle in his jaw ticks, Lucien’s words clearly having hit their mark. He crosses his arms and focuses his attention back on the fortress, eyes flickering as he takes in every detail, as he devises his own plan with all the prowess Nesta expects from an alpha general.

“Well, then,” Cassian finally says. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

They make it inside the fortress with surprisingly little fanfare. There’s only a trio of guards at the gatehouse, Cassian trapping one in a headlock until he loses consciousness while Lucien and one of his other witches take out the other two. They encounter even fewer as they cross to the servants’ entrance, stepping inside an empty and dark kitchen, stoves and flames long gone cold and the staff long retiring for the night.

“We’ll cover more ground if we split up,” Cassian suggests.

At Lucien’s agreement, he sends the other Vanserra witches to the western wing, offering to take the main house himself. It leaves Nesta and Cassian to search the eastern wing in hopes of locating Elain.

As they creep up one of the servants’ stairwells, Nesta reaches within for her magic. Just as she always does, she imagines stroking her fingers through soft fur, but this time, she gets a growl in response, leaving the hairs on the back of her neck standing on edge, a shiver skittering across her skin. It’s a warning.

It means something’s wrong.

Swallowing hard around that feeling, Nesta tightens her grip around her magic, pulling it forward forcibly until silver flames curl between her fingers, wreathing her wrists and providing light through the winding dark corridors. The distinct sound of blades unsheathing has Nesta’s entire body tensing on instinct, but when she whips around she finds it’s merely Cassian, both his blades raised and ready.

“You feel it too, then.”

Cassian’s lips press into a thin line. “Coming here may have been a mistake.”

“Don’t let Lucien hear you say… that…”

Nesta’s voice trails off as they reach the end of the corridor, her steps stuttering to a stop. The caress up her arm, along the back of her neck is undeniable, and it’s wrong. It curls around her ear until the ringing taking up home there morphs into a whisper, a temptation. A siren song. A sudden pressure starts to build in her chest, wrapping like cold, spindly fingers between her ribs and around her lungs until the air is squeezed out of them. And that grip on her tugs, calling her down and down and down.

Nesta’s entire world tilts as her body is yanked back, the hand pressed to her mouth muffling her yelp of surprise. She tries to struggle against the tight hold before she realizes she recognizes the warmth, the body, pressed along her spine. With a huff, she shoves Cassian’s hand away from her face, turning to glare at him. But Cassian has a single finger pressed to his own lips, signaling quiet.

Carefully, Nesta leans forward enough that she can peer out of the alcove Cassian has pulled them into. She frowns at the dark corridor, as empty as it was before. What has his wolf hearing picked up that she can’t see?

Cassian yanks Nesta back again, out of view just as a pair of Hybernian soldiers come stalking around the corner and down the corridor. Nesta holds her breath as they come to a stop right where she and Cassian are hiding. Her heart skips and starts to pound in her chest. Why haven’t they continued on with their patrol?

“What have we here?” One of the soldiers turns with a sneer, somehow looking directly at Nesta through the shadows. “A little mouse just for me?”

“More like a wolf,” Cassian growls, stepping out of the alcove.

Nesta barely has time to blink before Cassian is leaping forward, both his swords swinging. He takes down the soldier who spoke with ease, a feral grin on his face despite the blood now staining his leathers. Nesta focuses her own attention on the remaining soldier, reaching once again for her magic. She sends silver flames cascading toward the male, but not before he gets off a spell of his own, alarm bells blaring around them.

“Well, there goes our element of surprise,” Cassian comments.

He sheathes one of his swords and grabs hold of Nesta’s hand, pulling her down the large, main staircase. They burst through the large, wooden doors that lead in and out of the eastern wing, coming face to face with even more soldiers rushing toward them. Cassian drops her hand to free his second blade again, resetting his stance so his back is to her. Nesta takes it as the cue that it is. She takes a moment, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. She can feel the swell of her magic, feel the familiar burn through her veins, across her skin, in her eyes.

A smirk pulls up her lips as her eyes snap open again, zeroing in on the soldiers standing before her. Zeroing in on her prey. It’s the only warning she gives them before she unleashes the beast writhing and skulking within, towering flames arcing away from her and swallowing every soldier in their path.

She turns on the spot, toward the next round of soldiers who dare to step up against her. She’s surprised to find a soldier closer than she expects, dark eyes narrowed and lips curled back in a leer. He raises his hand, so Nesta summons what remains in that well of her magic, wills it to thread between her fingers again. But before she can strike, the soldier unfurls his fingers, revealing some sort of blue powder that he blows directly into Nesta’s face.

Nesta coughs, turning her head away, but whatever the substance was, it’s too late. Her vision starts to blur around the edges, and she tries to blink around it, tries to shake it. All the sounds around her seem to fade, the shouts and cries of soldiers falling, replaced by an almost buzzing that presses into her ears. Her limbs feel strangely heavy, and when Nesta reaches inside herself she finds… nothing. There’s just emptiness.

A roar breaks through the haze to Nesta’s right, warm liquid splattering across her cheek, her neck. Greens and golds flood her vision, and it takes her a moment too long to realize it’s Cassian in front of her, his eyes dark with fury, with worry.

“Nesta, run,” Cassian tells her, clearly repeating himself. “Make for the woods, but run.”

Nesta doesn’t need to be told again. She somehow gets her legs under herself again, breathing through her pounding heart, through the hollowness clawing in her chest, as she pushes toward the tree line.

As she gets closer, she spots two wolves charging right for her, one dark gray with a silver underside and the other an almost shaggy brown in color. The gray one rushes ahead, leaping right at Nesta, and she drops to her knees on instinct, a terrified gasp clogging up her throat. She waits for the pain, for teeth to sink into her flesh, but all there is is a pained cry from behind her. She whips around, only to find the wolf tearing a Hybernian soldier to shreds with its teeth.

“Nesta.” Nesta turns around, meeting Baz’s face, the Pack’s third now back in human form. “Are you alright?”

Nesta nods, taking Baz’s proffered hand and allowing him to pull her back to her feet. Whatever magic she was hit with, she still feels out of sorts, still feels unsteady, and she stumbles back a few steps, right into a firm, hard body. Hands on her shoulders catch her, but then they’re sliding down to lift her fully off her feet, cradling her against a chest and enveloping her in the familiar scent of pine and low burning embers. She wants to protest, but she’s tired, so tired, and she slumps fully against Cassian.

“Lucien has Elain. Now, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @freakingata

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hi I have a request I’d like to make ^_^

Can you write something where Aemond is a bit shy when he cums, so he’s always burying his face against her neck, but this time reader really wants to see his expressions when he climaxes so she’s on top for the first time. He’s a little taken aback but he can’t deny the view is great. When he almost gets to climaxing he’s like “w-wait! I’m close..!” And she just grabs his jaw, making forced eye contact and proceeds to ride him even harder until he cums.

I LOVE it when people reach out off of anon. Very brave. Much courage.

ANYWAY, your wish is my command. Pls enjoy.

Warnings: As if this needs any. You know there will be smut. NSFW. 18+ Word count: ~1k

Aemond had always been a generous and attentive lover. Despite not having much in the way of sexual experience prior to your marriage, he was a perfectionist and eager to learn. He had spent hours poring over every tome that the Red Keep’s library had to offer on the act of pleasure, and plentiful practice had meant there was never a day that you were left wanting physically.

It had taken a while to convince him to remove his eyepatch in front of you. His claim of “I have no desire to frighten you, my love.” had made your heart ache. He was clearly self conscious of his disfigurement, but you were desperate to see all of him. The night that he had finally relented and allowed you to lift it from his face had been a tender moment for you both. You had pressed gentle kisses to his scar and reassured him that you loved all of him, he didn’t need to hide any parts of himself from you.

Despite this, one of those frustrating factors for you in your marriage to the One-Eyed Prince was that during the act of love he would always hide his face from you at the point of climax. Either by burying his face in the crook of your neck if you lay below him or throwing his head back if he took you from behind. You knew it was fuelled by his insecurity regarding his eye and it bothered you that there was still an element of discomfort for him in your relationship. You were determined to fix it.

You’d tried to outsmart him one morning, sliding down the bed to take him into your mouth, watching his face carefully as you’d bobbed your head back and forth along his thick length. However, as he’d reached the apex of his pleasure, he’d turned his head away into the pillows, leaving you with a mouthful of his spend and an overbearing sense of exasperation.

A week later the two of you lay together in your marital bed, each of you on your side, facing each other. The ever increasing passion of your kisses and the way Aemond’s hands roam the curves of your body make it explicitly clear where things are headed. An idea strikes you.

Hooking a leg over Aemond’s hip, you roll him onto his back, sitting astride his hips.

A slight raise of his eyebrow, that would have been imperceptible to anyone else, lets you know that your actions have shocked your husband and you grin down at him.

“What are you doing, dōna ābrazȳrys?” He asks curiously. Sweet wife.

“Just trying something different, my dragon.” You purr back.

His right eye watches with keen interest as you reach between your bodies, positioning his hardened cock at your entrance before sinking down slowly.

You gasp at the stretch of him and the unexplored depth and angle. This is a new position for both of you, but it is not an unwelcome sensation. From the sharp inhale through his nose that Aemond takes as he grits his teeth, you can tell that he’s enjoying it too.

Gingerly, you begin to grind your hips back and forth against his. Unsure of what you are doing, your lack of experience causes you to hesitate, so you are grateful when Aemond grasps your hips and helps your movements along as he thrusts up into you.

His right eye drinks in the sight of you appreciatively as you ride him. From the contorted expression of pleasure on your face, to the bounce of your breasts and the roll of your hips against his. “Vok.” He whispers, as you move above him. Perfect.

His praise instills you with renewed confidence and you move your hips faster, harder, until Aemond’s grip on you tightens, his breathing becoming ragged. The familiar tensing of his abdominal muscles and pulsating of him inside of you are all you need to feel to know he is close to his end. You smirk down at him.

Panic washes over his features as he attempts to turn his face away. “No, no, I’m close!” He groans.

“I know.” You breathe out, taking his chin between your thumb and forefinger to turn him back towards you. “I will look upon your face as you fill me.”

You continue to ride Aemond. The beginnings of his protestations die on his lips as his release takes hold. Your lips part, eyes wide with both wonder and enjoyment as you take in the sight of his pleasure drunk features as he pumps you full of his seed. 

His brow is furrowed. The blue iris of his right eye is no longer visible from the dilation of his pupil. The bridge of his nose is scrunched ever so slightly, distorting the positioning of the scar that runs along the left side of his face. His mouth hangs agape as an almost feral sounding grunt escapes him.

You have never seen anything quite so beautiful as your husband in the throes of ecstasy. You cannot quite believe that this is what he has been hiding from you all this time. Your own pleasure is long forgotten to you as you gaze adoringly down at him.

Suddenly he pushes you off of him with a force that causes you to collapse onto your own side of the bed.

“I’m sorry you saw that.” He mutters, turning away from you, clearly distressed.

You reach out a tentative hand, stroking his shoulder. “Aemond, we’ve spoken about this…”

He sighs. “I know, ñuha jorrāelagon, but it is one thing for you to flatter me during idle conversation. It is another entirely for my disfigurement to rob you of your pleasure.” My love.

You pull him gently onto his back, looking down at him with concern. “What do you mean?”

“You saw my face when I…when I- and you didn’t peak.”

Your features soften as you chuckle slightly. “Aemond, you were so breathtaking to me in that moment, that I quite forgot that that was the intention.”

Aemond eyes you suspiciously. “Really?”

You nod. “Aemond, my words to you are not just flattery. I mean it when I say I think you are perfect. Please never hide your face from me again.”

He appears to consider this for a moment before speaking. “Okay, dōna ābrazȳrys. But you must allow me one exception.”

“And what is that?”

Aemond smirks wickedly at you as he lowers himself on the bed. “My face will be hidden when it is between your thighs. No wife of mine will go to sleep unsatisfied.”

[znoots]

Tom Riddle headcannons Part 2.

Puzzles / board games.

• enjoys certain puzzle like games like chess , sudoku, even mahjong solitaire. Mainly games that get his brain thinking. I’d also think he’d be the type to play the crossword puzzles at the back of newspapers.

• will gladly partake in any puzzle games if you find more . I think he’d have ago at unsolved murder mysteries though it’s more like he walked in on you trying to solve it and ended up joining in.

It would go roughly something like this:

“What’re you doing”

“I’m trying to solve this murder mystery wanna join?”

“I’m busy maybe later dear”

Though after watching you kerfuffle about, he eventually puts his work aside to help you.

Watching you struggle was amusing to him because he had been watching you play and already knew half of the character links while you were practically losing sanity trying to work out the links between the characters and answers.

He makes his way over to you sitting beside you and starts to analyse the situation. After some back and forth conversation from him you start to understand some of the patterns.

It’s from then you realise how good he is with puzzle games.

He’d probably buy a set himself and it eventually becomes a guilty pleasure.

• your date nights are probably more inside activities than outside. Of course the occasional trip to hogsmeade but in general you’d probably be inside playing a board or puzzle game.

Chess : You mainly came across him playing chess as a relaxer or stimulant to keep his mind at bay. He’d play by himself moving both white pieces and black pieces.

And it’s from there you also learnt how to play.

The scenario probably went something like this :

If you already know a bit about chess

You walk into the library finding his usual spot, he’s usually somewhere deeper in the library to avoid commotion or unwanted attention.

You walk up behind him giving him a slight hug when you look over his shoulder to see him playing chess.

He’d be moving the pieces quite rapidly so it took you some time to understand why he was moving certain pieces to certain places.

You’d ask him questions while he’s playing and he’d give you a brief explanation.

You nod and continue to watch him play until he finishes or eventually averts his attention back to his books.

“Can I play against you perhaps?”

“Sit.” He said extending his hand to a seat

Tom is definitely good , to say the least and often you’d be stuck or move your chess piece to a position where he’s able to easily counter it.

After some short matches , he’d probably give a book on chess so you can play by yourself while he studies next to you.

He glances over every once in a while to see how you’re doing making some adjustments and explaining why he’d move certain pieces to certain positions, he also does this mid match so you have a better understanding of why.

Eventually he incorporates a Fischer clock to see how you work under pressure. He’d also do this to strengthen what you already know and how to play your pieces smartly.

Though if you don’t know anything about chess

Then he’d try and be more thorough while explaining.

It probably takes you a while to adjust but after a few sessions you eventually grasp the concept.

His play style would be more laid back trying to accommodate you as best as he can to the game.

Your sessions usually go something like this :

“No you can’t move that there.”

“Why the hell not”

He rolls his eyes moving your piece back and explains why.

“Ohhhh ok”

“…You’re moving the pieces wrong again”

“I thought I could move my Knight there?”

“No darling look”

This basically goes on back and forth until you eventually understand the basic rules.

He probably finds you reading the chess book he gave you in lesson to which he smiles at.

Though he realises how determined you are to learn when you genuinely start bringing it everywhere with you. And I mean everywhere.

To breakfast , to lunch , dinner. In lesson your probably asking him about certain moves and the limitations of the pieces to which he answers but eventually tells you to shut up and focus before you fail the class.

He even saw you attempt to take it to the bloody bathroom once to which he snatched it out your hands.

“That isn’t necessary is it.”

“🤗😙”

He’d buy you a chess board so you can grasp how to play against yourself and how to counter certain moves.

You may even get yourself a Fischer clock to truly test yourself though this doesn’t happen after a longggg while. You instead jot down where your pieces move to for future plays.

He truly didn’t expect you to take it as seriously as you have but he’s honoured either way. He finds it quite adorable how you’re willing to spend so much time just to end up getting checkmated after moving a piece wrong, but he’s commending you for trying either way.

It takes some time to learn how he plays and how to beat him but if you do win against him he’s definitely proud of you. He feels a twinge of warmth when he sees how happy you are.

[theemporium]

part two to your teasing stiles in class blurb? maybe he gets back at her

here you go, baby!🖤

.

“Shh, baby, it’s like you wanna get caught.”

The game you played with your boyfriend didn’t have any rules. You teased him until he broke. He teased you until you gave in. It was back and forth, a cat and mouse game that never really seemed to stop. But you had honestly thought you had pushed him too far the other week in the classroom, leaving a flustered Stiles running off to the bathroom to deal with his situation before his next class. 

Until today. 

It had been a normal day, Stiles was as affectionate as ever and you honestly didn’t see the catch when he asked if you wanted to study later in the library before you both headed over to his to have dinner with his dad. It seemed normal to you, and that was exactly what Stiles wanted—to catch you off-guard.

You barely paid attention when you felt his hand on your thigh, fingers tapping away as he read over his notes. It wasn’t an unusual thing for him to do.

“Just need to keep my hands busy,” he would murmur to you, brown eyes still focused on the words on the page. 

Then his hand inched higher and you flashed him a look, but he didn’t even glance your way. 

And now, here you were less than thirty minutes later, nails digging into the wooden table, feet tucked behind the legs of the chair, glossy eyes staring at your boyfriend as his fingers slid in and out of your soaking cunt at a pace that wasn’t enough to dull the burning fire in the core of your stomach. 

“S-Stiles–” you choked out in a whiny voice but the boy hushed you with a dismissive shake of his head.

“Told you I needed to study for this test, stop being a needy lil’ brat,” Stiles whispered, his voice low enough so the other students lingering around the library wouldn’t hear you. 

“I need–”

“You need nothing, baby,” he interrupted, his free hand flicking through the pages of his textbook until he found the one he needed. “I’ve told you, just need to keep my hands busy so I can focus.” 

You bit down on your lip as you felt him pull his fingers out, sliding up and down your slit before he pressed down on your swollen clit and watched your body lurch forward. 

“Tsk, what a desperate little thing you are, hm?” Stiles muttered under his breath, but the amusement was clear and thick in his voice. “Shame you’ll have to wait until we are home.” 

Before you could even process what he said, the space between your legs was now empty and you glanced over at your boyfriend, lips parted in shock as you watched him slowly suck his fingers into his mouth—the fingers that were inside you moments ago. 

“Stiles–” your voice cracked with need.

“What, baby?” he finally glanced over at you with a smug smile on his lips before he threw your words back at you. “Be a good girl and maybe I’ll give you a reward after dinner.”

.

[ttulipwritezz]

Rules huh?

Sirius Black x James's sister reader

warnings: Honestly other than the reader being referred to as she/her, one year age gap, and being called beautiful I think nothing, lmk if I missed anything.

pt2, pt3

synopsis: There was one rule..and he had broken it.

Sitting in the Gryffindor common room were the four marauders.

or well three of them were sitting, the last one was pacing back and forth on the carpet such that a few more minutes would have started to dig a hole in it.

"mate...trust us, why'd we wanna get with Your sister anyway?

That was Moony, always the ever-so-sensible one

"yea, when I could have anyone at Hogwarts I assure you I wouldn't lay an eye on your sister. I'm serious"

yes...he was Sirius alright.

Here's what happened.

When James received an owl regarding his sister's transfer to Hogwarts in her fourth year, needless to say, he wasn't stoked.

It not only meant she'd be able to owl their parents on what shenanigans he did throughout the school year but it also meant keeping Boys away from her.

The first to receive this lecture were the marauders...at the least, James had to make sure his best friends weren't involved with his sister in any way.

So he had one rule...just one

Do Not Fall For My Sister.

"yea mate, not like we'd like her when she shares a face with you."

Quipped worm tail as the others agreed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh how wrong they were...

not only did you look Nothing like your brother, but you were also one of the most beautiful girls the boys had ever seen.

Sirius's interest was immediately piqued.

He'd catch a glance of you each time you'd walk the halls, or he'd drag the rest to follow you into the library, they, of course, didn't say anything because they knew how much of a book nerd Sirius could be.

It started to get a little suspicious...then he'd ask Moony to ask the gang, and they'd continue their library trips.

Honestly speaking you'd try to maintain your distance from your brother's group, the last thing you want is a bunch of fifth years on your tail.

Though part of that came from the lecture you received on your end as well...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius Orion Black

He was interesting, to say the least, he had a generally flirty personality and would often be seen winking at girls in the halls.

Oddly enough, despite your brother's warning, you were on the receiving end of quite a few.

James did NOT approve

He's noticed the little smiles and glances exchanged between the two of you rather quickly, considering how little observant he is, 7 months is quick for him.

But oh well, Sirius had broken the one rule his best friend had set up...and maybe you had too.

A/N: lmk if yall want a part two, I've been in such a marauders era brain rot please give me fic recommendations if you have any. I also haven't checked it too well so lmk if you find any mistakes I'll write a part two if enough people want one.

p.s pt.2 at a 100 notes I promise