#once standing in the hall in front of my room and once outside my window

[froody]

Please tell me your ghost stories in the tags.

[sapphire-writes]

Beyond The Play

college!Art x college!Reader

summary: Tashi needs some time alone with her man, which leaves you without a room for the night.

word count: 3.8k

rating: mature/explicit/18+

warnings: alcohol, fingering, dry humping, p in v sex with a condom, light praise, titty sucking, there's only one bed oh no!!

a/n: thanks for all the love on my first Challengers fic! hope you enjoy this one!

“You are so fucked,” Art says, taking another sip of his beer.

“Shut up.”

“He’s right,” Tashi agrees, sighing heavily, glancing at her cards.

You’re all sitting on the floor of your and Tashi’s dorm room, half-empty beer bottles littering the floor between you. You’d been playing poker for the past hour or so, swindling more of Patrick and Art’s money. It’d become a Friday night habit of yours, card games and beer with Patrick and Art. Patrick was always a maybe, he only came to visit his girlfriend a couple times a semester. 

But you, Art, and Tashi were always a solid trio. Tashi and Art had met through tennis of course, and you had met Art through Tashi after rooming with her freshman year of college. You’d become fast friends, and roommates for the next several years. You got along with Patrick well enough, you had to once he and Tashi started dating.

You could tell that had been a sore spot for Art, at least for a while. You’d suspected he’d had a thing for Tashi, and fire and ice hadn’t been the same since. You’d once asked Tashi about it and she’d only shrugged. Even though she was with Patrick for now, you knew Tashi had only one true love. 

Whatever Art felt for Tashi was easily molded into friendship, and the three of you became nearly inseparable. Which was good, even if you may or may not have developed some feelings of your own for the blond tennis player. 

But your friendship was more important. Those feelings could be pushed aside.

“God damn it,” Patrick curses, “I fold.”

Tashi snickers, revealing her cards and Patrick swears once more. 

“I need a smoke,” Patrick says, standing and leaning across Tashi’s bed to the open window.

“Oh no you don’t,” Tashi says, standing at lightning speed, “Outside, we are not getting in trouble for this.”

She grabs Patrick by the shirt collar, dragging him off the bed. He dramatically chokes, but lets her drag him towards the door.

“Art come on,” Patrick insists, reaching for his best friend.

“What? No, I wanna stay,” Art says, sandy hair falling in front of his eyes, “You don’t need a babysitter—”

“Yes I do,” Patrick insists, “C’mon five minutes, I swear.”

The boys tumble into the hall and you can hear their voices fading as they make their way outside. You stand from the floor, gathering up some beer bottles, and folding up the empty pizza box.

“Hey, d’you think you could sleep somewhere else tonight?” Tashi asks, brown eyes wide, “It’s Patrick’s last night, and y’know we really haven’t had any alone time.”

Your chest constricts at the thought. You totally get where she’s coming from but, it’s your room too. The thought of sleeping in the common area is less enticing. 

“Or at least just for a couple of hours,” Tashi backtracks, seeing your expression, “Just so we can—”

“Yeah, Tash it’s fine,” you tell her, swallowing your annoyance. Tashi’s been nothing but thoughtful and kind as a roommate, and friend. It’s an inconvenient favor, but nothing crazy. “I’ll get out of your hair for a couple of hours.”

“You’re the best,” she says, kissing your cheek, “Seriously, I owe you one.”

“You sure do,” you tell her, “I expect full payment for this.”

“Do you mean a trip to the movies with slurpees and popcorn?” Tashi asks, raising her eyebrows. 

“With extra butter,” you clarify and point at her, “You’re not cheaping out on me.”

“I’d never,” she insists, feigning seriousness before breaking into a grin. 

You finish helping Tashi clean up and begin your excommunication from your room. Walking down the hallway you bump into Patrick and Art on their way back from Patrick’s smoke break.

“What’re you doing out here? You start smoking?” Art asks as Patrick keeps walking past you, picking up the pace, “Hey where…”

“Party’s over,” you tell him, as Patrick turns the corner, eager to return to Tashi now that she’s alone.

Art frowns, confused.

“But we were—”

“Art,” you cut him off and place your hands on his shoulders, shaking him slightly, “Party’s over. Unless you’re eager to be a third.”

Art’s cheeks flush and he glances away, forcing out a laugh. Something tugs at your heart watching his half-smile appear. 

“Uh yeah ... .no thanks,” he says and you pat his shoulders before releasing them, “Wait but where are you going to go?”

You shrug, “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“You can’t just wander around campus, it’s like 2 am,” Art says, beckoning you with his hand, “Come back to my room, at least till they’re done.”

“Really?” you ask, “Cause if you’re tired I can just—”

“Don’t be silly,” Art says, poking your shoulder, “C’mon.”

Art’s room is in a separate building on campus, about a five-minute walk from you and Tashi’s building. Art is lucky enough to have a single; you’d been there a handful of times before class or practice. He keeps his room neat, aside from some clothes scattered on the floor from quick changes before practice. You smile as he hurriedly picks them up, throwing them into a hamper in his closet.

His bed is unmade, navy sheets messy as though he’d just woken up. 

“Sorry bout the mess,” he says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m not judging, you’re cleaner than most guys I’ve met,” you tell him and he laughs. 

Suddenly, it hits you how late it is, sleepiness hitting you like a train as you yawn. This triggers Art’s yawn and the pair of you stand awkwardly in front of each other. 

“Um,” Art says suddenly, “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” you agree, stomach sinking, “I can just—”

“You should stay.”

You’re silent at that. You stare at him, as he nervously plays with the hem of his t-shirt, waiting for your reaction. You’re not sure what to say. It’s fine, right? Just a friend, helping out another friend.

A friend whom you have a big fat annoying crush on.

“I mean….it’s just late and you’re tired and who knows when they’ll be done.”

“I don’t have anything with me,” you tell him, voice sounding softer, meeker than you’d like.

“Oh, here I got you,” he says, walking to his dresser. He shuffles through the drawer a moment before revealing a shirt and clean boxers, “Just did laundry today. You can….you can change in the bathroom. I even have an extra toothbrush.”

You roll your eyes at that, taking the clothes from him. 

“Okay,” you agree.

“Bathroom’s right there.”

You nod, quickly making your way across the room and into the bathroom. You close the door and quickly change, finding Art’s spare toothbrush unopened in a goodie bag from the dentist shoved into a spare drawer. You quickly wash your face, brush your teeth, and change into his clothes. The shirt is baggy, with Stanford Men’s Tennis written across the front. It smells like him, like his detergent and his cologne and you can’t help but greedily inhale.

When you exit the bathroom, Art dips in, leaving the door open as he brushes his teeth. You place your clothes in a pile on his desk, awkwardly waiting for him. When he emerges, he’s wearing only his boxers and a gray t-shirt.

“I’ll take the floor,” Art says, his face turning beet red, “You can have the bed.”

“Art no,” you insist, “It’s your room. I’ll take the floor, it’s only fair—”

“Yeah that is not happening,” he says, satisfied smirk on his face, “Tashi’d kill me if she found out I made you sleep on the floor.”

“We could…..” you wet your lips, struggling to get the words out, “We could share the bed?”

Art watches you, his eyes wide. You watch his Adam’s apple bobs as he contemplates your question. Suddenly your pulse quickens, and embarrassment floods your body, and your face flushes. You turn away from him, scooting onto the bed.

“I mean only—”

“—if you’re comfortable,” Art finishes and you shut your mouth. You both giggle at the overlapping sentences.

“Yeah, I’m comfortable, Art,” you tell him, patting the space beside you, “Come on.”

Art moves onto the bed and you push closer to the wall. He’s so close when he lies down beside you, stretching his arm above your head. You’ve grown accustomed to the moonlit room and at this distance, you can almost count each eyelash that frames his blue eyes. 

“Is this okay?” he whispers, minty breath wafting over your face, making your head spin.

“Mhmm,” is all you can manage as the heat of his body warms you under the covers.

He’s silent then and you lay there for a moment, watching each other, listening to your shared breathing. Art chuckles then.

“What?”

“It’s just…” he trails off, “Nothing, it’s silly.”

“What is it?”

“You’re the first girl I’ve shared a bed with,” he admits, shyly glancing away from your gaze.

“Art Donaldson,” your tone is teasing, “I find that rather hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” he insists, brows furrowing together, “I mean….I’m not saying—wait” he wets his lips nervously, “I’m not a virgin—”

Your eyebrows raise, a smile curling at the corner of your lips. No, you did not doubt that. 

“Not that anything’s wrong with that, I just—wait and not to imply—”

“Art!” you cut him off, reaching forward and pressing your fingers against his lips, “I’m kidding. Don’t freak out.”

“M’not,” he mumbles, lips moving against your fingers.

“I’m fucking with you, Donaldson,” you whisper, taking your hand back, “I know you’re a gentleman.”

“Thank Christ,” he says with an exaggerated exhale causing you to giggle once more. He watches you, a smile on his face, eyes flickering to your lips.

Your face heats up as he wets his lips. Suddenly, nervousness flutters in your belly, and your heart flutters in your chest.

“Goodnight,” you tell him, turning away from him to face the wall.

You wait for his response, hoping he’s not disappointed. Disappointed about what, you’re not sure. 

“Goodnight,” he says softly and you close your eyes.

You wake up early. Birds are chirping outside the window, golden sunlight is beginning to bleed into the room, and Art’s chest is smushed firmly against your back. His arm is curled around your middle, hand splayed under your shirt and on your tummy, face buried in the crook of your neck. He’s so warm, his presence so comforting, you just want to close your eyes and melt back into him. 

Art groans in his sleep, moving his hips slightly and your eyes snap open.

Oh, Art.

He’s pressed firmly against your backside, rock-hard, hips unconsciously grinding against you. Your mouth falls open slightly feeling him against you, the hard outline of his cock bullying against your ass. Art groans again, hand on your stomach pushing you closer to him.

A breathy sigh escapes you and your head falls back against him slightly. 

“Art,” you breathe, answered with another groan, this one edging on a whimper. His hips gyrate, cock pressing against you with need, “Oh God…”

You swallow, breathing becoming more shallow. Your pussy clenches, and you can feel the growing wetness in the boxers Art had lent you, thighs pressing together desperate to relieve some of the pressure.

“Art wake up!” 

Art wakes with a start, head pulled from your shoulder. You can’t see him, but you feel him tense, the warmth of his body ripped from yours as he lurches backward, right off the edge of the bed. He falls with a yelp, hitting the floor with a loud thud. You sit up turning toward him. 

“Fuck!” he says, scrambling to sit and hide his erection, “Shit, I’m so sorry!” His face is red and he grabs a pillow, placing it over his lap, “God–fuck, I’m so sorry I was asleep—” He keeps stuttering, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Art.”

“It’s just biological you know, just morning wood, I would never do anything without your explicit consent–enthusiastic consent!”

“Art…”

“And I would never want to ruin anything between us, ever–”

“Art!”

His head snaps toward you then, eyes meeting yours. His mouth hangs open, eyes watery as he looks up at you. He looks so sad, so embarrassed, and disappointed. And something else as well. Worried, perhaps. 

“Get back up here,” you tell him.

Art’s mouth remains open in shock as he glances at the bed.

“Now?”

“Yes, right now.”

Art scrambles to rejoin you on the bed, lying beside you. He faces you just as he did last night, sandy hair falling across his forehead. You smile softly at his disheveled appearance and his flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop talking,” you tell him, reaching forward and brushing some hair from his face. You let your hand trail around to the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair. “You have my consent.”

Art’s eyes widen, lips parting in shock.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you tell him, pulling yourself closer. His hand drifts to your hip, anchoring himself to it. “Explicit, enthusiastic, all yours.”

The last word has barely left your lips before he’s leaning forward, pressing his lips against your own. They’re warm and soft, he kisses you with innocent eagerness, the hand on your hip pulling you flush against him. You lift your leg, hitching it around his thigh, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly, earning a moan against your mouth.

“Fuck,” he moans against your lips, “You don’t know how long I’ve thought about this.”

Something deep inside your belly warms at his admission. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” he answers, kissing you again, “Since freshman year.”

“Why didn’t you…..oh fuck..” your question trails off as Art mouths your neck, sucking and biting the tender skin.

“Didn’t want to ruin anything,” he mumbles, kissing your collarbone. 

You hum at his answer, tilting your head to give him better access. His hand moves from your hip bone, up under your shirt—his shirt. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, mouth returning to your lips.

“Yes,” you tell him, “Please touch me.”

You can feel his smile against your lips as he does what you ask, fingers grazing the underside of your breast. Pushing against him, his hand cups your breast, squeezing lightly. You pull away from his lips briefly, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it to the end of the bed. Art’s eyes devour you and he kisses you desperately as he continues to play with your tits. 

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing down your neck until he reaches the top of your chest. 

Art’s lips move across the tops of your breasts, as though he’s struggling with choosing which one to lavish with attention. Luckily for you, he decides rather quickly and latches his mouth to your right nipple, thumb, and forefinger, tweaking the opposite. Your back arches as he gently bites down, sucking the hardened peak harshly before releasing it with a pop. 

“Art.”

He simply moans, ignoring your cries as he brings his mouth to your opposite nipple, repeating his previous action. Pleasure winds a current in your lower belly, your thighs clench as he repeats his little torture, alternating back and forth between your breasts. You grab his hair, tugging him not too gently until he glances up at you, cheeks red, lips glossy and puckered. 

He’s too pretty.

You pull him back to your lips, kissing him feverishly while trying to rid yourself of the clothing you have left. Art feels you squirming and assists, hands moving the boxers down your legs until you’re able to kick them off at your ankles. Your hands move to him next, eager to even the playing field. 

You tear his shirt over his head revealing his toned stomach from countless hours on the court. Your mouth waters at the sight before Art is on you once more, lips capturing yours in another heated kiss. His hand returns to your hip, curling against it before he reaches further, squeezing your ass.

You smile against his mouth as he squeezes again. 

“You’re just fucking perfect, aren’t you?” he murmurs, returning your smile.

His hand grazes down the back of your thigh before venturing to the front where your legs meet. Your breathing becomes more labored the closer he gets to your hot center. 

“Can I?” he asks, so softly, you nearly drown out his question with your heavy breath.

“Yes,” you tell him, and that’s all he needs. 

Art slides a curious finger between your wet folds, gently circling your clit. Your mouth falls open as he continues.

“You’re so wet,” he remarks, dipping his finger lower, and finding your entrance. 

He lets his middle finger sink into you, met with little resistance. Your walls greedily accept him as he curls his finger upwards, beginning to pump it in and out. Stars explode behind your eyes and you moan, clutching onto his shoulder.

Art smirks, eyes aglow at the pleasured noises you emit.

“That feel good?”

“Yes—fuck,” you squeak as he presses another finger inside of you, “Oh god.”

“Yeah?” 

Art crooks his fingers against your velvety walls, pressing against that special spot inside of you that has your head lolling against him, moans spilling from your lips. His thumb joins, caressing your sensitive clit in time with the strokes of his fingers. 

“Feels so good,” you moan, “I’m so close.”

“Yeah? You're gonna come for me?” he asks, kissing your neck. Your fingers tangle themselves in his blonde hair, tugging harshly, your orgasm building deep in your belly, “Come on baby, come on my fingers, I wanna feel this pretty pussy come.”

His words send you over the edge and your pussy clenches around his digits as you come, thighs shaking from the intensity as warmth floods through you.

“That was so hot,” Art says, kissing you, still buried to the knuckles inside you, “You’re so hot. Let me fuck you, please.”

You hum against his lips as he carefully removes his fingers from your warmth. He pulls away, bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. You watch him awestruck as he moans, eyes closing at the taste of you.

“Get inside me,” you tell him, “Right now.”

Art doesn’t need to be told twice, sitting up and pulling his boxers off as you lay on your back. Your eyes drift down his stomach to his cock. It’s pretty, just like the rest of him. Long, girthy, a neat tuft of dark sandy colored hair at the base. The tip flushed red and weeping as he strokes himself. 

“Condom?” you ask, and he nods, walking to his desk and rummaging through the first drawer. 

He comes up successful, ripping the wrapper with his teeth and rolling the condom on his length before crawling on top of you. You spread your legs for him as he lines himself up, rubbing the tip along your soaked slit. 

“Art, please put it in,” you whine, hips lifting.

“Jesus, I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up,” he says, shaking his head.

Your responding giggle is short-lived as he slowly sinks inside of you, filling you to the brim.

“Oh god,” you whimper, as he rests his forehead against yours.

“You okay?”

“More than okay,” you answer, cupping his cheek. He mirrors your action and you smile, a sudden burst of tenderness exploding in your chest, tears welling in your eyes. 

Art rotates his hips, pulling back and sinking back into your inviting warmth. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs, kissing your lips, “I’ve dreamt of this for years.”

“Me too,” you admit, wrapping your legs around his waist, “God, Art, I’ve wanted this forever.”

This spurs him on, his thrusts becoming quicker, more eager at your confession. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you whimper as he pounds into you, “Wanted this for so long—used to talk to….to Tashi about it—”

Art moves his hand along your side, reaching your thigh and hooking your leg over his shoulder.

“What’d you tell her?”

The new angle sends him deeper, the head of his cock rubbing perfectly against that spongy section of your walls that has your mouth dropping open in pleasure.

“Wanted you,” you manage as Art holds one of your hands above your head against the pillows, “Wanted this so bad.”

“I’ll give it to you,” Art says, his breath catching, “Fuck—oh god you’re so pretty like this, fuck.”

“Art!” you cry his name as your second orgasm builds, sneaking up on you as he slows his pace, “Why’d you—”

“Wanna savor this,” he says softly, kissing the tip of your nose. His thrusts have slowed, hips moving with leisure. 

The pressure in your belly continues to build as he smirks down at you. Tennis has done wonders to his stamina; he fucks you like he could keep this pace for hours, barely breaking a sweat. You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he kisses your neck, your hamstring burning deliciously with the stretch. 

“Please come for me,” he murmurs, right next to your ear, “I’ve got to feel that sweet little pussy come around my cock, please.”

You do as you’re told, spurred on by Art whispering praises and encouragement in your ear and you fall apart, clenching around his cock and milking him for all he’s worth. You feel his hips stutter, cock twitching inside your warmth as he follows your release with his own. Art’s lips find yours then, and you can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you like a drowning man coming up for air. 

You stay like that for several minutes, his cock softening as you kiss one another, before he slowly pulls out. He takes a moment to take off the condom, tying it off and tossing it in the trash before he rejoins you in bed.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you across his chest. 

You lie with your cheek pressed against his pec, listening to the gentle beating of his heart. He strokes your arm with his fingers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Did you mean what you said?” he asks, face buried in your hair, “About wanting me? This?”

“Mhmm,” you answer, putting all your cards on the table, “I may have harbored a small crush on you.”

Art picks up your hand measuring it against his own before lacing your fingers together.

“I wish I knew that earlier,” he admits, still holding your hand, “I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

You glance up at him between your lashes and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says with a smile.

“And here I thought Patrick was the only one who owned your heart,” you tease, causing him to playfully bite your wrist, “Hey!”

“Not the only one,” he admits, rolling you over onto your back, “I’m glad you got kicked out of your room last night.”

You lean up, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Me too.”

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your phone wakes you. The room tilts as you open your eyes. A dull hammering thrums in your temples. The morning light makes your brain rough as sand paper. 

Dregs of vodka stick to your dry tongue. The hangover weighs you down like an anchor. Just the thought of moving hurts. 

You reach blindly for your jittering phone. Bubbly music tinkles from the speaker. Shit. It's Barrett. What did he forget this time? 

You answer and put your clammy palm to your forehead. You squint at the ceiling then your eyes slowly round. Where the fuck are you?  

"Hey, babe. You at Wendy's?" Your husband asks. 

You gulp and peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth. This isn't Wendy's house. 

"Yep," you croak. Your eyes ping side to side. 

"Look, I'm sorry about last night. Things got heated and I know I was an ass--" 

You cough as you sit up in the strange bed. "Yeah, you were." 

"So why don't you come home and we can talk it out." 

You peer around the room and your lips curve in a frown. Where the hell would you go besides home your loyal best friend's? You scratch you scalp and turn your legs over the edge of the bed, "let me get myself together." 

"Babe. Please. I'm sorry." 

"When I get home." You hang up.  

It was a hell of fight. The minute he started yelling, you bailed. He knows better. You're not doing a ten hour day and coming home his nagging. So you left out your coffee mug. Big deal. You didn't say anything about the garbage bag he left out to be torn apart by raccoons. 

Whatever. Fighting over dishes. Not of it matters right now. 

Your clothes are on the floor. Someone's floor. Who it is is far from the point. You stand and stagger. You catch yourself on the nightstand. Your hand moves instinctively between your legs. 

You're naked and tender. Did you have sex? 

Think! You ran out with your purse. You went to Wendy's. She was up for a night out. A night to forget and body did you. First drink, second, third, then it gets blurry.  

Fuck! You didn't. You wouldn't. You're pissed at your husband but you wouldn't cheat on him. You're not that type of person. Right? 

You don't have time for that. You have to get out of here.  

You dress as you search the room. It's tidy. Half the bed is mad and the other half messed from your drunken slumber. 

You shake out your hands trying to shoo away the flurry of guilt and denial. Just get out. You'll think better with some coffee in your system.  

You push down the door handle slowly. You listen to the silence of the hall. You tiptoe out warily, checking left and right as you advance. It's a nice place. A condo. Much nicer than your cramped one bedroom. 

Not important! 

You come out into the spacious front room. It's as empry as the rest of the place. The kitchen too. The bathroom. No one. 

Your purse is by the door. Your shoes too. You grab both and let yourself out. You'd rather not face your mistake. 

No, you didn't do anything. You wouldn't. 

You hurry down the hallway to the elevators. You don't look back, just keep going. You don't think, just go. 

It isn't until you're outside the familiar cafe marquee that your let your mind settle. You enter and join the queue. Your order a black coffee and drink it at a stool by the window.  

You lean your elbows on the high table that stands inside the pane. You take a slow, savouring swig of coffee and let it trickle down your throat. You shield your face from the New York morning and put your hands over your ears. 

You can't remember anything but Wendy. Your anger had you ordering round after round, trying to drown out the bile. The thought makes your stomach lurch and you gulp thickly. 

You shake your head and groan. Your phone chirps. It's probably Barrett. Several messages from him and missed calls. All through the night. It's bad enough you betrayed him, you had him up worrying. 

No, you didn't! 

It can't have happened if you don't remember it. A generous stranger took you home so you didn't wake up on the curb. That's it. 

That's the story. Nothing happened. And you'll let Barret believe you were with Wendy. It won't make a difference. 

Your mind is set. Nothing happened. 

Nothing. Happened. 

Because you don't remember. Because you were too drunk to do that. Because you're married and it can't happen. 

You're going to finish your coffee and go home. Everything will be just like it was before... after you tell Barrett where to put that coffee mug if it's such a big deal. 

[lenoraslament]

Slytherin Boys React: Romantic Moments

After my last three posts, consider this aftercare.

Fluff 💕no warnings

Mattheo Riddle

It’s been raining for days. You convinced a reluctant Mattheo to duck into a coffee shop as it poured outside. The atmosphere was cozy and perfect. The rain beat steady on the window and the smell of coffee warmed you.

You both sit sipping hot chocolate, whipped cream unknowingly on your lip. Mattheo had been grumpy all day, but at the sight he grins.

“What?” You ask with a smile. Mattheo cups your chin with once hand, wiping the whipped cream off your lip with his own as you giggle. Then he brushes his lips against yours as he teases you ghosting a kiss leaving you flustered.

“You know I love you, yea?” He asks softly as he gives you another warm kiss. Your heart flutters and he brushes hair off your face, his eyes full of adoration.

“Yes I know,” you say breathlessly as he kisses you endlessly.

Theodore Nott

The biting cold air, makes you shivers your boyfriend looks unbothered in his coat. Another drag of cigarette smoke fills the air as it leaves his lips.

He’s as quiet as usual, forever lost in whatever quiet struggles he never wants to share with you. Theo observes you let out a shiver.

“Come here,” he says opening his coat, he pulls you forward. Your arm goes around his waist as he covers you both with the coat. You can smell his cologne and the smoke, his body warms you immediately as you sigh with relief.

“Better beautiful?” He asks in a low voice as he kisses the top of your head between drags.

Lorenzo Berkshire

It’s no secret that Enzo is popular with the ladies. Before you came along, he was quite the flirt. It comes natural to him, his charm. The way he can make a girl giggle and blush without much effort. And although he has reformed his ways, sometimes it just happens

You’re walking towards the Great Hall when you see a gaggle of girls surrounding your boyfriend. You’re secure in your relationship, so you only roll your eyes and laugh.

Enzo spots you immediately through the crowd, your little smirk making his eyes light up.

“Pardon me ladies” he says as he makes his way to you, grabbing your arm to pull you back before you get to far.

“Enzo it’s-“ you protest but he cuts you off before you can finish. He dips you back, kissing you in the way only Lorenzo Berkshire can.

“Sorry, I need some time with my girl,” he calls over to the group of fangirls he was talking to as his eyes stay glued to you. You both walk away as they all swoon.

Draco Malfoy

Draco was sitting in an armchair near the settee you draped yourself in the common room.

“Darling,” Draco’s voice snapped you out of your reading trance. You smiled over your book at him with an inquisitive look.

“Yes?” You asked tilting your head.

“Sit” he said in a low voice that made you blush as he patted his lap. His arms outstretched waiting for you as you sheepishly made your way over to him. He pulled you in his lap face nuzzling into your neck.

“I missed you beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin.

Your soft laugh makes him look up at you. “Draco, I am sitting less than two feet away,” your lips are nearly brushed against his as he holds the back of your neck gently.

“Still” he says as closes the distance between your lips.

Blaise Zabini

“It’s fifteen galleons,” your voice carries outside the dressing room.

“Well let’s see it then,” Blaise says, he’s been following you around Hogsmeade for the better part of the afternoon and you hopelessly look for a dress. The Yule ball on the horizon and you’re certain you will end up wearing your school uniform the way your shopping trip is going.

“It’s too expensive,” you insist, “I don’t even want to see it and risk liking it”.

Blaise hand plunges into the curtain of the fitting room pulling you out. You huff as you stand in front of the large mirror and are stunned. It’s gorgeous, clinging to your body in all the right places. A silvery blue making your cheeks look rosy, giving you an ethereal glow. It’s exactly what you want.

Before you groan in devastation, Blaise slips a hand around your waist from behind as he joins you in the mirror.

“You are perfection,” he whispers in your ear as he plants a soft kiss on your neck.

“It’s too exp-“ you begin to protest but he reaches back and rips off the tag making you gasp.

“We’ll take this one,” he says walking to the cashier to pay for the dress throwing you a wink.

Tom Riddle

All week you had spent trying your damnedest to understand this potion. Your boyfriend patiently explaining and re-explaining the complexity of the ingredients, the theories of brewing. Somehow it wouldn’t stick. Tom assured you that once you for in front of that cauldron it would all make sense.

It didn’t. The day of your exam, your mind went blank. Your professor sighed as he looked at the discolored gloop dripping out of your cauldron.

“I’ll give you an incomplete,” He said shaking his head, “you can make it up in a week Y/N but I have to say I’m disappointed,”

You nodded and thanked him as your heart sunk. The end of class was nearing and you dreaded seeing Tom. His grades were perfect, his standards impossibly high. Part of the connection you shared was your intellect. You felt tears of shame threatening to spill. When you saw him leaning against the wall outside your class, you let go.

Tom’s eyes widened as he observed your flushed cheeks covered in tears as you could only manage to shake your head. In an uncharacteristic panic he crossed the hall and immediately threw his arms around you as you sobbed onto his chest. The public display of his affection that never happened was not lost on you. His hand wiped your face and stroked your hair.

“Shh it’s okay,” he whispered against your forehead as he rubbed your back.

“You must think I’m an idiot,” you stutter out between hitching breaths.

His lips brush against your temple as he kisses it softly, “I think you’re brilliant.”

[spicy30]

Modernness of 1400s 004

Pairing: HOTD x Fem!Modern!Reader

Extra: The reader is noted to be bilingual (Spanish speaking) and is familiar with the majority of Latin-based languages, No use of Y/N

cw: suggestive themes

Rating: 18+

Not proofread

Tags: @fan-goddess @meowmeowmothermeower @bunxia @your-favorite-god @coolalienstatesmansports @qwerrtsworld @wegottastayfocus @dakota-rain666 @talilosha

WC: 10.7K

Your nails dug into your palms and your jaw was clenched. It was silent as you and Aemond walked beside each other. 

“Was my uncle the one to strike you?” Aemond asked beside you and your eyes twitched at the mention of your latest humiliation. 

“What do you think?” You spat out not even bothering to look at him as you stormed down the hall. Only one whole day here and you had gotten bitch slapped and then humiliated in front of potential boy toys. It was unacceptable! Not to mention you hadn’t eaten anything because you were scared that you would contract something. 

“Yes, Daemon backhanded me, and then he-” You took a deep breath calming yourself. It’s not cute when you get mad. “Sorry. Yes, Prince Daemon was the one to strike me as you say.” You turned to face Aemond who had no expression on his face. It unnerved you. 

“Why?” Was all he said before walking beside you at a slower pace. 

“Because I’m not a messiah, or a saint, or whatever it is you guys have here to perform miracles. What do I look like saving someone without an eye-” Oooh, yikes. You cringed at your wording suddenly remembering Aemond had an eye patch. “Sorry.”

Aemond didn’t acknowledge your apology. In fact he didn’t say anything. What went on in that head, you couldn’t say. The man never let out anything but a smile that always looked condescending. 

You cleared your throat to speak again instead of being in the awkward silence. “Anyways, he told me if I couldn’t heal him, he’d kill me. I told him there wasn’t much I could do and he was going to chop off my head and I stopped him, then he backhanded me.”  

“You? You stopped my uncle?” You could hear just a little bit of surprise in his voice and for some reason it filled you with pride to know you could evoke something like that out of him. 

You smiled towards him and you felt your cut split open once more. “Why do you think he had those bandages on his hand?” 

As you reached your chamber doors, you both stood looking at each other. That small smirk on his face he always had now slightly more pronounced and of course you with an innocent little smile while blood coated your bottom lip. 

“Well, thank you for walking me to my…” You fought the urge to say room. “Chambers.” You let a small silence fall before taking a deep breath and looking at him with a sincere expression. “And thank you, for pulling me away from Daemon.” You opened your doors and before you stepped inside once more you looked back towards the Prince with a small smile. “Goodnight Prince Aemond.” 

“Goodnight my lady.” He gave a nod before you turned away, closing the door. Walking inside the candle-lit room you sat down. It smelled like candle wax and not the good kind here, you needed to circulate the air but if you opened the window it’d smell terrible because people here lacked basic hygiene and still throw their bodily fluids outside windows. 

Like really? Out of all the places, you somehow ended up in medieval times? It couldn’t have been during Roman times when there were aqueducts and running water, public bathhouses, and a pretty good sewer system?

You sighed and sat down on a chair refusing to touch your bed until you were out of this dress. You looked around your room or chambers as they called them here. Standing up you went to the window touching the curtains. Well at the very least they had good windows. Opening up the curtains you watched the lights of the city. 

What were you doing here? What could you do here? Why were they keeping you around? Did they really think you were some sort of god-sent messenger? You already couldn’t heal the king and Daemon made it more than clear that he was willing to kill you. Would others? 

You just wanted to go home. You felt as if you were going mad without music. You’d kill to listen to some modern music but if you did your battery would go down and wasting the only thing you had left from where you came from and wasting it on music was not something you were going to do. 

“Oh god, I can’t.” You sighed out in frustration. The smell of candles was provoking a headache. Bad enough you were sensitive to smell, but now living in a smelly city!? God you just couldn’t! Walking away from the window you opened the doors. “Oh!” You let out a small yelp. 

Queen Alicent and her father stood there seemingly ready to knock. “Your grace, my lord.” You nodded, greeting both. “Please come in.” You invited them in and both entered as you closed the door. 

You cringed internally hoping your room wasn’t too messy. Your suitcase lay open showing countless bottles of shampoo, soaps, and conditioner among other things. 

“Sorry for the mess, I was not expecting visitors.” You spoke as you quickly went to close your suitcase. “You turned and smiled and fought the urge to hiss as you felt your lip crack again. Had to apply something to it. 

“How may I help you?” You asked as you gestured for them to sit down and you sat on the side of the table. (Was it a coffee table or a tea table? Did coffee exist here?) 

“I do hope you have been enjoying your stay here…” Otto trailed looking around your room. He spoke with such a tone that it made you sit up right. “You seem to have taken quite well with your quarters.” He made an off comment as he looked towards your clothes which lay on the ground. 

“I have, and I am grateful for the crown’s hospitality.” It was clear what the implication was. The only problem was that in all honesty, you were not one to enjoy such word games. You lost your temper too quickly, but here you were a guest, you had to comply with whatever rules they had. “Should there be a day the Crown may have use for certain knowledge I possess I would be most happy to oblige.” This is probably the most formal you have ever spoken to since arriving here, but it was necessary.

“Good, now earlier today you spoke of genetics I believe.” You nodded. “You said it determines offspring coloring…”

“Yes the phenotypes and genotypes, is there someone who you would wish to know their parentage?” You knew bastards were unwelcome here but to go as far as this? 

“How accurate would you say you can get the answer?” 

“It depends on how much information I can attain. I would need the appearances of as many relatives. Mother, father, alleged fathers, alleged mothers, grandmothers, grandfathers and so on. The more the better. My method is considered extremely accurate. I can give the possibilities of the phenotypes that a child would have depending on the parents, this of course can also be used to prove…” You leaned forward and looked through your lashes towards the father and daughter. “Bastardy, if one so wished of course.” 

“Such information is sensitive, I’m sure you can understand,” Otto murmured, looking at you with serious eyes. 

You looked towards Alicent with a stern look on your face. “Queen Alicent saved my life. I assure you, that hasn’t been forgotten. Now, who is my investigation on?”

“The children of Princess Rhaenerya.”

…

You groaned as the maids opened the blinds. “No stop! Don’t open the windows, it stinks out there, just leave the door open.” You sat up on your bed stretching. You looked over towards one of the two maids who had opened the curtains. “Get me…two bowls of freshly boiled water and one cup, please.”

“Would you like me to bring you one of the dresses the Queen has gifted you, my lady?” The second maid asked and you shook your head. 

“No need, I won’t be leaving my room today but what you can get me is fruits or oils. Oh, and get me a pot to melt things plus some scrap rope, I have work to do today.” You spoke as you yawned standing up and looking down towards the family tree you had made last night, a whole lot of incest in there. 

When the second maid left you sat down and stared at the family tree. Of course, you did not know whether white hair was recessive or dominant nor if black hair was recessive or dominant, usually however, black hair tended to be the dominant trait and of course, the hair color genotype was incomplete dominance. There were too many possibilities and just thinking about it you felt overwhelmed.

“Oh my god, I don’t wanna do this.” You groaned out and just then both maids came back. You smiled and stood up walking away from your desk. “Beautiful. Leave me, I will call you when I need you.” Both maids bowed and left. Skipping to your suitcase you pulled out a tube of toothpaste and your toothbrush. “Oh, yuh!” You grinned and set your things down. You rinsed your face with the warm water cleaning your face. Then squeezing out a good amount of toothpaste you happily began brushing your teeth. 

After brushing your teeth feeling clean and refreshed you went over to smell the oils they brought you. Each with its own label. You squint your eyes muttering a curse. It was hard to read cursive written like this, though eventually you got the name. Six oils they had brought you, lavender, thyme, meadowsweet, marjoram, germander, and hyssop. All smelled quite nice so you’d make them all into scented candles. Going around the room you look at all the candles from the candle holders and dump them into a pot where to proceed to melt them all. You’re sure that scented candles already existed but honestly, you didn’t want to do the whole genetics equation just yet. You’d rather do a thousand other things than work on that stupid problem. 

You spent the better part of the day making your little candles, though you didn’t like the humidity that crept into your room. But now at least it didn’t smell bad inside your room, you didn’t want to ruin that by opening the window. Besides you were familiar with humidity, it never got better when you opened a window. 

Every day seemed to be a cruel monotonous day. You thought that being in a different era of time would result in more than you slaving over a desk testing out different possibilities of punnett squares so you get the most accurate answer you can. After all, if you got this wrong, well you’re sure it’s going to be your head on the chopping block. You got close enough last time and after nearly dying once, you can confidently say, this was NOT worth your life. 

You had initially thought that the white was received but that changed due to Jocelyn Baratheon being able to pass on her hair color to Princess Rheanys, but it was a different story when you looked at the Queen’s children, all white hair. 

“So what is it!? Okay, we know it’s heterozygous, but is the Queen’s brown hair homozygous recessive then or is it also heterozygous? Does that even matter?” You gave out a yell of frustration. “Ugh! Where are the French when you need them!? That one song, Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira, les aristocrates à la lanterne! Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira les aristocrates on les pendra!” Standing up from your spot you felt a sweat bead fall down your back. It was so hot you felt like you were going to die. 

On the fourth day, however, the heat became unbearable. “Fuck! I need a fan or sum!” You went and plopped yourself on your bed sighing. As you laid out you groaned as your back straight out. You don’t know how many hours you spent hunched over that stupid equation. You looked at your phone which was on the stand. “I deserve a song, maybe a movie.” Crawling you grabbed it and turned it on. Scrolling through your downloaded songs you fanned yourself. Finally, you settled on a song and as it began playing you walked around your room fanning yourself. Mid-song a huge grin grew on your face. Rolling up that damned family tree you pulled out another piece of paper and began sketching whole loudly singing the song that played in the background. After about an hour of your playlist playing a rough draft of a fan was born. 

You had no electricity, but a little inertia should do the trick. You went to your phone and powered it off once more before stepping outside and calling in the nearest maid ordering her to dress you. 

After being dressed you took your plans and headed off to find the blacksmith. Though mid-way walking through the castle you paused. You didn’t know where you headed. Walking around trying to find anyone, a door suddenly opened on your right. You backed away and Aemond came out looking towards you. You smiled. “Hey! Prince Aemond, where are you coming from?” You looked behind him to see a large dark room but before you could see anymore the doors closed. 

“The library.” He answered with a flat tone looking you over. 

“Oh! I didn’t know you guys had one, I’ll definitely have to check it out later.” You spoke in a cheery voice. This was perfect. A prince would certainly know the best blacksmith around. 

An awkward moment of silence passed. As he kept his eyes on you, you felt self-conscious and were suddenly aware of the fact that you had no makeup on and that the ugly bruise on your face was showing. Eager to have him focus on something else other than your face you spoke up. “Well! Prince Aemond, you wouldn’t happen to know a blacksmith…would you?”

“A blacksmith? Why would a lady such as yourself, require a blacksmith?” He looked you up in a questioning manner. 

“I need something made.” You answered and you could feel the judgment radiating off of him.

“Armor?” Aemond scoffed out.

“Goodness no. I’ve never even swung a real sword. I need other things made, and a blacksmith is the best I could come up with.” You ignored his tone and responded with a smile. You needed that blacksmith.

“What do you need to make?” Aemond pressed.

Rolling your eyes you responded. “Six spheres, two annuli, and five blades.” You watched his face and saw confusion on his face and you resisted the urge to give a smug smirk. 

“Hm.. and do you have money for a blacksmith?” He smiled down at you and you paused. No…you actually didn’t have any money.

“Hmmm…no.” You purse your lips and squint your eyes at him. You stepped away from him and pointed at him. “I’ll be back tomorrow or sometime.” That was all you said before you walked away. 

“My Lady, the King requests your presence.” A maid told you as we were just about to enter your room. You sighed and nodded letting the maid guide you to the King’s chamber room. 

“Your Grace,” You greeted looking towards the old man in the bathtub. “You summoned me?” You walked over to stand in front of the naked man. You tried not to let your eyes wander. It was not something you wished to see.

“The hot baths and the daily disinfecting work fine, but you have forbidden drinking wine. What am I to drink? Just water?” King Viserys heaved out and pursed your lips in thought. 

“A drink?” You observed the King, his skin was weak, gray and his bones were showing. He lacked nutrients. IV would work, but you didn’t know how to administer it and would rather not risk your first time putting a needle into someone who could have your head. “A juice of berries is something you can do. However, I will do my best to create a drink that helps your condition.” 

Great something else to add to your already long to-do list. Couldn’t the man just die already!? The Princess ascends to the throne, and you figure out how to return home without killing yourself.  

As you looked down towards the sickly man the gears in your head turned. Coffee could maybe give the allusion to feeling better, but where did coffee beans even come from? You couldn’t recall. Energy drinks were out of the question, and you had no clue how to even make them. Excess sugar? You didn’t know. Maybe some coconut water would help him. Coconut was good for people no? Maybe some milk? 

No wait, what if he was lactose intolerant? You saw their versions of toilets. Not cute, you hated using them. It was disgusting. 

“How long will you have me wait?” Viserys spoke out once more in a heaving tone. 

“I’ll have it for you by tomorrow.” You stood still and the room full of Maester stared at you. “Oh umm, your grace. Excuse me.” You corrected yourself before leaving the room. As you walked down the hallways you saw a familiar green dress. 

“Queen Alicent!” You greeted me with a smile. She only nodded towards you. “A small update on my work, I have figured out several potential linkages of genetics, I won’t be able to calculate percentages until next week give or take.” 

Alicent sighed and nodded. 

“...Along with that, can I ask for some…money?” You looked away from her as you asked. You hated asking for money. It was not something you were raised with. When given money it was polite to refuse it until you couldn’t. Asking for money was always out of the question. You even hate asking for your parent’s money. 

“Money? What for?” She responded and you played with the rings on your fingers.

“I am making something, it is to help me with my work.” You looked up from the floor and towards Alicent. You saw her give a small nod. “My deepest gratitude.” You bowed. 

“I will arrange a meeting with the master coin this afternoon.”

…

“Who’s that for?” A familiar voice sounded next to you. You rolled your eyes as you continued walking forward away from Aegon. 

“Not for you.” You had not spoken to Aegon since the dinner. After all, the man had pushed you. Granted, you did land in Jacaerys arms, which was not a bad thing, but still. It was the principal, and recently, you had heard of bad things he had done. Abusing maids, bastard children, and he was an alcoholic. Not the company you wished to keep. 

“I haven’t seen you in a week, not since our dance. I quite enjoyed our time together.” He spoke walking beside you trying to see what was inside the pitcher you were holding.

“I’m sure you did.” You answered in a flat tone and he stopped walking with a small frown on his face. 

“Are you upset with me?” He asked you, looking you up and down. 

“Did you do something to upset me? Because if you did then I am, but if you did not then I am not upset.” You looked away from him hugging the pitcher closer to you.

“What is with these riddles, woman? I asked you a question. Answer it plainly.” He rolled his eyes at you running to catch up with you.

“I did.” You gave a hum and walked into the chambers of King Viserys. 

Leaving Aegon behind you walked over to King Viserys who was on a table having his wounds disinfected. “I’ve brought a drink, it improves hydration, muscle health, nerve function, blood pressure regulation, pH balance, and heart health” Or at least that’s what your health teacher told you when you had a class assignment to make electrolyte drinks from scratch. 

You poured a glass for him and gave it to him as he sat up drinking it. He let out a sound of contentment while nodding. “This is good. What does it have?” You smiled, setting down the pitcher filled with electrolyte water. 

“Ah, just basic things, a little bit of sugar for energy, then some sea salt, then finally some orange juice. Nothing too complicated. I’d drink it once every two days, it’s filled with a lot of nutrients, and too much can cause damage to the body. However, when you wish to drink it, simply ask the kitchen for an energy drink and they’ll make it.” You walked around, filled another chalice and offered it to the head Maester who took it drinking just a bit to test out your latest concoction. 

“Thank you,” Viserys spoke with a more steady voice than he had in the last week you had spoken to him. He also seemed to sit a lot straighter. Maybe the old man had more than just a couple of weeks. No casket just yet! “I need less milk of the poppy these days to help me sleep, though I do occasionally have trouble, do you have anything for that?”

Damn! Damn, that old needy man! 

There were melatonin gummies but you didn’t know how to make gummies, much less what melatonin was made out of. “Em…drink…lavender tea or have the oils sprinkled in your room. It relaxes the body, and uhh… read a boring book. It’ll knock you right out.” You gave a grin at your joke.  

Viserys smiled and nodded, giving thanks. 

“Of course, it is the least I can do for the Crown's continued hospitality towards me.” With that, you bowed and excused yourself to start your search mission for a certain one-eyed prince. You needed that blacksmith, this heat was killing you and honestly, you can’t stand sleeping without a blanket but it’s too hot with one. 

You walked around till you finally found the library and entered. The first thing you smelt was dust. “Ugh! Goodness, do I have to invent dusters too!?” Sniffling you walked around searching for long white and impossibly straight hair. You smiled as you saw him reading a book. Walking up to him you set the bag of gold you had recently gotten from Alicent in front of him. “I have the money, now, about that blacksmith,” 

Aemond gave a sigh closing the book. “You’ll find blacksmiths on the street of steel.” 

“Seriously?” Your unimpressed expression said it all. “That's what the street is called? M’kay.” You turned around and as you went to walk off. 

“Not many women buy armor.” Aemond pointed out and you stopped thinking about his statement. That’s right, this was an…unevolved society, not that yours was super better, but still a little. They’d probably try to upsell you…like a car dealership when a car needs an oil change or when the tires need to be rotated. (As if the tires didn’t rotate when you drove.)

You walked over to Aemond with the sweetest smile you mustered. “You’re right, I need a man to come with me. Maybe someone from the city will watch?” You batted your eyelashes, it was just your luck that you did put on a little mascara and some blush today. “Unless,” You leaned over the table and walked your fingers to his book while looking up towards him through your lashes. You’d probably get a better deal and a better blacksmith while having the prince. 

“I have better things to do.” He responded in a flat tone but you didn’t miss the little smirk on his face. Though you didn’t know if that was just his resting face or something else. 

“Aren’t curious to know what I’m inventing? I know you don’t know what an annuli is. I am the next biggest step in technology, aren’t you supposed to be the smart one or something? I thought this would elicit some kind of reaction.” You sighed looking away from him and instead looked towards the ceiling leaning back on the table. “I guess not. I wonder who the smart one is then, perhaps the least expected one. Aegon? Maybe the woman, Helaena, wouldn't that be something?” 

“What are you inventing?” He spoke as you stood upright to leave. A smile grew on your face and you turned to him. “You’ll be the first one I show once it’s done. Promise.” You held out your pinky. He only looked at it. You grabbed his left hand and formed a fist on his hand leaving out the pinky. “You just wrap it around mine and this…” You looked at your pinkies intertwined with a smile. “Means a promise.” 

…

You sighed with a big smile on your face as you wiped the sweat from your brow away. You grabbed some small bottles of shampoo and filled each one with water before you attached it to one of the five blades until each had its own bottle. 

“Moment of truth.” You sighed out feeling jittery hoping that your hypothesis was right. You spun it as hard as you could and your makeshift fan spun fast blowing sweet cool air toward you drying the sweat from your face. You stood there for a couple of moments taking in the air seeing if the fan would slow down and to your satisfaction, it didn’t. 

You giggled with excitement as you jumped and pumped your fist in the air. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Nikola Tesla who!? Who needs electricity? Not me! Yes!” You relished your victory in front of your fan as the cool air flowed and gave you a nice breeze under your night clothes. Finally being able to relax you sat down sighing out in contentment. “This…this deserves a song!” You jumped onto your bed and began playing a song on your playlist as you danced around your room singing along. Mid celebration dance your stomach rumbled. Stopping you raised a brow realizing that your maids hadn’t brought you breakfast yet. Sighing you opened the door only to see Prince Jacaerys and his betrothed Princess Baela looking rather suspicious. 

“Your grace? Graces?” What do you call multiple royals? You made a mental note to ask Alicent when you met her later tonight. Though Jacaerys was quick to look away. You understood the guy probably didn’t have much experience with girls, but this was a bit much no? 

“My lady! You are a nightgown!” Baela spoke in a shocked tone and you looked down. It wasn’t like you were naked and this was rather covering, besides, you had shorts on under the dress. 

“Oh, so that's what this is called. I thought it went under the dress.” You spoke in a nonchalant tone. Why would this be such a big deal?

“No, you wear those to sleep. My lady it is midday.” Baela spoke once again, clearing her throat. Has it really been that long? You had begun assembling your fan in the early hours of the morning when you couldn’t sleep due to the heat. 

“Oh really? I guess time does fly by. Anyways I wear this all day, it provides good airflow, but I’m guessing this is not appropriate attire by his reaction….” You eyed Jacaerys if this was perhaps the first time he has seen calves and ankles on a woman before. That thought made you giggle. He’d faint if he saw the shorts for women’s sports. “Well I came to ask the maids to deliver me breakfast or I suppose lunch now. I do have a lot of work to do.”

“Breaking your fast? At this hour?” Baela asked and you gave a little annoyed sigh. You always ate late due to pressing matters. (Stupid genetic problems.)

“Yeah, they got me slavin’ me away. The work I’m doing right now takes priority and I’m allowing myself a small break to eat a bit.” You complained. You’d talk anyone’s ear off if given the chance about how much you didn’t want to do that stupid little genetic equation. 

“Okay well… if you see any maids.” You snapped while pointing at them both with a small smile. “Send 'em my way.” You then pointed to yourself and with that, you turned around and went back into your room. 

Finally happy with the fan in your room you sat down going back to the genetic problem. However, before you even picked up your writing utensil you promptly dropped giving a loud groan. “Argh! I don’t want to do this.” You said to no one before leaning back on the hard chair. “I’m actually not gonna do this, I’m gonna try something else.” You sighed and stood up not bothering to close the equations. Not like anyone could understand it at first glance. Hell even when you looked at it you got lost, and you made it! 

You didn’t bother writing out the names and only followed the main branch of the family. What it looked like was a whole bunch of random letters with squares and some math. Total mumbo jumbo to anyone else. At least you hope, you know Otto assigned illiterate maids to you, that man really did think of everything, and no one else ever came into your room aside from Otto and Alicent who would look and give a hum before leaving. You doubted they understood this. Besides the initials of the family blended in with the punnet squares. 

The door opened and there stood a maid who looked like she was shaking. You raised a brow. You never had maids before but quickly came to understand that people here saw them less than human. Therefore, due to never having maids, you treated them fairly well, why this one was shaking you couldn’t say. “Bring me more bed covers. The white thin ones, a needle and thread, and bring me something to eat.” But alas you had bigger problems than a maid who looked scared of you. If anything, a fearsome reputation was better here. “Remember no meat, preferably vegetables and fruits washed with boiled water.” You didn’t trust the meat here, there was no refrigerator to keep the meat fresh and that meant bacteria. Now you were rarely one to get sick but your immune system, you reckon, was a lot weaker here and you were vulnerable to any sickness so keeping yourself healthy and clean was paramount especially because modern medicine didn’t exist here.

While the fan was nice you definitely wanted a cooler spot and you also needed a cold place to sleep so that you could cuddle into your blankets, relishing in your own body heat. For that, you were going to create a little pod that would have a constant flow of cool air. 

Soon that scared little maid from before came with bed sheets and a needle and thread. You smiled and walked over to her, going to take the things from her. Your hand brushed her hands and she flinched away before apologizing profusely. Alright that was doing a bit much. “What is it? Why are you scared?” 

She shook her head incessantly. Your patience was thinning and you tossed the things onto your bed. “You either tell me why you’re scared or I’m gonna give you a reason to be really scared of me.”

“They say you are rabid.” She spoke and looked like she was gonna start crying. This girl couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old.  

“Whaaaat?” Your brow lifted and you tilted your head looking at the girl. 

“They saw your mouth foaming every morning when the maids come to take away the bowls you have every morning. Not only that but they all claim you are mad as well. The mysterious symbols on the paper and of course you spend ample time talking to yourself and some even claim that being around you for too long makes them go mad as well as they can hear melodies coming from your room and then they begin humming the melody.” The maid spoke. 

You looked her up and down giving a slow blink and your mouth was open. No way, they're going to claim you are a witch! “Seriously?” You asked the young maid nodded feverishly. 

You scoffed and laughed. “What’s your name?” You asked with a grin on your face. 

“Dyana if it pleases m’lady.” She spoke out quickly while keeping her eyes on the floor. 

“Oh, like Wonder woman.” You commented looking her up and down and she had a confused expression on her face. “Well Dyana, let me show you something.” Your bowl of water was still here when you pulled out your toothbrush. “This is a toothbrush, it is to clean your teeth.” You gave a wide grin to give her a good look at your white clean teeth. “My teeth are in much better condition than everyone here and I’m sure my breath smells better, at least I hope. Does it?” You tilted your head with a brow raised.

Dyana nodded and you smiled. “Okay now look here, this is toothpaste.” You showed her the tube and squeezed a very small glob out. You already brushed your teeth today and your supply was limited. You made a mental note to discover how to create toothpaste. “Okay now you wet it and,” You began brushing your teeth and you saw Dyana’s eyes widen as white foam started to form on your teeth. “See?” You spoke with a mouth full. You spit it into the water and then began fully brushing your teeth. Once you were done you cleaned your face and rinsed your toothbrush. 

“I’m not rabid, I’ll have you know I am fully vaccinated. This is just part of me keeping clean. Along with that, people and animals with rabies are hydrophobic.” Dyana only stared and you gave a disappointed sigh. You can’t blame her for being uneducated but it got to a certain point where you were tired of explaining basic things. “Hydrophobia means one has an irrational fear of water and cannot physically consume it or even touch it. I would’ve died by now if I was rabid. The human body can only go about two days without water and as you can see it’s been well over a week.”  

She nodded trying to understand. “It’s in the name. Hydro is derived from the Latin root of the word "hydro" is hydr-, which comes from the Greek word hýdōr, meaning "water" then there's phobia meaning fear which is also derived from Latin as well and there is also a Greek version. Though that one is phobos which is fear in old greek. So if you put both together you get hydrophobia. Yeah?” You nodded trying to explain this to her and to your surprise she seemed very interested. Though a small hint of confusion clouded her face. 

“Latin and greek?” She asked almost like tasting the words on her tongue. 

“Yes, Latin is a base language forming other languages like Spanish, French, Portuguese, Italian, Catalan, and Romanian among others. It also is in some English or what you all call the common tongue. I just happen to be fluent in one the latin based language and so then that leads me to be very familiar with other latin based languages like the ones I just listed.” As you explained Dyana’s attention was on you absorbing everything you said like a sponge. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

“So how many tongues do you speak?” Dyana asked and you gave a smug smile. “Fluently, two, but I can carry basic conversations in French, Portuguese, and Italian.” It was a point of pride for you. 

“Very impressive m’lady. The royal family and the Valeryrons also speak another tongue, one from old Valyria. Majority speak Valyrian, like they do in the free cities.”

“Hm, I wonder what the base language is for it.” You nodded looking around the room. “Well did you have the kitchen prepare my food?” 

“Oh yes m’lady. Another maid should bring it.” Dyana responded by letting herself out. 

“No. I want you to bring it to me, Dyana. From now on, I only want you in my service. I will show you new things, if you want extra payment. Knowledge, especially here, is invaluable.” If everyone thought you were mad you couldn’t risk anyone messing with your food. Besides you didn’t know how hygienic the other maids were, at least you could teach Dyana basic hygiene and maybe she could spread it. You heard maids always gossiped. 

…

A scream woke up and you shot up shivering and wrapping your warm blanket around you but all you saw was white. “M’lady!” Dyana ran to you looking inside your little make-shift pod. 

“What is Dyana!? What is this madness!?” It was your first night trying out your latest invention. It had surprisingly taken you quite a while to sow everything tight enough so that now air would escape from the back or the sides. 

“Please forgive me m’lady I was simply surprised to see..this.” She gestured to your little pod. It must’ve looked strange seeing a white thing and not seeing you. Sighing you shook your head, though you quickly got out of bed to start preparing yourself for today.

As you were brushing your teeth you told Dyana to prepare a carriage for the dragon pit. 

“Why are you going to the dragon pit m’lady?” You looked up to her and smiled foam covering your mouth. 

“I’m going to go claim my winnings, Dyana and perhaps the favor of a Prince.” You spit and rinse your mouth. 

“Do you need help dressing?” Dyana looked concerned looking towards you. She hadn’t had the best experience with the one prince she had worked for, though you didn’t know that. She hoped it wasn’t Aegon that you were meeting. 

“No, but once you’re done arranging for a carriage or horse, it doesn't matter, bring me a cloak.” You ordered and Dyana bowed as you began preparing yourself for the day. Doing light makeup and taking out the only other outfit you had in your suitcase. Pulling out black capris and a brown ​​sleeveless halter top with a draped neckline you smiled. If this went right, you’d score more than the spoils of a bet. 

Fixing the small bits of hair you looked at yourself through your hand mirror. A shame they didn’t have bigger mirrors. You heard a gasp from behind and you saw Dyana with a black cloak in her hands. “M’lady, are you sure you should go out dressed in such a manner?”

“He told me to come in pants and I haven’t washed my other pants yet.” You shrugged, took your coat and slipped on the only shoes you had which were some sandals that you wore the day you fell off that bridge. Goosebumps coated your body as you thought about the unfortunate events that took place that day.

“Okay Dyana take me to the carriage. When you come back, clean my room, but don’t touch the desk, also please wash the sheets and once you’re done take the rest of the day off and when I return we can resume your lessons. If you finish before I’m back then feel free to continue learning the basics of English literature or simply relax, okay?” You spoke as you both walked to the courtyard where your ride was waiting. 

As you stepped outside you gagged. “God it smells like shit.” Taking out a small perfume bottle you always kept on you, you sprayed some on the collar of the cloak so that you could smell it while you rode through the city. Walking to the carriage you covered your nose while the coachman greeted you. You have a smile but you doubt he saw it. 

“M’lady.” He opened the door for you and you nodded speaking out a muffled thank you. As you sat in the carriage you closed all the windows and kept your nose covered but as it moved you began to feel sick. The smell and not being able to see that you were moving were doing a real number on your motion sickness. You heard the clattering outside and you wished you could go faster. 

You simply closed your eyes trying to recenter yourself and inhaling the perfumed cloak. It was the longest thirty minutes of your life. The door opened and instead of the smell of feces it now smelled like a cow farm. 

“Good Lord! Is there anywhere that smells just normal?” You muttered out making your way out. As you stood a wave of nausea hit you like a bus and you gagged once more. A hand extended and you took it. You looked up towards Jacaerys and he gave a smile while greeting you. You’d return it but you turned around before you could and gagged once more, only there was nothing to throw up as you gripped the side of the carriage. 

Damn medieval times. 

“Yeah, just uh…give me a second,” You gagged again. Desperately you wanted to throw something up to get rid of this headache that was starting to form.  “Sorry, motion sickness, and the city doesn’t exactly smell the best.” You reassured him. 

“You’d like it better on Dragon Stone.” He spoke in a low-tone and your brows shot up, not that he could see and if it wasn’t for you trying to throw up you’d say something back to encourage his implications. Instead all you could offer was a small hum before composing yourself and turning around facing him with a smile as you took off your hood. 

Time to focus, you were winning this bet and reaping your reward. “Sorry. Okay now, let's go see that wager.” Jacaerys offered his hand with a smile and you took it. You walked to the Dragon pit. 

“I want you to meet my dragon, Vermax.” You fought scoffing. Yes, it would be cool to see a komodo dragon but come on, if that was the best he could offer you so had this in the bag. Though you were quickly made to eat your words as the ground shook below you and your jaw dropped as a big olive-green with orange frills and orange eyes walked out from the dark pit. The only thing you could say was ask the most obvious question with the most obvious answer. 

“IS THAT A DRAGON!?”

“It is my lady.” Jacaerys let go of your hand walking to his dragon as it bumped its snout against Jacaerys. You stood still unable to process what you were seeing. This was a dragon, a real dragon. With wings and everything. Your words were caught in your throat and you felt like crying. It was overwhelming and you didn’t know what you were feeling. You felt your eyes water just a bit before blinking them away. 

Jacaerys frowned and quickly went to your side to ask if you were alright. As he stood next to you, you were quick to smell the dragon’s scent on him, but honestly that was the last thing on your mind. “Are you crying? I do apologize to my lady, I swear it, he will not harm you. We can leave if you’d like.”

“No! No, it’s just, that.. that’s a dragon!” You looked towards it with a smile. “A real dragon, like with…like, like, like with wings and, and…wait! Can it breathe fire?” You asked him and the smile on Jacaerys’s face said it all. 

He pulled you to the side. “Vermax! Dracarys!” You watched in awe as the dragon breathed hot flames that you felt the heat even if the dragon was blowing them in the air. 

You laughed looking towards Jace who shared your smile. “Oh my god!? Oh my goodness! This is- wha-!?” Words escaped you. You didn’t know how to describe this. “I fear the words I feel right now have not yet been invented.” 

“Yes, a dragon certainly makes for quite a sight.” He laughed as he held you close to him making sure Vermax knew not to harm you.

“Quite a sight!? No this is- this is! I can’t even say!” You tore yourself from Jacaerys’s grip and you turned to face him with a smile. “Y’know, imma pretty sore loser and I don’t admit defeat often, but this-” You turned around gesturing to his dragon. “I reckon you might just have me beat.”

“I thought you had dragons,” He spoke with a smug smile on his face but at this moment you couldn’t bring yourself to comment on it.

“Not like this. This is something straight outta a fairy tale.” You smiled looking towards the majestic creature. When you first woke here, you saw silhouettes but you thought you were just hallucinating. It was unthinkable that dragons were real. You paused to think. If dragons existed here, then what else was here in this world. Was there actual magic here? There was so much to learn!

“I was going to take you on dragonback. Of course if you-” Jacaerys coaxed you looking down towards you. 

“Say no more, say no more, say no more,” You spoke rapidly. “How do I get on?” You smiled towards him. Like hell you’d miss the chance to ride a dragon.

“Are you sure you are ready for it?” Jacaerys offered you a chance to back out. Were you scared of heights? Yes, but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If you fell, you’d die happy or maybe you’d get sent back home. Either way, no way you were missing this chance. 

“You could even take me Dragon Stone and show me why I’d like it more than here.” You offered with a teasing smile to encourage him. You saw him stiffen just a bit before giving a small shy smile and nodding. 

Walking behind you he took your hand extending it to the dragon. You closed your eyes looking away as you kept your hand out. You felt like Hiccup from How to Train a Dragon. 

You felt warm scales on your hand. Opening your eyes looking into the orange eyes. You breathed out a sigh of relief as you rubbed the dragon, a smile growing on your face. 

“Hi,” You spoke in a sweet tone like you did to all animals that you came across. “Hi baby,” You stepped closer pressing yourself against the dragon petting it and giving small scratches where dogs usually enjoyed it and you felt your body rumble as the dragon let out a sound. You gave a giggle, mumbling out praises in Spanish with a baby voice. You had forgotten Jacaerys was behind you until you heard a little laugh and you cringed. 

Damn!

Your face felt hot as you felt shame creep up on you. You cleared your throat giving one more pat before turning around. “Okay… you didn’t see that.” You walked away from him and Jacaerys followed.

“I’m afraid I did, My Lady.” He spoke with a smile and you rolled your eyes. 

“Kay, let's not. Now how do I get on?” You spoke trying to erase the embarrassing moment away. 

“Here my lady.” He climbed up the dragon helping you up. You sat behind him looking around for any kind of safety measure and to your displeasure there wasn’t any. Listen, yes you had just said you’d be fine dying but that doesn’t mean you wanted to.

“Where are the seatbelts?” You asked him and he turned to you, raising a brow. 

“Seatbelt?” He laughed out loud. He didn't know what those were.

“Safety measures?” You tried again only to be met with the same look. 

You sighed. Of course that didn’t exist yet, but they had to stay on somehow. “How do you stay on?”

“You hold on tight.” He gave a grin. 

“What!?” And before you could register Vermax moved forward. You gave a scream and hugged Jacaerys’s waist holding yourself close to him. “This is barbaric!” You yelped out and the only response you got was his laugh.

“Soves Vermax.” Jacaerys called and you recognized the wording it sounded similar to some word that you know meant fly. As Vermax continued forward and opened his wings, you definitely now knew what the word meant. 

You groaned as the wind pushed against you and you felt gravity push you down as Vermax lifted himself into the sky. You gripped Jacaerys clothes as hard as you could and suddenly your cloak flew off. 

“Oops!” You turned and watched your cloak fly off in the distance. “Oh well…” You murmured turning back and pressing the side of your face on Jacaerys back. 

You felt him look back towards you. He saw your face pressed against him as your eyes were squinted trying to adjust to the harsh wind.

“Not many can keep their eyes open on their first flight.” He spoke as Vermax finally steadied in the air. 

You furrowed your brows looking up towards him. “You’ve brought other women up here with you before?” 

Jacaerys stiffened and shook his head. “No.”

“Then how do you know?” You asked him. 

“When I first took my brother Joffrey up with me, he couldn’t keep his eyes open.” He responded with a smile recalling the memory. 

“Oh.” It was all you said before resting your face against him once more looking down towards the ocean. “How far is Dragon Stone?” You asked and he leaned back looking towards you again. 

“Not far on Dragonback but about a week's trip on ship.” He responded, turning back to steer Vermax up again to feel you hold on to him tighter. It was a little mischievous but he figured no one else was around to see, so it was fine. 

Finally breaking through the clouds you let out a sound of wonder looking through the clouds. “Yeah I think you might’ve just won this wager.” 

Jacaerys only responded with a laugh. 

You inhaled the clean air. Much better than King’s Landing. “It is better up here. Fresher…” You breathed out a jittery breath. “But colder.” You missed your cloak. 

“We’ll be there soon.” Jacaerys spoke and you hummed and nodded trying to take in the rays of sun trying to ignore the cold air. 

For the flight you both stayed quiet as you took in his body heat trying to warm yourself. The sight was truly breath-taking. 

“We’re here.” You heard Jacaerys speak and you looked over his shoulder seeing the grand castle. 

“Woah, nice place.” You commented but you felt your stomach drop as you saw Vermax’s head angle itself down. “Wait wait wait!” You screamed as Vermax dove. Just as you dove, you felt him steady out and you shook as Vermax landed. “Oh god,” You breathed out as you kept your tight grip on Jacaerys even though Vermax had now landed. 

A cold gust of wind chilled you. You regret wearing this sleeveless halter top. You don’t how long you stayed attached to Jacaerys before he asked if you were okay. You didn’t trust yourself to speak so you only nodded into his back. 

“Ready to get down?” He asked and once more you nodded. He slid down Vermax’s wing landing on a soft patch of grass. As he looked up his breath hitched. Once again Jacaerys looked away while helping you down. 

He heard a laugh from you and turned to you. “Don’t be such a prude, they’re just clothes.” You flicked his forehead and he rubbed it when you turned away as Vermax flew away. 

“So this is Dragon Stone?” You asked, looking around. He had taken you to the highest point of Dragon Stone away from the actual castle. He’d rather his mother didn’t find out about this little flight you two took. Daemon already didn’t like you and his mother was skeptical of you ever since you showed up that night in a green dress. 

“It is. Do you like it?” He mumbled as he stood behind you. He saw you nod and turn to him with a smile. You looked quite nice today, even if your hair was messy from the wind and your clothes brought up a feeling he’d rather not look into. 

“I do. You were right, this place is much better than King’s Landing. Smells a lot better here.” You sat down on the grass looking towards the sea and he saw your face drop a bit. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting next to you. 

“I came here by sea. Sometimes I wonder if I can go back by sea.” You spoke never facing him. 

“You want to go back?” Jacaerys asked and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

“Why wouldn’t I? I miss my home, my family, my friends, and there was a guy I was pining after too.’ You purse your lips nodding looking at him. 

Once again another emotion Jacaerys would rather not name came up when you mentioned you wanted to be courted by someone else. This was wrong. He was promised to Baela. He shouldn’t feel this way, he shouldn’t have brought you here. Though Jacaerys could not find it in him to regret bringing you here. 

He sighed and turned away from you. “What is..your home like?” Would it hurt to know more about you? No he doesn’t think so. (Yes it does.)

You smiled. “My home is…very different from here. We don’t have dragons for one.” You giggled out. “But we have airplanes and cars. Modern technology I think would really shock you.” You turned to him only to find him already facing you. This time however, Jacaerys did not look away from you and all of a sudden you felt your face grow hot. You coughed out a laugh. “Obviously as you can see our clothes are different and our music is different and we have movies and TV shows.” 

“What are cars and airplanes, and movies and TV shows?” He asked. They were words he never heard before but was eager to learn. 

“Well…” For the next couple of hours you both spent speaking to each other about where you came from and explaining how your modern life was. Everything from schooling systems, water systems, judicial systems, the government and of course spoke about global issues such as wars and global warming. 

“It sounds…complicated.” Was all he could say. Weapons of war that could wipe out an entire city four times the size of King’s Landing, cities that housed millions of people, the planet heating up too fast, and the obvious power struggle between countries among other things you mentioned. Of course there were also the good things such as it smelled a lot better where you came from due to ‘sewer systems’ and proper hygiene. 

“It is and sometimes it is overwhelming thinking of it. It takes a lot to make an impact in the world now, but it’s what I want to do. That’s why I have to go back. I need to continue my schooling so that I can specialize in a field and perhaps one day develop something new that will have my name in history books and something will make me a lot of money.” You smiled towards the end of your sentence. 

“Can’t you do that here?” He mumbled out looking away from you. “The King already looks much better since you’ve arrived.” It was wrong, he shouldn’t try to convince you to stay here. You had a home and that was where you belonged, though a part of him wished to see you here. He was curious about you and for now that was all Jacaerys was willing to admit.

He began to grow nervous as you stayed silent. Perhaps he had offended you. “I apologize my lady, I misspoke-” 

“No—you’re right.” You cut him off looking towards him and slowly a smile grew on your face. “Here, I can…I can change everything. If I change the course of time, I can start feminism early! I can name the Roman water system after me and no one would think anything of it!” You leaned over to Jacaerys and grabbed his shoulders with a grin. “Do you know what this means!?” 

He only blinked towards looking towards you trying to process your touch on him and of course your words. “I can basically be Barbie!” You let go of him and covered your mouth. “Why haven't I thought of this before!? I’d be like a legend here! The things I can make! Pray tell I’m not the best at plans but…just maybe,” Yes you wanted to go home, but the chance you could make a big change was less likely there. But here! Here you could be whatever you wanted because you could make the rules here, all you would need is a position of power and influence. Make good deeds with commoners and you’d become one of the most important figures of history while being a woman. Big plus for feminism and while it wouldn’t all change in one life-time, if you can plant the seed here and now, there's no telling the impact it will have in the future and it would be all because of you. 

Jacaerys watched you go deep into thought and while he didn't know what a ‘Barbie’ was or feminism he did know that he no longer felt guilty for bringing you here if it convinced you to stay. 

“You’re a genius, Jacaerys , you know that?” You asked him, smiling. “You just gave this place the best gift you could ever give. It’ll for sure elevate the opinion of the common people for you since you’re in line for the throne. I’m going to introduce so many things! Mendelian genetics? No genetics! Darwinism? No, me-ism, I’m gonna name everything after me!” You smiled. “I’ll probably have to get creative so that not everything sounds the same, like Alexander the Great did with the library of Alexandria and all those other cities. Yes…” 

Jacaerys smiled and stood up offering his hand to you. “It is getting late, perhaps we should return to King’s Landing.” He watched you put on a bit. 

“I don’t wanna go back yet. I like it here, it’s cold and well the air is cleaner.” You looked up towards him as you laid back onto the floor looking at the darkening skies as the stars became visible. “The stars are never this clear where I come from…” You trailed off looking up with a small smile. Jacaerys sighed and laid down beside you looking towards the stars that became more visible by the minute.

“We’ll get in trouble if we don’t return soon.” Jace spoke and while he would rather stay here, he’d rather not have his mom ask him questions about why he was with you. 

You turned to him with a smile on your face and you touched his hair that was becoming overgrown. “You should keep growing out your hair, it looks better longer.” Jacaerys breath hitched as he felt your cold fingertips lightly graze his forehead. He watched you smile once more before looking back up towards the stars. 

He coughed and looked away from you.

Jacaerys doesn’t know how long you both stayed laid out on the grass watching the stars. It was only when he felt his eyes closing that he realized how long had passed as he now registered how dark it was. He jerked his head over to you seeing that your eyes were closed and your breathing was slow. He called your name a couple of times before you finally opened your eyes. 

“Hm?” You looked over as your eyes adjusted to the dark. You began stretching and took a deep breath of the clean air before relaxing once more looking up at the starry night. 

“It’s really late…” Jacaerys whispered. 

“Oh yeah…” You sat up looking around. You took in a shaky deep breath. It was cold. “Welp let's go back.”

“You’re not worried?” He asked as you both walked down the mountain. 

“No, why would I?” You were a little, surly Otto and Alicent would have questions. 

“What others would think about you being out so late with a man. Rumors spread when an unmarried man and woman are together.” He walked next to you seeing you shiver just a little. He was unsure if he should give you his coat, after the comment he just made. 

You shrugged. “Let them speak. What does it matter? You’re a prince and I am someone who they will never hope to reach. If I began to care what others thought of me, then I would not be someone who is ready for the success I am to bring here.” 

Finally you reached Vermax.

“Naejott Vermax” He spoke and you looked over. That’s right, Dyana had told you Targeyens spoke a different language. 

“Is that Valyrian?” You asked as Vermax came closer to you both. 

Jacaerys nodded. “Do you speak it?”

“I think I could recognize some words.” You smiled up at him as you grabbed onto Vermax taking in his warmth.

“Can you?” Jacaerys challenged.

“I’m pretty good at Latin languages, give me your best shot.” You grinned. Surely if you could recognize ‘songs’ you’d do pretty good.

“Rytsas.” Jacaerys spoke and your confidence went down slightly. You had no idea what that meant. 

“I need a sentence.” You tired again, no way you’d get something from just a word.

“Ñuho lento naejot guēse rōvēgrie issa.” Jacaerys spoke once more with a smile. 

“Damn…gotta stop setting myself up for failure.” You mumbled. Thankfully it was dark so he wouldn’t be able to see your shame creeping onto your face. “...I don’t know.” You tried to give a little laugh at the end. 

“The first phase was hello and the second I was telling you that there was a big tree in front of my home.” He laughed starting to take off his coat seeing as you were clinging to Vermax for dear life trying to warm yourself. 

“Never would’ve guessed.” You gave a smile trying to keep yourself from shivering. 

“Here,” Jacaerys offered you his coat and though you wanted to take it, it felt wrong.

“You’d be cold then,” You objected.

“I have more layers on.” He reasoned and nodded as you took the coat, wrapping it around yourself. 

“Can I go in front this time?” You asked as you climbed onto Vermax. 

He gave a hum thinking it over before nodding. “I’ll be steering though.” 

“That’s fine, I just want to be in front.” You nodded as Jacaerys sat behind you and suddenly he began to regret letting you sit in front. He would have to reach over you to keep a hold of Vermax meaning he would have to lean on top of you, but it was too late to say anything. 

He leaned over you and you bent forward consequently pressing your backside against him. He gave a cough trying to cover the groan. He’s never even been this close to a woman, much less in this position. It was going to be a rough ride home. 

…

“Thank you, it was nice.” You whispered out as you both snuck back into Red Keep. You both stood still in a dark corner to avoid being seen by anyone who roamed the halls. Jacaerys nodded fast hoping to leave his room and fast. He had grown painfully hard as the ride kept you snuggly against him and honestly it was starting to hurt. Though a part of his hopes you felt him against you. 

Looking down towards you while you were in his coat and smell of his dragon with your sweet scent tangled with each other, his mind was quickly becoming clouded with lust. Perhaps that is why he spoke in such a bold manner. “You told me you’d give me anything, no? As for our deal?” He whispered out looking around. 

He watched you smile. “You haven’t seen my surprise yet.” 

“I thought you said I won?” He breathed heavily clenching his fists trying to keep himself in check. 

“You still haven’t seen it, tell you what though, tomorrow night, come to my chambers and I’ll show you. I’ll make it worth your time.” You smiled and walked unknowing you left him with a very big problem to solve when he got to his own chambers. 

Note: This was a lot longer than I thought it would be. Also pls keep asking me things I quite enjoy responding to them!

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[trulybetty]

honey, it's cold outside

pairing: jackson!joel x reader word count: 2,243 warnings: just domesticity, no descriptions of reader, use of a nickname, no y/n, soft & cozy post tlou season one joel estimated reading time: 11 minutes summary: christmas eve in jackson and joel is looking to be anywhere but alone, not that he would tell you that - but you know joel. ao3: linked

x. honey masterlist

honey, it's cold outside.

The snow had started to come down sometime in the afternoon. Soft and light at first, barely sticking to the ground, too warm for it to settle. However, by the time the sun had dipped below the horizon, the darkness of the evening closing in, down with it came the temperature, dropping considerably. That was when it had started to come down thick and heavy. It now blanketed Jackson in a still, quiet kind of peace. The kind that made the world feel a little smaller, like it was just you, the house, the storm beyond the frosty windows and that the world, maybe, hadn’t fallen apart.

Joel had come over earlier that afternoon, mumbling something about fixing the creaky hinge on your front door. You knew better though. Lately he’d been even more restless than usual since Ellie had moved into the converted garage at the back of their house—claiming she needed her own space from ‘the old man’. Despite the fact that being still so close it was almost debatable if it truly was independence. Especially considering she raided the fridge still on a daily basis. She was acclimating to life in Jackson at such a fast pace. He missed her, but he’d never say it outright, not unless you pressed. Even then, if so, it would be a grumbled confession, his voice low, rough as gravel. 

By the time Ellie and Dina had left for the Christmas Eve gathering at the main hall, stopping by briefly to see if either of you wanted anything, Joel was still at your home. Shoulders stiff under the weight of a now damp jacket, boots tracking melting snow across your entranceway. You didn’t mind. He’d made himself useful, fixing the creaky hinge on your front door, tightening the screws on the loose leg of your kitchen table, fixing the shelf underneath the bathroom mirror and finally putting the stubborn kitchen drawer back on its track. But now he seemed to linger, standing awkwardly in the living room like he wasn’t sure whether to stay and find something else to fix or leave.

“Joel,” you called, soft but insistent, from the couch where a fire Joel had insisted on starting earlier, crackled low in the hearth, “Sit down. You’re making the place look untidy.”

His face flushed as he hesitated, always cautious, always trying to gauge whether he was overstepping. The once urge to account for threats in a life before Jackson, replaced by a lingering uncertainty in a world that had begun to feel like home again. Eventually, he relented, shrugging off his coat and hanging it by the door, his boots followed next—slipped off and placed near the fire to dry. Before he could choose the old worn leather armchair across from you, you tapped the space on the couch beside you. The cushions dipped under his weight, drawing you closer to him than you’d planned, not that you minded. His warmth radiated, a welcome contrast to the cold pressing against the windows trying to find its way in.

For a while, you both sat in companionable silence, watching the flames flicker and dance, listening to the occasional groan of the wind against the house. You could see through him like an open book, you didn’t miss the way his hands flexed now and then, restless even in the stillness.

“You could’ve gone to the main hall with Ellie,” you said, breaking the quiet. 

Joel shook his head, his lips twitching like he was attempting to fight a smile, “Crowds ain’t my thing.”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, a wry smile on your lips that you made no attempt to hide, “Could’ve fooled me. You’re the most popular guy in Jackson.” 

That earned a soft huff of laughter, his shoulders relaxing just a little. “Not sure that’s somethin’ to be proud of.”

“You don’t fool me either, you know,” your voice was gentle, more teasing than serious. “I know you don’t want to be alone tonight.” 

He didn’t answer, at least not right away, but you knew Joel well enough to let the silence stretch out before you. Eventually, he sighed, long and slow, and dropped his head against the back of the couch.

“Guess not,” he murmured, his voice quieter than usual.

You reached out, resting your hand over his, his fingers twitched under yours but didn’t pull away. 

“Stay,” you said. It wasn’t a question.

With his head still resting on the back of the couch he turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. So very much Joel. His hand, still underneath yours, flexed as his calloused fingers turned and intertwined with yours, before giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

The dishes clinked softly as you carried them into the kitchen, balancing a stack of plates, cutlery and glasses while Joel trailed behind, muttering something under his breath about how you didn’t have to fuss. He had said he didn’t want dinner—he’d come by to fix the hinge, nothing more, already overstaying his welcome at your insistence—but you’d caught the way his eyes had lingered on the roast chicken and vegetables as you’d prepared what you’d said was your own plate, knowing exactly how this conversation was going to go. And when you had insisted, placing the plate down at the table, he’d sat down and eaten without protest. 

Then he’d had seconds.

“You know, for someone who wasn’t hungry, you sure made a dent in that chicken,” you called over your shoulder, setting the plates in the sink. 

Joel grunted, the kind of sound that wasn’t quite an agreement but wasn’t denial either, “Didn’t want it to go to waste.”

You glanced at him, standing there in the doorway, arms folded across his chest as if he were trying to take up less space. His face betrayed him though—a flicker of something softer in his eyes, like maybe he wasn’t used to being fed because someone simply wanted to.

“I’ll keep that in mind next time,” you said, rinsing the plates under warm water. “Not hungry actually means two servings.”

His lips twitched, the barest hint of a smirk breaking through his normally guarded expression, as he pushed himself off of the doorframe and headed over to the sink where you stood. Gently, he nudged you away with his hip as he took the dish from your hand and continued washing them. “You’re funny,” he said with a pointed look telling you to sit down when you attempted to dry the plates.

You rolled your eyes as you took a seat at the now steady kitchen table, “Just calling it as I see it.”

The conversation between the two of you was light, easy in a way that felt rare. Joel had a way of being in the room without really letting himself be in it, like he always had one foot out of the door. But tonight, something was different. Maybe it was the snowstorm hemming him in or the warmth of the fire lulling him into a sense of ease, he certainly didn’t look like he was in a hurry to leave.

You watched as he finished with the dishes, drying his hands on a towel before he put everything away, needing no direction from you—now familiar with where everything was kept.

“You want to sit back by the fire for a bit?” you asked, “or are you still pretending you’re here for that hinge?”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze drifting to the window where the snow continued to fall, thick and relentless. Finally, he nodded, the motion small but enough.

Joel had stayed, as you knew he would, his body sinking deeper into the couch with every passing hour. His arm slowly found your shoulder, pulling you close until you were nestled against him, the warmth of his body a comfort alongside the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your ear. You talked about nothing and everything—the state of the roads, how quiet Jackson felt with most people at the Christmas Eve gathering, and Ellie’s recent streak of stubborn independence. Joel had smiled at that, a wry, tired kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“She’s doin’ alright,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Better than I was at her age,” he paused, “all things considered.”

You didn’t press him. Joel didn’t like to linger on the past, even if it was woven into every line on his face, every guarded word. You cherished any piece of it he shared, keeping space for it and letting the silence fill the gaps in between. You offered him what you could in return: a soft place to land, a steady presence so he didn’t have to put as much effort into maintaining the solid defences he had built up.

When you had suggested heading to bed soon, he had hesitated, his hand holding the arm of the couch like it was an anchor, “I should probably head back—”

“To an empty house?” You tilted your head, your voice gentle but firm, “Did you say Ellie wanted to spend the night at Dina’s place? Plus there’s the small issue of the blizzard outside. You’re not going anywhere tonight.”

He sighed, long and slow, but didn’t argue. There was something in his eyes—a weariness you’d only seen on him when he thought no one was looking. It wasn’t just the snow keeping him here, he could have made the short walk home easily, and you both knew it.

The fire had burned to embers, casting the room in flickering shadows. The snowfall outside had softened, but the cold still crept through the walls with the dying heat unable to stave it off. Upstairs, your bed waited, the sheets warm and heavy.

Joel followed you without question, quiet as ever, but you caught the softness in his gaze as he took your outstretched hand. He seemed lighter, like the weight he carried every day had been set down, if only for a little while.

The bedroom was dimly lit, the curtains drawn against the storm outside, but thin enough that the glow from the strings of lights that adorned Jackson could still be seen. You returned from the bathroom, face clean and clothes changed, to find Joel stood by the edge of the bed. You weren’t sure if he was waiting for you or if he was testing if the familiar fragile thread of tension had truly been left behind. 

You climbed under the blankets first, patting the spot beside you with a quiet smile.

“C’mon, Miller. Bed’s not gonna bite, can’t promise about me though.”

He snorted softly at that, unbuttoning the plaid shirt he wore, leaving him in a soft tee and worn jeans. He climbed into the bed, it wasn’t the first time, but it still felt new, tender. Joel shifted hesitantly, his body stiff as he lay on his side, his back to you. It wasn't a matter of ignoring you, but rather a well-ingrained means of survival—facing the exit and keeping his good ear alert for any potential danger. You didn’t need an invitation. Sliding closer, you wrapped an arm around his waist, your forehead pressing lightly between his shoulder blades. He stilled for a moment, then let out a breath that sounded almost like relief, his hand moving tentatively to rest over yours where it lay against his stomach. 

“Alright?” you murmured, your voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m alright.”

The moment stretched, the sound of the wind outside fading into the background as your breathing fell into rhythm with his. His body feeling solid against yours, bringing warmth that chased the lingering chill away.

After a beat, you broke the silence, “Don’t think about slipping out—everything will still be there tomorrow if you stay the night. Sleep, if just for tonight.”

“You always this bossy?” he asked after a while, as if this was a new revelation, his voice a quiet rumble.

“Only when you’re being stubborn,” you shot back, your tone light. “Which is… most of the time.”

He huffed out a laugh, the sound low and genuine. “Fair enough.”

You smiled against his back, the curve of your lips just brushing the bare skin above the collar of his shirt. This wasn’t perfect—nothing with Joel ever was—but it felt right in a way you couldn’t quite explain, nor felt the need to solve. Holding him like that, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, it was easy to forget it all. Just focus on the quiet, the warmth of your bed, that there was only you and Joel. And for that night? That was enough.

The rhythm of Joe’s breathing slowed and evened out, his body melting against yours as if he’d been waiting for this—someone, you, to hold him steady. To remind him it was okay to let go, even for a little while, so you held him a little tighter, your legs tangling under the blankets. 

The smokey scent of the put-out fire from downstairs lingered, and the house creaked again as the wind pushed against it, only making the space between you and Joel feel cozier. You closed your eyes and listened to Joel’s faint snores, the ones that he would swear he didn’t make, as you fell into sleep—there in the quiet glow of the night, everything felt whole.

[sturniqlo]

First Heartbreak - Brother!Triplets

let's try something new... lmk if you enjoy this concept!

summary: y/n, the triplets little sister, experiences her very first break up.

cw: cursing, crying, angst, fluff

an: very short so it's a blurb

masterlist

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The triplets had just been picked up from the airport by their mom. They were visiting family for the upcoming holidays and they just missed their family so much. Unfortunately, when they arrived their little sister, Y/n, wasn't there to greet them as they arrived home. "Where's Y/n?" Chris asked his mom as they stepped foot into the home. Usually, when the boys would come home, Y/n would always be the first person they saw as they walked in.

"Oh, she's out right now. She and a friend went bowling, she'll be home soon though." She checks her watch to look at the time. Y/n's curfew was at 10:30pm. It was almost 10pm. "Cant believe he wasn't here to greet us." Matt says. "She's seventeen, she's not always going to be there when you want her to. She's finally going out." Nick says.

"I'm going to go unpack." Chris says, leaving off to his room. He rolls his suitcase down the hall and sees Y/n left her room light on and her door open. A habit of hers. He goes to turn off the light and spots many new things in her room. There's about five stuffed animals on her bed, one with a bear holding a 'happy valentine's day' heart, a bunny, a big white bear, a snoopy holding yet again another heart, and another bear from what seems to be build a bear. He also sees a bouquet of flowers in her nightstand that's are practically shriveled up. And there are many new pictures above her bed.

Respectfully, he just shuts the light off and closes the door because he knows how much she hates when the boys go snooping in her room. "What do you think you're doing?" A thirteen year old Y/n catches sixteen year old Chris rummaging through her closet. "I'm looking for a hoodie which I know you took." He says, flipping through her hangers. "Get out or I'm telling mom and dad you stole my allowance money." Chris turns his head towards her. "What? I just want my hoodie." Y/n goes to walk out the door. "Mom! Da-" Chris cuts her off. "Okay, I'm getting out! Damn, just give me my sweater, please."

When the boys were done unpacking their stuff, it was five past 10:30 and Y/n wasn't back. "Mom, it's past her curfew." Nick places his phone down. "She called me and told me she was running late." She says, putting the last dish away. "I'm going off to bed. If she gets here past eleven tell her I said she's grounded." All three of the boys nod at their mom. "Goodnight!"

"Do you guys think she's really bowling?" Matt says from the couch. "I'm pretty sure she is, I don't think she's the type to lie to mom and dad about where she's going." Nick says. "True." Matt and Chris say. Curiously, Nick peeps out the window seeing if there's any sign of Y/n. "Here comes a car. Oh, she is not happy. And she slammed the car door." He backs away from the window once he sees someone else come out the car. "Leave!" They all hear her shout from outside. "Should we go outsi-" Chris is cutoff by the front door opening. "Y/n!" They all say. "Fuck off!" She says with tears streaming down her face, and runs up to her room. "Oh?" Matt says.

"I'll go." Nick says, knowing Y/n tells Nick more things than Matt and Chris. Going upstairs, he sees that her door is closed. He knocks and tries to open the door but it's locked. "Y/n?" He hears her rustling a bag and crying. "Go away!" She sobs. "Hey, open the door, yeah." He softly says. After a few minutes of standing in front of her door, he hears her unlock her door. "Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong." Nick says when he sees her cheeks are stained with mascara and her eye are red. "I don't want to talk about it right now." She whispers and walks to her bed. "That's okay, take your time." He sits next to her and brings her to his chest, all she can do if cry harder due to her brothers affection towards her.

"It's okay." He rubs her hair. Nick takes a glance at her room and sees that near her bed is a trash bag full of stuffed animals, a bouquet of dead flowers, and ripped up pictures. However, there's one framed one that didn't make it into the bag and ended up on the floor. He squints and sees that it's a picture of his sister kissing someone. Did she have a boyfriend? Her cries soon turn into sniffles and she lifts her head off from his chest. "I got mascara on your shirt." She tries to wipe it off. "It's okay, I'm sure it'll come off." He slightly chuckles. "Do you want to tell me what happened tonight? And why there's a trash bag full of stuff?" He asks in the most softest tone he could.

"Can I shower really quickly? I need some time alone." Nick respects her wishes. "Alright, I'll be downstairs with Matt and Chris, come down whenever you're ready or text us and we'll come up okay?" She nods. Nick gets up and head back downstairs where his brothers are worriedly talking about Y/n. "Nick what happened? I've never seen her like that." Chris asks. "I think she broke up with someone or something like that. She has a bag full of stuffed animals, flowers, and pictures." He says, taking a seat between both of them. "She was dating someone?" Matt asks confusingly. "I guess so, the picture of her kissing someone explains a lot. But she wanted to shower and she's let us know when she's ready to talk."

Quietly, they wait in the living room until they get a sign from Y/n. Deep in their thoughts, all they can think of is the fact that she didn't tell them she was in a relationship, not even their parents mentioned anything. All of a sudden, their phones ding with a message from Y/n in their shared group chat.

y/n

you guys can come up now

They all look at each other and head upstairs. "Hey, kid." Chris says when he enters the room, everything that he had seen when he turned her light off a couple of hours ago was gone. "Hi." She places her brush on her nightstand. "You okay?" Matt sits next to her. Nick takes the end of the bed and Chris sits on the floor in front of them. He places his hand on the floor behind him and turns around and sees the picture Nick was talking about. He pushes it away, not wanting to look at it knowing it was his little sister. "I guess?" She looks at her nails, picking at them. "Did- did you break up with someone? Or the other way around?" Nick asks. "Yeah, my boyfriend cheated on me." Her voice cracks and she breaks down again. "C'mere, kid." Matt opens his arms up and hugs her.

The boys can't help but get angry at the asshole they've never met, angry at him for doing such a thing to his sister. "He- he got a text and I saw it was from another girl. And- and I checked their messages and it was obvious he was cheating. Im sorry I never told you guys." She says into Matt's shoulder. Chris gets up and rubs her shoulder. "It's okay, I'm sure you had your reasons as to why you didn't tell us." He says. And she did, she wanted to make sure that her boyfriend, now ex, wasn't going to do anything stupid, but unfortunately he did. Before any of this, she was planning on introducing him to her brothers during the time they were here. Y/n sits with her back on her headboard and looks at all three of them.

"Sorry I yelled at you guys when I walked in." She giggles, wiping her tears. "It's fine." The three of them say. "How long were you two together for?" Chris asks. "Six months." Nicks eyes widen. "Do you want some McDonalds to cheer you up?" Matt says to her. "Please?" She smiles. "Let's go." Matt motions his head towards the room door. "Chris, can you take the bag down to the trash outside?" She says as Nick and Matt walk out the room. "Sure, this too right?" He picks up the frame. "Yes, wait, take the picture out I want to keep the frame. It was twenty bucks." Chris laughs as he hands the empty frame to her.

"Cant believe you were in a relationship before me, Matt and Nick." He laughs. "Me neither." They head down to the car where Matt and Nick are. "Wait, isn't it way past your curfew?" Matt looks back from the driver seat. "My 10:30 curfew is when I'm out with friends. Mom says I can get home whenever I want when I'm with any of you." The boys hum.

"Welcome home, by the way." Y/n says.

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[hello-there]

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[narcissisticmf]

draw me | benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

description: you ask benedict to draw you, wearing almost nothing.

trigger warnings: nudity, sexual content, seductive behavior, oral sex, etc. please do not proceed in reading if you are under the age of 18.

word count: 1.8k

You walked through the halls with servants of the Bridgerton family, standing outside the opened door to Benedict's study, where he was working behind a canvas.

"You have a caller, Mr. Bridgerton," Stated the servant, bowing his head. You walked into the room, in a silk dress, a silver chain was dangling beautifully around your neck. You stared at Benedict with a soft expression, eyes gentle and calm.

"Leave us," Benedict offered a generous grin to his servants as they left the room, latching the door shut behind them. You continued gazing at him, never turning away, not even once.

"Am I too early? I didn't realize you were already working on something else," You explained as he stared at you with the utmost loving gaze.

"No, not at all, please, have a seat," He gestured to the sofa beside you. "Can I get you a drink?" Benedict asked politely after you planted your bottom against the soft cushions.

"I'm quite well for now, thank you," You admitted.

"Shall we get started then?" He smiled. You nodded softly. "I'd like you to lay down, on your back," He instructed as you did as told, you followed every word that he spoke. Your stomach bubbled with ease and excitement.

Benedict stared at you for a little while, his fingers gripping his chin as his eyes squinted, scanning your body's position. He walked over to you with a gentle demeanor.

"Permission to touch you?" He asked as he looked at you, his gaze never broke from you.

You looked up to him and nodded softly, "Yes."

Benedict gently grasped your wrist and moved your arm to lay against the top of your head. He stepped back and examined your position, smiling.

"Benedict?" You called softly after he had turned around to head back to his canvas, that was propped up on an easel. He turned around with asked 'what' with his eyes, pupils blown out.

"Might I make a small suggestion?" You asked and he nodded. "Wouldn't the image be more raw if my form wasn't so.. cladded?"

Benedict did his best to fight the growing smile. He agreed to your suggestion, as long as you were alright and comfortable. He made sure that you were one hundred percent on board with it.

After confirming your wishes, you stood up from the sofa and lifted the dress from the bottom, over your head, tossing the silk material across the room, beside the windows. You removed all your undergarments, and soon became completely vulnerable. Your breasts laid naturally against your ribcage. Benedict admired you, his eyes traveling up and down your exposed body.

You laid back against the sofa and fixed yourself to be in the form which Benedict had you in moments ago. All that was against your skin was a silver chain. Your hair was down and curled, the way your servants did it the morning of.

Benedict did his best to fight the smile that was against his lips. You smiled softly, but soon it ceased, wanting to keep a serious expression for the final product of the piece.

"Does an artist often blush when drawing one of their subjects?" You grinned mischievously as Benedict let out a small giggle.

"Shh," He hushed you and continued painting away. He managed to get every curve, every beautiful detail amongst your body, matching your skintone perfectly. He even got the subtle glassiness in your eyes and the way the sunlight reflected against your body and about the room.

You were unsure if it was the temperature of the room or the fact that you were at your most vulnerable in front of a man, but your nipples hardened and Benedict took notice of this. He smirked, a lopsided one and stared at you for a moment, ceasing his motions of the paintbrush.

"Are you cold?" He questioned.

"Uhm, no, why?" You asked.

"'Tis my duty as the artist to make sure that my subject is comfortable and satisfied in all ways possible," He replied with a grin.

You smiled softly as you watched him continue to illustrate. He was so focused, looking to you and back at the canvas every few seconds.

.

Finishing the image, Benedict smiled and turned his easel around so that you could see it. Your lips curved into a grin as you saw how beautiful the painting was.

"It's beautiful, Benedict," You replied, still lying there, unclothed.

"Thank you, Miss. Y/N," He replied with a smug grin as he stared at you, admiring your body. "Will you.. uhm.. be getting back into your dress now?"

You stared at him for a moment, thinking. "If you wish it," You whispered.

"I certainly do not, but do you?" Benedict asked.

"No," You replied quickly. He smiled, his most famous lopsided grin. You slowly arose from the sofa and noticed how Benedict's eyes were glued to you. You walked towards him and noticed he was backing into the bookshelf behind him, pressing his hands against it, for leverage.

"Permission to touch you, Miss. Y/L/N?" He breathed out, almost desperate.

You leaned forward to whisper into his ear, "Yes."

Benedict hastily wrapped his arms lowly around your waist and pressed his lips to yours. You cupped his face and molded your lips with his perfectly. He tasted of brandy and mint. His hands moved down your bare back and towards your bum, gripping your cheeks softly. You released a whimper against his mouth as you pulled back, resting your chin to his shoulder. Your lips parted, to allow soft whines and moans to escape. Benedict moved his lips down your neck and across your shoulder, burying his face into your skin.

He slowly stepped forward, guiding you to the sofa you'd be lying on while Benedict was painting. You sat against it while he begun to remove his coat, tossing it beside your silk dress. You stared at him, eyeing his body up and down. He smirked and removed his suspenders, then his blouse overhead, tossing it to the side. He unzipped the side of his pants and kicked them off effortlessly. Soon, he was left is absolutely nothing.

The sun was setting outside, creating a beautiful reflection of light against Benedict's skin. You smiled as he walked towards the couch, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You kissed him back and gripped his biceps, pushing him to sit beside you. You wasted no time and straddled his waist, draping your arms around his neck, molding your lips perfectly against his.

You'd forgotten about everything; the servants just outside the door, the painting, the fact that your actions were so scandalous that both your life and Benedict's could be ruined if anyone found out. You were focused on him and only him, it was tranquil and comfortable. You felt safer than you had in a long time.

Benedict's hands were holding your sides, slowly dragging his fingers to your back, tracing your skin lightly. You moved your hips with his softly, making him groan quietly into your mouth.

Without taking his lips from yours, he pushed your to lay against your back, so that he was on top of you. You pressed your fingers against his face, engrossed in the taste of him.

Benedict pulled back to admire your body a little long. He noticed how hardened your nipples had become. He lowered his head, without breaking eye contact and placed his lips around your left breast, sucking on your nipple. You whimpered, leaning your head back as the arousal begun to stick to your inner thighs. His eyes were on you the entire time. He moved from your left to your right, repeating the same actions.

You leaned your head back against the cushions, releasing moans that were soon suppressed by Benedict's palm. You closed your eyes and used on hand to push through his hair, gripping it softly.

He dragged his wet lips down your stomach, around your navel and towards your heat. You released a shaky breath as his breath fanned against you. You slowly spread your legs to make it easier access for him. He slipped one finger into your mouth, making you blink in surprise.

"Suck on it. We don't want any unwanted ears hearing us, do we?" Benedict stated as he looked up to you, only raising his eyes. You nodded and begun to suck on his finger, hoping it would be enough to keep you quiet.

He pressed his mouth against your private, using his tongue to toy with your folds. It took a lot for you to keep quiet, but luckily his finger was doing the trick. You closed your eyes as let the feeling consume you. You wrapped your legs around Benedict's shoulders as he moved his lips and tongue against your strings.

Despite his finger keeping you silenced, there was still a beautiful melody within your whines that escaped into the atmosphere.

After a little while, Benedict arose and removed his finger from your mouth, using it to softly graze across your folds. You bit your tongue, having no desire for anyone to hear, but there was adrenaline in that, in knowing you could be caught or heard.

Benedict was on top of you, yet again and held your side with one hand, pressing his lips against yours. You hummed at the taste of your own heat, finding it sweet yet savory at the same time.

You felt Benedict slip effortlessly inside of you. You gasped into his mouth, feeling so many ecstasies all at once. He moved his hips to and fro, feeling how loose you'd been. The comfort in him and his actions was unlike anything you'd ever felt before or experienced.

"Benedict.." You moaned into his mouth as he continued his motions. He was a moaning mess as well, perhaps that was why he was kissing you the whole time.

"You feel absolutely wonderful, Y/N," Benedict whispered through a broken moan.

You had locked eyes with him, as the two of you became close to undoing. You felt your stomach unravel all the knots, reaching your climax. Benedict swiftly pulled out of you, releasing his sticky load against your stomach.

You were both out of breath as he smiled down at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. He reached onto the ground to grab a cloth, gently wiping his essence off of you. He was sure to be careful, knowing that you must've been sensitive.

"That was perfect," You whispered, taking notice that the sun was already set and the moon was the only think illuminating the darkness of night.

Benedict smiled, chuckling lightly as he pressed a warm kiss to the corner of your mouth, "Perhaps, we should do this again sometime."

Smiling, you nodded.

.

a/n: hi, cuties!! so i just started watching bridgerton and i absolutely LOVE benedict! he's the sweetest character that i think i've ever seen and couldn't wait to write something for him! i'm sorry i haven't been posting much, work has been really crazy as well as my mental health. i hope you're all doing good! thank you so much for reading! — angelina. <33

[glader13]

Me and the Devil pt.2

True form/Heian period Sukuna x Heian period Reader

Part 1

A/N: 18 and up

You woke up alone the next morning, wondering where Sukuna went. You wrapped yourself in one of Sukuna’s robes, walking out of your shared room and into the rest of the estate. You first wandered into the dining hall, seeing no one there but the other concubines. None of them dared to look at you unless you engaged with them first. Their behavior was not caused entirely by fear of Sukuna but by you. Your reputation for killing your village was only reinforced when a concubine stepped out of her place, bullying and harassing you like those from your past. You burned her, creating ashes from her flesh, a vibrant warning. You guess your village and family were right: there is a darkness in you.

But he loves it. He loves how you tripped over the heavenly precipice, becoming his. Perfectly fallen.

“Have you seen Lord Sukuna?” You asked one of the concubines. She quickly shook her head, mumbling no.

The sun gently shined through the windows and the vine-covered archways as you went looking for him, asking other servants for his whereabouts which were still unknown. You decided to take your search outside, testing your luck in the garden. As you walked through the garden, underneath the cherry blossom trees, you thought of the night before. You still felt Sukuna’s touch lingering on your skin, his promise to protect you. You scarcely smiled, feeling confident in knowing what you felt towards him, but doubting if he felt the same way. Before, you would go everywhere with him, and attend his meetings with the different leaders collecting their tribute. But now, ever since he’s become a target, he kept you here. Out of public, out of sight. He always brings you back gifts to still provide you with a gateway to the outside world. But you yearn for the freedom you once had, you yearn to be by his side.

You know he’s protecting you, but who will protect him? A foolish thought, but it keeps you up. The thought invades your mind as you spend time in his arms. Rounding a corner in the garden, you heard his voice, strong against Uruame’s concerned one.

The sorcerers are turning them against you. This is the fifth village who have given in to their influence,” Uruame folded the letter, “I fear an uprising, Lord Sukuna.”

“Let them try,” you could hear Sukuna’s smirk, “it’ll be foolish anyway.”

“But the land, you rule it all. What if they-”

“It’s just dirt, I can take it back whenever I please,” he interrupted them.

“What if they get here? What if they harm her?” Uruame’s voice was a whisper.

That’s when you felt something more terrifying, more powerful than fear. It was stomach-churning, causing you to sweat. You were paralyzed, so weak that you fell to your knees, scarcely breathing. Your vision was darkening, the ground beneath you blurred and moving, as if it would give way underneath you. You focused on the ground, clutching the grass for some stability as you were feeling that you were in the presence of the devil himself. Or something much worse.

“Let them try. They’re dead the moment that idea crosses their mind,” he said.

You shakily got up, seeing Sukuna standing by himself as Uruame went off to do a task. You quietly walked behind him, kissing the markings that decorate his back and shoulders as you wrapped your arms around him. He relaxed underneath your touch, asking why you weren’t in bed, to which you explained.

“I’ll be leaving on business to a nearby village,” he said taking your hands, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, so you’ll be alone for a little bit longer.”

“Take me with you,” you kissed his shoulder again, “I miss being by your side.”

“It was … different then,” he sighed, “it’s much better if you stay here.”

“I can handle my own,” you walked in front of him, placing a finger on his lips, “I’ll bring my weapon, I’ll be safe. Especially with the King of Curses around.”

_

“Lord Sukuna,” you stood at the entrance of his room, “Are you prepared to leave?”

He looked over, standing up from where he was sitting as he gave you a curt nod. You didn’t move, not knowing where you stood in his eyes, the words that you heard a couple of moments ago were still burning, leaving a mess of questions in your mind. Without looking at you, he motioned you over with a hand. You fixed your kimono and the flowers in your hair and adjusted your katana before walking in front of him. You felt heat envelop your face as you couldn’t meet his eyes, though you could feel them on you. His gaze was piercing, feeling like lightning.

The warmth from the closeness of his body told you that he was towering over you. You bit your lip, unable to meet his gaze, feeling your heartbeat throughout your body. Sukuna didn’t say a word, confused by your sudden change of character, you never shied away from meeting his gaze. He smiled slightly, feeling comfortable with making you look at him. He held your face from your chin, your body shivering when you finally met his crimson eyes.

“Since when have you been afraid to look at me?” He teased you, and you looked away again, unable to talk, “So unlike you,” he whispered in your ear and you shivered again.

Despite enjoying this, he did wish that you would meet his gaze, that he would hear your voice. Just as you couldn’t look at him, he couldn’t tell you why he wants you, why he keeps feeling the softness of your lips on his from those nights ago. He didn’t know why he couldn’t get it out of his mind, why you have taken residence in his head. He looked you over, still in awe of how power and beauty can balance in you.

“It fits you well,” he told you, his fingers rubbing the silk fabric.

He still stood in front of you, and you finally found the courage to look at him. His arms were folded as he looked at you as if you were a puzzle, his eyes drinking your form, no doubt noticing how well the kimono suits your body. You took a breath before speaking, “Is everything okay? Did I do something to upset you?”

“No,” he said, “And yes, I am prepared to leave.”

The ride was quiet, Sukuna was stuck in his papers, occasionally mumbling something about numbers. He rarely looked at you, causing another sting. He usually would have said something, at least acknowledged you, but now he’s treating you like the other concubines that he keeps. He has to be angry, you bit the inside of your cheek, you were too pushy with him allowing you to go. You felt embarrassed to look at him, feeling that you crossed a line, so you stared at the rolling landscape. He’s always leaving you guessing, he’s a riddle that you’ll never be able to solve. But when you’re with him, you feel like his queen. Yes, he opens up his bed and body to you, but you want a piece of his mind. You want his heart. A foolish hope, you are aware, but you can never fully bring yourself to extinguish it. You love him, and there’s nothing that you can do.

“I believe that you are mad at me,” you announced, causing him to look at you, “Due to my intrusion, I shall sit here until you’re done.”

Sukuna’s crimson eyes shined with amusement as he said, “I’m not mad at you.”

“But you haven’t said one word to me,” you folded your arms, “Am I not worth your time? Is my usefulness over for you?”

Sukuna’s laugh bellowed in the space, “Quite a needy thing you are.” You felt your heart jump at his words.

“Your usefulness has never run out, it never will,” he said, “But you do cause me problems. I seem to not be myself when you’re around. And when you’re not around, it’s emptiness. What did you do to me?”

You smirked, understanding his dilemma. You leaned forward, your voice sickeningly soft and innocent, “Do I frustrate the King of Curses?”

He got closer to you, once again holding your face and instead of looking away, your smirk only grew. Sukuna felt himself slightly smile, something in him shifting, though he didn’t what it was. But he knew that he wanted to keep the look on your face, your lidded eyes brimming with desire, all to himself. He was getting lost in your eyes, going past the point of return. It was driving him mad, for his thoughts to be consumed by a human.

“Did you put a hex on me?” His voice rumbled through your body, as you mumbled maybe.

He leaned even closer, his lips inches away from yours. You held your breath, hoping that he would close the distance, gracing you with a kiss, but he didn’t. He traced over your lips with his thumb as his mind could only form one coherent thought, which was that he wanted to taste you. It was the only reason why he would ever get on his knees for a human, to put himself below. He kissed the inside of your thighs, your soft skin warm against his mouth as he stared up at you. Your eyes were closed, and your lips were curled in a soft smile, Sukuna strangely felt in awe again, as if discovering another reason why he so easily got on his knees. But, you were only smiling, and he needed to hear your voice. You gasped feeling Sukuna’s tongue languidly lick from the top of your pussy to the bottom.

You breathed heavily, feeling his tongue in between your folds, as his fingers were digging into your soft skin. He didn’t pick up the pace, slowly maneuvering his tongue around, ignoring your aching clit. The only time that it would get attention was when his nose would occasionally bump into it, causing you to moan. You were a heavenly sight to Sukuna, with closed eyes and beautiful noises coming from your lips. He loved how you were falling apart by his tongue, your hips desperately grinding against his mouth, the word please and his name the only thing you could say. He smiled against your cunt, knowing what you want, but still not giving it to you. He kissed your cunt, the filthy sounds echoing in the small space. You nearly screamed, feeling Sukuna’s fingers spread open your fucked out cunt, before his lips went back to abusing it.

You arched your back, your fingers getting lost in his pink hair. It was messy, as he sloppily made love to your cunt. The seat below you had a stain, and each time Sukuna would stop and smile at you, a trail of saliva would be visible. He eventually gave you what you wanted, and you could have sworn that you were going to pass out. Ecstasy and euphoria flooded your senses as he sucked on your clit, nipping and pulling on the sensitive area. Shamelessly, you guided his head, making sure that his mouth stayed where you wanted it to be, your thighs keeping him in place. Sukuna would have normally lashed out and stopped altogether if a concubine had touched him without permission, but with you, he didn’t mind. He wanted to please you.

“Cum on my tongue,” he breathed against you, causing you to squirm and moan, “I want to taste you.”

So you did, as he murmured good. He didn’t give you time to recover, long strokes of his tongue left you shivering as he cleaned you up. His lips found yours, locking you in as his tongue deepened the kiss, “Look at how good you taste.” His words caused you to moan again.

He would have done more, but the announcement of their arrival caused him to stop. The two of you walked to the chief’s estate, everyone in the village moving out of the way when the two of you walked past. This troubled Sukuna as he thought back to Uruame’s words of caution, an uprising is sure to happen. Usually, they would have bowed, cowering from his sight, but now they look him in the eyes as he walks by. They are bold. The chief was late, causing Sukuna to grow even angrier at his insolence.

The two of you sat in the grand room in silence, as servants stood ready to refill your cups once you needed them too. You stared out into the windows, seeing the beautiful village nestled in a valley from a vantage point, it was quite large and decently populated. A prime spot for Sukuna to rule, a prime spot for sorcerers to gamble and take control over. Once the chief arrived, you could tell the type of man he was, reminding you instantly of everyone in your old village, in your family. He was a greedy man, exuding more power than he ever would have. You weren’t even there in his eyes, being referred to as one of Sukuna’s favorite concubines.

“Don’t kill him,” you said seeing Sukuna tense, “At least not over that,” you then directed your attention to the village chief, “Your tribute payments, have stopped, why is that?”

He scoffed at you, “That’s not a woman’s place.”

Sukuna leaned forward, his large frame almost blocking the chief entirely from your point of view, “She’s equal to me, so it is her place as much as it is my place.”

“They promised me protection,” he was smug, “They promised that you are going to get sealed,” he pointed at Sukuna, “So why should I fear an extinct curse?”

“Sorcerers? That’s impossible,” you jumped in, “They don’t have anything to seal him away, it’ll be suicide.”

You looked at Sukuna, seeing if he wanted to join in, but his arms were crossed, his eyes were focusing on nothing, yet you could see that his mind was running. Running with possibilities of him being sealed, his power stripped. With the possibility of losing you in the process. You focused back on the man, “He has burned villages, and killed anyone who had tried to stop him, what makes you think that they can win? You wouldn’t be standing on your feet if it wasn’t for him. They lie and cheat, they’ll leave you when they can’t handle their responsibilities and the consequences. They can never be trusted.”

You thought of your time as a sorcerer, sold away by your family because of the darkness in you. You thought that you would be comforted by fellow sorcerers, people just like you, but you were wrong. Beaten by those who deemed themselves to be protectors. Beaten by people who were like you. No one was there, no one cared about your cries for help. The scars on your body prove it, the scar across your chest, a testament to your survival, of your anger. You can never trust a self-proclaimed savior.

“You were dead when they arrived, and you were dead welcoming them in,” you said, “You will never be safe with them.”

He laughed and it caused your blood to boil. Heat enveloped your face as you stood up, which caused Sukuna to finally snap out of his daze. Red flames sprouted from your hand, causing the chief’s face to drop. Sukuna smiled at you, more than ready to let you take control of the negotiations.

“Once we bring you the heads of your protectors, the tribute that you owe to Lord Sukuna will be quadrupled,” you frowned, “quite merciful for your insolence.”

You walked out before momentarily being followed by Sukuna who told you that a bath was being prepared before you departed. You nodded, falling slightly behind as you thought back to inside, how he fell quiet.

“Why did you go silent, if I may ask,” you said.

“We may be attacked,” was all he responded with. But he gave you a look that silenced any further questions.

You and Sukuna walked through the village to kill time until the bathing room was ready, and every time you asked him why he needed a bathing room prepared, he would tell you to not worry. You only frowned, hoping that last night would mean something different. You kept on thinking of his head in between your thighs with a mixture of pride and worry, you don’t want to become a glorified whore. You felt your cheeks heat up when you caught a pair of his eyes looking at you before he pulled you closer. He didn’t say anything, and you took the quiet to take in the beautiful village, despite its failure to uphold its bargain. It was nestled by a clear running spring that people used to fish or swim. There was a bridge that connected to the other side of the village, decorated with lanterns.

Despite the day being beautiful, the walkways were empty for you and Sukuna. The vendors looked at you nervously each time you stopped to look at an item. Sukuna watched you carefully, seeing if anything did manage to truly catch your attention, you were captured by jewelry that he would describe as plain. But, he saw your eyes light up looking at a matching set, a gold necklace with a deep red pendant, and a gold ring with the same deep red gem in the center.

“I can’t help but notice,” you held up the necklace to his face, “The color matches your eyes, it’s beautiful.”

Sukuna didn’t say anything, taken aback once again. In the sunlight, your eyes seem to have been glowing, making him annoyingly weak. Once again, he wasn’t sure why something stirred in him when you called his eyes beautiful when you smiled as you said it. He wanted to stay here, to keep this moment forever. He felt something drop in him, thinking this way would lead to nothing good.

“Do you want it?” He managed to ask, and you nodded.

“This is such a simple thing,” he muttered from behind you, putting on your necklace, “I can give you jewelry that these people can’t afford to even look at.”

You stared at the koi fish in the water, watching them glimmer in the light as Sukuna talked. “Well, there’s beauty in simplicity,” you said.

“I guess so,” he whispered against your neck.

The bathhouse was ready soon after you got the jewelry, which caused Sukuna’s face to lighten up a bit. You followed Sukuna up to the door before taking a spot next to it. You were still confused about the need for him to bathe right now, but you weren’t going to press him again. Seeing that he didn’t call for you, or perhaps he didn’t notice that you weren’t in there, you decided to go back into the village and explore what was on the other side of the river.

“Where are you going?” He asked, causing you to stop and turn.

“Back to the village,” you said, “You need privacy.”

“It’s for us,” he smirked, “So come here,” and you felt your heart racing.

The inside was nice, there was even a little table in the corner with a pitcher of water and tea. On a plate was a variety of fruits nuts, and other finger foods. The details of the place became, blurred as Sukuna revealed his true intention for the bathhouse. You couldn’t escape from his grasp as he bounced you on his dick, which was kissing your cervix each time you came down. You could have sworn that you were being split open as your cunt accommodated his size, the pain, and pleasure mixing into something that had your arms wrapped around him as you moaned his name. You didn’t know how many times he made you cum, but he didn’t falter, pistoning in you with renewed energy each time he discovered a new spot that made you cry for him even louder. You felt him move in you, his dark eyes shining with desire as he licked away your tears.

Each time you would beg for him to slow down, he would punish you. Drawing your lips into a heated kiss, his teeth biting your bottom lip and then your neck, as he would remove his fingers from your pulsing clit, causing you to whine. With an arm, he held yours behind your back, forcing you upright. You felt yourself tighten around him as you looked down seeing him pump in and out of you, white wisps coming from where the two of you are connected, and even coming from his neglected other cock.

“You feel just as good as you taste,” he was still bouncing you, talking as if this was a walk in his estate, “But, how would you be able to take my other cock if one is too much?”

“I …” you couldn’t talk, and Sukuna was enjoying this moment a little too much. He loved seeing your tits bounce, the necklace a beautiful touch, and he loved how your eyes were fucked out, only able to focus on him. He leaned forward, kissing your neck, his tongue was cool against your warm skin as he told you to finish your sentence, his finger back to your aching clit, and your arms were free to hold onto him again.

“I … I can,” you breathed against his neck.

“You can?” You can hear the smile in his voice, “Why is that?”

“I’m much stronger than the whores that you keep,” you said, lightly biting on his ear. You felt his laugh in your body, as he roughly kissed your lips.

Soon after, the two of you were lounging on floor cushions, you were pressed against his chest, occasionally turning over to feed him some fruit, which he took, teasingly placing his mouth around your fingers. You felt yourself beginning to doze off, being lulled by the soft sounds of the bathing pool and his arm holding you firmly.

“Uraume might be thinking where we are,” you say, “We should leave.”

“They’ll be fine,” he murmured, “Just rest.”

And when you woke up next, you were resting in his arms, in the carriage. You kissed his cheek, causing him to slightly smile. Looking into his eyes made you wish that you could stay in this honeymoon state. It made you wish that the two of you could run away together, but you knew it would be impossible. He would be hunted down without end. Even if he wasn’t, power and ambition have a permanent residency in his heart.

“We should visit that place more often,” you murmured, “it’s beautiful.”

“I have other villages and cities that the place we were just at can’t compare to, I’ll take you to them in due time,” he said.

“I would love to,” you smiled, “But I do have something else on my mind. It’s about us, and how you-”

“Why did we stop?” Sukuna interrupted you.

You removed yourself from him, sitting up and peering between the curtains. You didn’t see anything, just rolling hills. It was beautiful out there, and that made you on edge. You grabbed your katana, looking at Sukuna, who whispered for you to stay inside. You felt like sitting ducks, as Sukuna thought of what to do, his eyes always shooting towards you.

“We need to go,” you said, making your way to the entrance, “Before we die in here.”

“Then what?” He asked.

“We’ll worry about that once we get out,” you told him.

As you stepped out first, the world erupted into flames, causing the carriage to be shattered into pieces and flames. You and Sukuna landed in opposite directions, and you hazily watched sorcerers approach the both of you. You shakily began to crawl towards Sukuna, seeing that a few of them decided to go after him rather than you. As you crawled to him, the world changed again and you were in a snowy terrain, your breathing visible in the air. No longer visible to the world, you were stuck in a domain.

@t4naiis @midlife-crisisperson @ag1998 , sorry it took so long, I just graduated from my university

[storiesfromafan]

Late Night Moments - Benny x Reader

A/N: I don't think I like this that much...but I'm stilling going to post it.

I'm suffering from writters block, and my headspace isn't that great right now. But I'm trying to still write anything.

The soft tap-tap at your window finally woke you up. Half sitting up you rubbed your eyes before turning on your bedside table and looking at the time; just after midnight. Once more there was a soft tap-tap to your window.

“What the...” you sighed, before slipping from your warm, comfy bed.

Slowly shuffling toward the window, there it was again; tap-tap. Annoyed for whatever it was that was ruining your sleep, you pushed back the white curtains. Looking down from your window on the second floor, you took in the darkness of the night. Only the street lights offering small bouts of light.

Then you saw him. Even in the night you could tell it was Benny. He was standing below your window, and when your eyes adjusted more you could see small rocks scattered by your window on the roof. That’s what the noise was. Benny had been throwing rocks to get your attention. A smile grew on your lips, your stomach a flutter with butterflies. Partially excited to see Benny, but also worried if your father found him out the front of the house.

Almost a week he’d been gone, you were sad without him around. And you weren't sure when Benny would be back in town. He must have gotten back this evening, and no doubt he’d been at Grand and Division catching up with the Vandals. Which you understood. But Benny showing up this late at night meant he couldn’t wait to see you. And it warmed your heart.

You noticed Benny was doing something, your brows drew together in confusion before you recognised he was gesturing for you to come down. You looked back towards your bedroom door, a bit of a nervous habit, before turning back and putting up one finger. Which was to tell Benny to give you a minute, you closed the curtain and moved across your room to your bedroom door, until you recalled that you were in your night dress. So quickly you moved to your closet, choosing to put on a three quarter sleeved sweater, dark slacks and some flats. And before heading out you quickly brushed your hair and put it up in a ponytail. You weren’t trying to win a beauty contest. Plus you’d just been woken up. Yet you were eager to see your man.

Slowly and quietly you closed your bedroom door, before creeping down the hall to the stair case. With all your stealth you walked down the stairs, across the lounge room and opened the front door. Once outside, the door closed with minimal sound, you turned to the front yard of your house and Benny, who waited by the foot path and just out of any light.

Walking towards him you noted how his hands were in the pockets of his jacket, his gaze following your every move. All you could do was admire your boyfriend, who gave off James Dean vibes. From his rebel without a cause air, to that smouldering gaze he gives you when smoking a cigarette. Your man oozed sex appeal. Why he ever chose you was beyond you. If he was James Dean, you’d be more like Doris Day. He was a bad boy, and you the girl next door.

No wonder your parents disapprove of your relationship. And though they might voice it, they never get fully involved. They just hope you’d wake up and come to your senses. Unfortunately for them, you weren’t giving up Benny. Not now, not ever. With him you felt seen and heard, like you were more then what people see when they look at you.

Reaching Benny, he removed his hands from his pockets before you were close enough to wrap an arm around you. Holding you close, Benny steered you down the street to his motorbike. He didn’t want to alert your parents to his presence. The walk seven houses from yours, Benny whispered how much he missed you and couldn’t wait to see you. You giggled and held onto the hand, that was attached to the arm around you.

Reaching his bike, Benny stopped by it, encasing you in his arms as he leant down for a longing kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, happy to lock lips with this fine man. Pulling back you smiled brightly at Benny, who gave you one of his knee weakening smiles in return.

“You must of missed me, huh?” You asked with a giggle.

Benny pulled you close to him. “Always, baby".

Your heart sang at his words. This man always brightened your mood from just being in your space. He made you so unbelievably happy. You just couldn’t understand why your parents couldn’t get that through their thick heads. If Benny asked for you to be his forever, you’d gladly say yes.

“I know it’s late, but wanna go for a ride?” Benny asked, surprising you that he’d still want to ride around after getting back from a run with the boys.

You nodded your head. “Of course Benny, I’ll always ride with you”.

Benny shot you a brief toothy smile before untangling the two of you. Getting on his bike, Benny made quick work of starting it up before holding out his hand to you. Without hesitation you took his hand and swung your leg over. Once settled behind him you wrapped your arms around his waist. Making sure you were set, Benny soon pulled away from the curb and headed further from your house.

He rode through the streets and then the main street of town, heading out toward the open fields and scares farm houses. You held on tightly to Benny, enjoying the feel of him and his warmth. And he was enjoying it too, having the two things he cared most in this moment, you and riding his bike. Benny rode till he reached your spot, a small lake with some trees. It was a place you both discovered one afternoon on a ride. From then on its where you both go to be together.

Benny helped you off the bike and you moved to stand by the lake, while he finished parking his bike. Once done you heard him make his way to you, and then you felt him wrap his arms around your waist and his face burying in the crook of your neck. You smiled at how needy he could be sometimes, but welcomed it whole heartedly.

“You must have missed me a lot" you giggled.

Benny pulled you closer to him, holding you tighter. “Yes, baby".

Your heart sang at his reply. “I missed you terribly” you admitted. “I hate when you go on runs with the guys. But I understand it’s your thing, and you can do what you want".

Benny pulled back and placed a kiss to your temple. “I know ya do. I’m glad you don’t try to change me".

You turned around in his hold, moving your hands to wrap around his neck. “I don’t want to change you Benny, or else you wouldn’t be the bad boy I fell for".

Benny chuckled before leaning in and placing a soft kiss to your lips. “Bad boy you fell for, huh?” He whispered against your lips.

You blushed, burying your face against his shoulder in embarrassment for admitting your feelings for the Vandal. Feelings had never been discussed between you, though you both knew how you both felt for each other. In such a short time – a month – you knew you were in love with Benny. No other man had made you feel like Benny, even if you had only went on a couple dates with the other guys. Yet with Benny there had been no first date, he just claimed you in a bar full of Vandals. Letting them know you were his girl.

Benny didn’t even know you when he did this. He just walked up to your table were you and a couple of your friends were, sat down next to you and gave you that Benny charm, along with flirting. You spent most of that night talking, learning about the man beside you. You were intrigued right from the moment he sat down, and you only grew more into over that night. There was something about Benny that drew you in, and by the time you left, you were trapped in his net.

You left with your girl friends, as you got a lift from them. But Benny did try to get you to let him take you home. You were nervous to tell him it might not be a good idea, as your parents might not like him taking you home. Benny understood, but made sure you agreed to go for a ride with him the next day. You agreed, wanting to spend more time with him. From there it was history.

Benny pulled back, moving a hand to grab your chin and bringing your face into view. You looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes. But when he asked for you to look at him, you couldn’t deny him. Looking upon his face you saw a warm smile, which sparkled in his eyes. Your heart skipping a beat at the sight.

His hand holding your chin held you in place as Benny moved in to kiss you once more. It was soft and tender, taking a moment to enjoy how soft your lips are compared to his slightly chapped ones. You moved your hands to hold on to Benny’s denim vest, needing to ground yourself to something. Then he ran his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. As usually Benny wouldn’t ask for it he’d just take it, but he knew this moment was different to the usual heated make out sessions.

You didn’t deny his request, opening your mouth for Benny and always would. His tongue entered your mouth, seeking out your own. His caressed your tongue slowly, causing you to softly moan. Your grip in his vest tightened, while you moved to press your lips harder to Benny’s, your tongue battling his. You wanted more from him, but Benny refused to turn up the heat of the kiss. He was setting the pace and he wanted it to be slower, but intense. Which he got, for it was frustrating you.

Soon he pulled back, which made you whine and Benny chuckled. “Patience baby".

You pouted. “When have you ever been patient, huh?” You retorted.

“That’s true” his chuckle turning into a soft laugh. “But I’m tryin' now. As I want nothin’ more than is kiss you senseless”.

“Then do that Benny" you continued to whine.

He shook his head. “Not right now, but soon, promise".

You sighed, wanting to move your face from Benny. But with his hold still on your chin, he wouldn’t let you look away from him. He wanted you to focus on him, wanting all your attention. Taking a deep breath, Benny took a moment to go over the thoughts running through his mind. Wanting to make sure he got what he wanted to say out right.

“You are really somethin’, you know that right?” He asked, looking you in the eyes. “And you mean so much to me...I’ve never felt this way about someone before".

You waited with baited breath for Benny to continue, if he would.

Benny’s hand moved from your chin, to cupping your cheek. Thumb caressing your soft, warm skin. “You’ve put a spell on me, ya know that? Because I’m crazy about ya...I love you".

You were shocked. Benny just told you he loved you. And here you thought you’d be the one confessing first. But nope, he was the one laying it out before you. Your heart felt warm and light, butterflies fluttered in your stomach. The biggest smile crossed your lips, as a noise of joy left your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck once more. Planting a quick, hard kiss to his lips, which made Benny laugh.

You pulled back till your lips were just touching. “I love you too Benny!” The excitement evident in your voice.

Benny pulled you close and kissed you once again, only hard and vigorously. Not even waiting for permission to deepen the kiss, just taking what he wanted. Which you wouldn’t have any other way. You both so happy in this moment, feeling each other’s love.

After those confessions, you and Benny took to cuddling up by one of the large trees. Enjoying the bliss of admitting your feelings. Lazily kissing and soft words spoken to each other. Gradually the darkness began to lift, the sky getting lighter, telling you that the day was coming. So reluctantly, you both headed back. The ride was just as good as before, possibly better now with your happiness.

Parking where he first did, Benny cut the engine and put down the kickstand. He then helped you off the bike, before following you. Wrapping his arm around you Benny lead you back to your house. By now the sun was rising, and you knew there was a chance your parents might be up. Did you care? No. Nothing could ruin your mood. Stopping at your neighbours house, Benny kissed you and reluctantly said goodbye.

You continued to slowly walk to the path leading to your house, stopping to look at Benny once more. Those butterflies going nuts from just looking at the gorgeous man watching you, waiting for you to get home safely. Then you turned and walked up to your front door, though it felt more like you were floating. Quietly you opened the door, slipping in and closing it just as quietly. Then you lent against the door, bright smile still on your face as you heard the faint noise of Benny's bike.

Moving from your spot and across the lounge room to the stairs, you were greeted to your mother coming down the stairs. She was surprised to see you, but then noticed you were dressed and goofy grin on your face.

“What are you doing?” She enquired.

You held onto the banister, “nothing ma. Was just out enjoying the morning". And with that you slipped past her and headed to your room.

Of course you passed your father, who gave you a confused look. When your door closed he headed to your mother, who had come back up to watch you. They shared are confused looked.

“What was that?” Your father asked.

Slowly it dawned on your mother, who didn’t know if she should be upset or happy. “Our daughter in love".

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

new hs history teacher(/basketball coach ofc) steve who is being shown around the school by gym teacher chrissy.

she takes him around the building to show him where the teacher's lounge is, the cafeteria, what bathrooms to avoid at all costs, and to where her office is if he ever needs anything.

"If I'm not here, I'm probably in Robbie's class over in the language department."

"Robbie?"

"Robin, my partner. She officially teaches ASL, but she likes to join in on the others' lessons whenever she has downtime."

Finally, once they've covered the whole length of the school, she brings him to his room. "So this is you, and right next door is Eddie, our Criminalistics teacher." gesturing to the still-dark window of the door directly across from his in the alcove. 

There's polaroids covering nearly every inch of the outside of the door, pictures of what he can only assume are students with the same dark-haired man.

"Criminalistics?"

"It's a science elective," she explains, "It focuses on the basics of forensic science!"

"Wow that’s…really?"

She nods enthusiastically, "It’s super interesting,” she nods, moving to unlock the empty what-will-be history classroom. “Eddie’s here on even days, and in the music room on odd days for the guitar elective classes."

"Anything I should know about my wall neighbor?" he asks as she pushes the door open.

It looks like she's going to say no, but something flickers across her face and she winces minutely.

"Oh god, what is it?"

She looks at him sheepishly, "How do you feel about metal music?"

--

Since his tour in mid June, Steve's completely overhauled his classroom. 

The only room available to him was the one down here in the science hall, but he made do, plastering removable whiteboard contact paper to the tops of the lab tables and a little reminder at each spot for the students about his less-than-stellar hearing, to make sure they speak up when answering a question from the back of the room.

And ever since he got his room, he'd been waiting for the day he finally meets his neighbor.

He met Chrissy's Robbie the same day he had the tour, and they clicked instantly (No seriously, how did he ever function before Robin?). Chrissy had made the comment about them being platonic soulmates one night in August when they'd gone out for one too many drinks, and it's stuck ever since.

Speaking of: "What are you still doing here, dingus? It's almost five."

"Yeah, I know, I know," he says, waving her off.

Robin comes in from the hall and plops herself down on one of the table tops instead of helping him hang a map behind his desk. "You're still adding stuff to your walls?"

"Well, I haven't been here for a couple years already, Bobs," he grits out as he stretches up on his toes to hang the far corner of his map. Finally, the eyelet hooks over the many-times-painted-over hook embedded in the concrete wall. "So yes."

"Well you can finish up tomorrow, we," she emphasizes the word by dramatically waving the same sign with her hand between them, "Have a burger date to get to." 

--

The following day, the day before the school year officially starts, Steve arrives early to his classroom, only to find his neighbor's classroom lit up as well.

The be-polaroided door is propped open all the way, the sound of heavy drums and guitar streaming out the door along with the faint smell of moth balls and a spicy incense.

His own room forgotten, Steve steps through Mr. Munson's doorway.

Eddie is standing behind his desk at the front of the room, but hunched over it scribbling onto something.

When Steve's shoe squeaks against the tile floor, Eddie says "Hey, what do you think, identifying skeletal remains, or blood spatter first?" without looking up at him.

"Skeletons, of course." Eddie's head snaps up to look at him. His huge dark eyes are much more striking in person than in a photo. "Much more interesting, yeah?"

Eddie blinks at him. "You're not Chrissy."

"You're correct."

Eddie blinks again, "Who're you?"

"Oh, sorry, hi. I'm Steve. I'm your new neighbor." he gives the other man an awkward wave when he still doesn't move. "Sorry, should I--" he says, gesturing over his shoulder with a thumb.

"No!" Eddie interrupts, standing straight and hurrying out from around his desk. 

He extends a hand and jogs lightly up to Steve. His pen is still laced into his fingers, the end of it chewed flat. "Oh shit, sorry, sorry," he tucks the pen behind his ear, "I'm Eddie. Munson."

"I know," Steve smirks, taking Eddie's hand. "I've been waiting to meet you."

"Oh have you?" he smirks.

"Yeah, Chrissy told me you're her best friend and I wanted your advice on maybe asking her out."

Eddie's face hardens immediately, the warm milk chocolate of his eyes curing into a solid dark, the easy smirk morphing into a cringe as he looks Steve up and down.

He opens his mouth to say something particularly scathing, Steve's sure, but he cuts him off before he can. "I'm kidding, man, I know she's with Robin."

His expression softens just a bit.

"Plus, she's not really my type anyway, even if I were hers."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I'm more into brunettes." Steve winks, finally releasing Eddie's hand. "I still have a bit more to get done, but I'll check in with you later?"

"Oh--yeah, for sure, I'll be here." Eddie stammers out, his cheeks tinged pink.

Steve fist pumps in his head as he heads to his door, You still got it, Harrington.

[hello-there]

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[agathaandbrienneslesbian]

Snow Day

Brienne of Tarth x Fem!Princess!Reader

Hello everyone and Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and Blessed Yule to all of you <3 Just as promised, here is the little fluffy Brienne Fic. I hope you guys enjoy it.

Additionally, I now have a Taglist so make sure to fill out the form so I know who to tag where <3

Big thanks to @weemssapphic and some of my other friends for beta reading my story <3

Disclaimer: English is not my first language!

Warnings: None. Just fluff and cutie patootie Brienne <3

Authors Note: Y/N has been left alone in the castle, as her parents went to another kingdom for an assize. Alone? No. They left Ser Brienne of Tarth to look after their daughter. The best Knight in all of the seven kingdoms surely would be able to protect their child if something were to happen. Little do they know that their daughter and Brienne might enjoy their time alone a bit more than anticipated.

Words: 2'400+

Ao3 Link

Taglist

-----

“This is so boring”, you groaned as you slumped onto the cushions that laid in front of the big window in your chambers, looking outside and watching the snowflakes dance their way to the ground. 

Your parents, the King and the Queen, have been gone for a week now, and they won’t return for another. Being alone in a big castle with nothing to do except for reading and simply… existing… wasn’t too thrilling for you. There was, however, a little light at the end of the tunnel. Your parents decided that you shouldn’t be alone whilst they were gone, and therefore left you under the watchful eyes of Brienne of Tarth. 

THE Brienne of Tarth. The strongest knight in all the seven kingdoms and your secret crush. Yes, it's true. You’ve admired her for a long time, and being alone with her was the cherry on top of the cake. One week alone with her and one week still to come, and she still kept a respectful distance, no matter how many times you tried chatting her up. On some occasions, even tripped on purpose so that she would have to catch you, only for her to set you on your feet and immediately take a step back. You loved how respectful and careful she was with you, but you just wanted to be able to cuddle up to her and run your fingers through that short, blonde and so soft-looking hair. You let out a frustrated sigh and leaned your head on the windowsill. 

“I’m sorry you feel that way, my Lady. Perhaps we could go into the library to read?” Brienne offered, pulling you from your thoughts. You jumped slightly and turned to look at her. Since when has she been standing at the entrance to your room? She stood there in her royal Knights tunic, a belt fastened around her waist. You couldn’t get enough of the sight, staring at her without noticing as your cheeks flushed a light pink hue. 

“My Lady?” the blonde tried again, ripping you from your thoughts once more. You let out a sigh. 

“I don’t know… I don’t really feel like reading” You turned your head to the window again, not wanting to make her uncomfortable with your very obvious staring. Watching the snowflakes get less and less, you suddenly had an idea, sitting up quickly, which made Brienne jump a bit at the abruptness of your movement. 

“Let’s go outside!” you suggested, turning your face to look at Brienne again with a wide smile. “Just for a walk!” 

“I don’t know, my Lady…” Brienne was clearly hesitant and whilst you didn’t want to push her, you still wanted to do something else than just read and lounge around. You decided to give her your best puppy eyes. 

“Please? Oh, please Ser!” You flutter your eyelashes and look at her with a pleading expression. The Knight thought for a second, then sighed and nodded. 

“Alright.” She said, and you sprang up in excitement. You walked to your closet, pulled out your winter coat and furs and set them on your bed. Looking up, you saw Brienne still standing there. Was she waiting for you? 

“I can meet you down in the hall so you can get ready too.” You offered, and she waited for a second, thinking and then nodding. 

“I will be awaiting you in the Great Hall, my Lady.” She replied before leaving your room to get ready herself. You quickly threw on your coat and wrapped the furs around your shoulders, attaching them with straps so they wouldn’t fall. You put on your thick winter shoewear, grabbed your gloves and after a last look into the mirror you left your chambers. Just as promised, Brienne was waiting for you in the great hall, clad in her furs and thick boots. She had her sword strapped to her belt again and was holding the grip, resting her hand on it. Brienne looked absolutely stunning, standing there, hand on her sword, clad in her winter coat. You swallowed dryly and felt your cheeks flush as you approached her. Smiling sweetly at her, Brienne nodded and opened the door for you. 

The cold air felt nice as you stepped into the open. Brienne and you walked through the garden towards the little forested area in silence, just enjoying the fresh air. The forest was dark, snow covering every surface. No tree, nor branch, nor leaf was showing. It looked as if you were walking through a magical portal. The only sound you heard was the soft whistling of the wind and your and Brienne’s footsteps in the snow. 

“It’s beautiful, isn't it?” You asked, turning your head to look at Brienne who wore a soft, almost invisible smile, and she hummed in agreement. Her cheeks and nose were pink from the cold, and her eyes sparkled in the cold atmosphere. She looked ethereal. Your ears grew hot with a blush and you decided to look around. You reached an open area, surrounded by trees, and that’s when you had an idea. Bending down, you grabbed some snow, rolling it into a ball and then throwing it at the unexpecting blonde. With a soft ‘thud’ the snowball broke apart against the Knight’s coat, and she looked at you with surprise. You giggled. 

“Let’s have a snowball fight!” You said, already leaning down again to pick up more snow. 

“My Lady, I don't think this is a good idea. Maybe we should go back now. Your cheeks are all red. I wouldn't want you getting sick!” Brienne replied, but you didn’t answer, simply throwing another snowball at her with a teasing smirk. 

“Come on Ser! It’s so nice here and the snow is perfect!” leaning down, you collected some more snow, creating another snowball and throwing it at her. Brienne seemed unsure, you saw it on her face. She wanted to let go and have fun, but she held herself back. 

“I know you want to! Just do it! Promise I won’t be mad if you hit me. IF you manage to hit me.” You tease, hoping that would get her playful spirit up. The smirk on your face widened when you saw Brienne resting a hand on her hip, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. 

“IF?” she asked “I don’t want to brag, but my aim is rather precise,” she said warningly, staring you down, but there was a playful smile tugging at her lips. You got her right where you wanted her. 

“I’ll only believe it if I see it. Until then, I guess you’re just bad at snowball fights!” You teased, taking a step closer, and watched Brienne break her protective wall she built up. All the talking and the time you got to spend together made Brienne want to open up to you. You didn’t know it, but Brienne fell for you, hard. The first time she saw you, she was starstruck. The way your lips curled into a sweet and welcoming smile every time you saw her, the way your eyes sparkled and how animatedly you talked to her about your favourite topics, and she absolutely adored how clumsy you are. This week was difficult for Brienne for she wanted nothing more but to confess her feelings for you. But she didn’t. She was afraid you would reject her, so she kept her distance, but you made it more difficult every single day. 

“I think you’re just a coward,” you test her, playful smile on your face as you throw another snowball at her. Her gaze turned into a competitive smirk, and at that moment you almost regretted teasing her so much. You knew her strength, her poise, her grace. You knew she would have you yield within seconds in a snowball fight, but you stood your ground. Wanting her to let loose and have fun for once. 

“I’ll give you 10 seconds,” she simply said as she leaned down and started collecting snow for a snowball. It took you about 3 seconds to realise what she had just said, then your eyes widened, and you started grabbing snow, running away with a wide smile, a laugh threatening to spill over your lips. The moment you thought you had enough distance from her, you turned around, only to be hit by a snowball with deadly precision. It hit your chest and the snow trickled down your coat into your garments. You shrieked and just threw a snowball blindly, trying to shake the snow out of your coat. When you looked back up, a single laugh left your lips. You had hit Brienne square in the face with the snowball. Trying not to laugh too much, you took shaking breaths. 

“I am so sorry, Ser. Are you okay?”  You took a step forward, then stopped dead in your tracks. Brienne wiped the snow off her face and looked at you with determination, a dangerous smile on her lips. 

“I’ll get you back for that, Princess!” She said as she started charging towards you, snow in her hand. You squeaked and started running away, unable to hold your laughter back any more. You stumbled and tripped over snow, slipping and sliding the more you tried to run.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you repeated over and over again between gasps of air and laughs. You turned around, wanting to see how close Brienne was, when you suddenly slipped and fell over, rolling onto your back with a laugh. Brienne came to an abrupt halt, which caused her to slip, falling onto the soft snowy ground next to you. She had a huge smile plastered on her face and quickly gathered some snow to throw it on you. You squealed again, wriggling around to free yourself of the snow. Brienne started giggling quietly and watched you, cheeks and nose rosy from the cold, the soft wrinkles next to your eyes from laughing and the wide smile plastered on your face. She was madly in love with you. With a swift move, you turn towards her, thinking it to be the best way to get rid of her throwing snow onto you. Rolling around, you suddenly realised that she was much closer than anticipated. You bumped into her chest, coming face to face with the strong blonde, who instinctively wrapped her arms around you. Your laughs came to a halt, just looking up at her with a smile, admiring her face. Brienne blushed darkly, she wanted to separate again, give you space, but she found herself unable to when you slowly leaned up and pecked the corner of her lips. She closed her eyes, just for a second, taking a shaky breath. 

You did it. Suddenly, the realisation of what you did just hit you as you made eye contact with the Knight. Suddenly, you felt afraid. Before you could pull away and start rambling, the blonde cupped your cheek, pulling you close to plant a soft kiss on your lips, which you reciprocated gladly. She pulled away, stroking your cheek gently, looking into your eyes deeply. You smiled at her and your smile was so wide and happy, Brienne felt her heart burst. All the smiles, all the accidental touches, all the moments where you were so close to her and she pulled away. She now realised that you felt the same all along, and it filled her heart with joy and love. You pecked her lips again quickly, and then a shudder went through you, making Brienne frown. 

“Are you cold?” she asked, sitting up and pulling you up with her. You nodded. 

“Let's go back then. I don’t want you to get sick. Come!” She stood, pulling you up with her, and you held close onto her arm. You couldn’t believe it. She felt the same, she actually felt the same. This was no one-sided love. You were overjoyed. 

The walk back to the castle was quiet. The both of you enjoying each other’s company, basking in the closeness that both of you have longed for so long. Walking into the castle, Brienne and you made your way to the library to warm up in front of the fire. Both of your coats were taken by the maids, taking them back to your chambers to clean them and put them back in the closets. The maids brought some tea for the two of you to warm up whilst you sat in front of the fireplace on the heaps of pillows and furs to warm up. 

You leaned against Brienne as she had her arms wrapped around you, holding you close to her. You turned your head, looking up at her and pressing a kiss to her cheek, making her smile. 

“Brienne?” you asked, nervous about her reaction to you using her first name. The tall blonde blushed. Her name sounded so beautiful coming from you. Like a melody, like a prayer. She hummed in response, urging you to continue. You sat up, taking a deep breath and looking into her eyes. She grew nervous seeing you so anxious.

“May… May I court you… Brienne of Tarth. Properly court you?” You watched her reaction before continuing. Her eyes widened as she watched you, speechless. Was this really happening?

“I- I have found myself a fool for you ever since I laid my eyes on you for the first time. So..- here I ask you. Will you allow me to court you, to cherish you… to love you?” You looked at her, holding your breath in nervous anticipation of her answer. Brienne nodded gently, tears threatening to swell in her eyes. She couldn’t believe her ears. But you were so sincere, you… you really loved her. She sat up, went on one knee and held your hand, looking into your eyes. 

“My Lady… Y/N,” she started, “I will shield your back and give my life for yours if it comes to that. I swear it by the old gods and the new. I am yours, eternally.” You smiled at her, not being able to hold back your tears, as you wrapped your arms around her and kissed her lips. Her arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close to her as she let her emotions flow freely. Not once has she felt this loved and cherished. You pulled away, cupping her cheeks and wiping her tears from under her eyes. 

“My Brienne,” you whispered, sealing the promise with a kiss once more.

-------

Taglist: @erinyaya @vivendraws @phexyce @winterfireblond

As always comments and likes are greatly appreciated <3

[fadingdaggerr]

hey! I just wanted to see if I could request a Melissa x Reader fic where basically r is a teacher at the school and her best friend is ava, and r has the fattest crush on melissa ever but the only ones who know are ava, barbra, and mr johnson (bc dude knows everything)

and ava and barbra are trying to be wingman because melissa likes r. so just a bunch of mutual pining and fluff. and when they confess it’s snowing.

if you can’t do that that’s totally fine! but if you do thanks in advance and take your time

as you ever were

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above | 8k

includes: mutual pining, ava and barb meddling, kinda dialogue heavy oops, these bitches Oblivious, author is a classics nerd

warnings: (minimal) they/them pronoun use for R, sexual innuendos, (brief) alcohol consumption, kissing/light making out

note: sorry i took so long getting to this req. school started up and work is genuinely insane. plus i got a little too into writing this so editing too a little while. i actually really like how this turned out :)

Unforecasted frozen rain forced recess to be inside, everyone was to just stick to their classroom since there was no time to prepare the gymnasium for indoor recess on such short notice. The kids spent the first five minutes of recess begging you to go outside, to which you open the window, to which Sean says oh, hell no, resulting in a scolding from you.

Within five more minutes, your teacher-senses begin to tingle. Something is wrong. Looking up from your record book, you glance around the classroom until your eyes land on Karam. The seven year old had just moved to Philly with his parents a few weeks ago, and with this being his first week at a new school, he has been understandably frazzled. The boy is facing towards your desk, away from his classmates, sitting on a beanbag chair and crying to himself.

Immediately, you rise out of your chair and approach him gently, lowering yourself to sit criss-cross in front of him. “Hey, Karam. What’s going on?” you ask calmly, not trying to draw attention to his state nor baby him. The only response you get is a shake of the head, so you ask, “would you like some alone time right here?” Another shake of the head, another question, “do you want to talk alone, just you and me? You can bring Pickle.”

This offer seems to appease him, he instantly stands and goes to his backpack to grab his beloved stuffed sea lion. You get to the doorway and keep your hand on his shoulder where he stands just out of sight of the other kids, hoping no one will see him and decide to get nosy.

“Okay, chickens. I’m going to run across the hall very quickly, keep doing what you’re doing. Ashante, honey, you’re in charge,” you say with a little grin, it becomes a full smile when the girl salutes you.

Once you’re in the hall, Karam grabs your hand tightly with big tears ready to fall, and stays close as you cross diagonally to some of your students' previous second grade classroom. You lean into the doorway, still keeping Karam out of sight of others, and knock to gain a certain redhead’s attention. She’s quick to get to you, seeing a sort of urgency on your face.

“What’s up?”

“Can you watch my class, please? I’ve got a situation here,” you tip your head to the side to gesture to Karam, still gripping your hand and sniffling. “I promise I’ll pay you back somehow, lunch, lunch duty, recess duty, whatever. Just, please?”

Melissa takes one look at you pleading eyes and knows she can’t say no to you, especially not with a sad little friend by your side. “You owe me nothing. I’ll bring the kids to my room and you can come get ‘em after,” she says with a tone she hopes shows she’s being genuine.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” you rush out, immediately your attention falling back to the tears rolling down Karam’s cheeks. Melissa scoots over to your room, corralling the kids across the hall with an excited tone to keep their eyes on her and not you and their classmate.

With the extra bodies in the room, Melissa finds that the doorway was a good place to observe all the kids in her room. Though she tries to keep her eagle eyes on the students, they slowly slide to your form in the hall, crouched down below the boy’s eye level with his hand in yours. Her ears feel like a radio, tuning into the hushed volume you keep.

“It’s okay to be sad, buddy. Everything and everyone is so new, you’re allowed to be scared,” you say as you wipe his cheeks with a tissue, “and you and I both know that baba and daddy would never bring you somewhere that wasn’t safe. And Pickle, he’s here for you, and so am I.”

The boy leans into you for a hug, and your arms wrap tightly around him. Melissa tries not to stare, but she’s unable to take her eyes off the interaction. The way you rock him gently side to side, it was clear you weren’t letting go until he did. She vaguely remembers you mentioning that being a rule of yours when you first started at Abbott, when you took over her third grade class and her entire field of vision. 

Melissa averts her eyes back to the kids as the hug ends, but she still listens discreetly. You wipe Karam’s face as you speak, “let’s go get you some water, okay? And maybe, if you use those puppy eyes, nurse Makiah will let you pick out a lollipop. Does that sound like a deal?”

“Do we have to come back to recess?” The shyness in his voice makes you pout.

“Yes, because Miss Schemmenti was super nice to watch all our friends for me while we’re talking, and I’m sure she’d like her room back,” you peek up to Melissa quickly, “and when we get back, we’re gonna say a big ‘thank you,’ alright?”

“Yeah,” Karam answers quietly, but his next words are so quiet you barely hear them, “thank you.”

“Of course, chicken. Let’s go.” Melissa pretends she’s not watching you walk down the hall with a hand still in Karam’s, her eyes switch back to her class when you disappear around the corner.

When you return to get the kids from Melissa, she instead insists that you just sit out the rest of recess in her room since the students were already playing together. That’s the only reason, nothing else. You keep a cautious eye on Karam as he sits down to draw with one of Melissa’s students, and once you see him start to arrange his colors, you drift your attention to the woman next to you.

“Thank you, seriously. And I will be paying you back for this,” you say, bumping your shoulder with hers.

“I said you ain’t gotta do anyth-”

You cut her off, “I said. I’m. Paying. You. Back. Just accept it, I’m not budging.”

All she gives as an answer is a huff through her nose, but the smile that stretches her lips makes you feel fluttery. Her smile is not a rare sight, but it’s rare that you get to see it this close. When she faces away for only a couple seconds, you take the time to just take her in. Beautiful.

In the hall, a conversation between Barbara and Ava about clearing an extra bulletin board for the kindergarteners art projects was halted when they caught Melissa watching you with Karam. Both women looked at her, unseen even by Melissa’s typically sensitive attention, and all they saw was a soft putty of a woman. When you returned to the classroom, they slowly got closer to see what was going on, curiosity drawing them in.

All they could see were gentle, shy smiles and hidden glances of adoration for each other. It clicked in their minds at the same moment. Their best friends had it bad for each other.

Their plan was formed in a single glance.

—☽—

“So… What are you gonna do about Red?” Ava asks as she reaches the midpoint of her braid.

You’re sitting behind her on a cushion, parting a section in the back of her head to start on a braid yourself. Your focus makes your response time slower and quieter than usual, “what d’ya mean?”

Ava’s chuckles, “how you’ve got the hots for Schemmenti.”

Her obvious tone makes you stall, too long, but you try to deflect anyway, “I’ve got no clue what you mean.”

She laughs. Ava laughs and it would be in your face if she weren’t so busy with her hair. She doesn’t need to turn to know you’ve got that shocked expression on your face, the one where your eyes are wide and blank, face otherwise neutral, but she knows the expression well. The first time she’d seen it was the day she met you in seventh grade, and she proclaimed you her best friend to everyone in the cafeteria, just a mere three hours after meeting each other.

“Don’t lie to me, Gremlin,” she jokes, using her nickname for you she adopted from your favorite movie as a kid, “I know when you like someone, and you want that Italian sub to Italian dom you.”

“I hate you,” you groan, “if you mention even a single thing to her Ava, I will buy out all the caramel hair from the beauty supply and you’ll never see it again.” She gasps, as if it were a real threat you could carry out on your budget, but she knows how serious you are. With a roll of her eyes, Ava decides to hold off until you’re not braiding her hair to annoy you more.

Much later into the night and all there is really left to do is trim, seal, and add products to her roots, Ava knows she can’t let the topic of the previous conversation go. She decides to speak up while she trims the last few front pieces and you pick up the hair packaging and combs from around the room.

“Just saying though, if you stopped making ‘I wanna have your babies’ eyes, you could ask her out,” Ava tries to explain. She almost adds a what’s the worst that could happen? but she knows exactly where your mind will go.

“I don’t wanna ‘have her babies,’ you freak,” you sigh as you get some hot water, “I just… I dunno. I don’t want to ruin the friendship I have with her when she inevitably rejects me.”

She’s obsessed with you, she won’t reject you, Ava wants to say. Even if others, and even herself, would label her selfish, the one thing she doesn’t ever let slide is you letting your insecurity get the best of you. She likes her extra job as your personal hype-woman when you get in your head. Ava weighs her option, “well… you could put out some feelers. Invite her somewhere or, I don’t know, look her in the eye when you talk to her.”

“You’re right,” you say with a gruffness that she knows is defeat. If she can just get you and Melissa talking, interacting more, then maybe she and Barb can figure out a way to worm you two together.

“You do like her, don’t you?” She knows the answer, she wants you to say it though.

There’s a deep inhale before you answer, “of course I do. She- she’s so- I do like her, so much. Like, I want to bite a chunk out of the table when she looks at me.”

“Yeah, don’t do that, we don’t know where they’ve been,” Ava says with a touch of disgust, “and she’ll think you’re more of a freak than you already are.” She rightfully earns a smack on the shoulder at that one.

Dipping the ends of her hair into the hot water, you think silently. Ava has a point, if you spent even a tenth of the time you spend thinking about Melissa, when she was right in front of you, talking to her instead, you’d probably not be so nervous at the thought of making eye contact with her. Sometimes it was nice though, just getting to look at her, seeing her easy smile when she speaks to Barbara and the playful glint in her eye when she lovingly picks on Jacob. Whenever her attention falls on you, you shy away. Maybe Ava has a point.

At Barbara and Melissa’s weekly brunch that same Saturday morning, their conversation falls down a similar path.

Ever the professional deterrer, Melissa manages to push the conversation away from the topic of you, trying to keep Barb on Gerald or bible club. Usually her friend catches the hint to stay away from the topic, but there’s no way she was getting out of this one.

“So… are we gonna keep beating around the bush or are we going to talk about it?”

Melissa just sips her mimosa, suddenly interested in the painting across the room.

“Melissa.”

What… interesting brush strokes.

“Melissa Ann, so help me.”

She turns back, “yes, Barb?”

“Don’t ‘yes, Barb’ me. Spill,” there is no room for argument.

“There’s nothing to spill, Barb,” Melissa says, and she means it. It’s clear Barbara had picked up on her feelings for you, but nothing had been done to go past acknowledging she cared for you.

Barb tilts her head to the side, “oh, really? So, we’re just going to pretend that you’re not utterly infatuated with everyone’s new favorite third grade teacher?” Melissa stares at Barbara with wide eyes, thrown off by the blunt nature of her inquiry. Her friend only shakes her head, “for the good Lord’s sake, Melissa. Anyone with eyes can see you’ve got feelings for them, and I know you know that too.”

Green eyes shift away from brown, and they instead stare at the drink in front of her, nervous hands coming up to play with the umbrella to keep them busy instead of shaking in her lap. What Barb said wasn’t untrue, she knows it. Barbara Howard is always right in the end. But that isn’t where the apprehension in her gut stems from.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Melissa mumbles, insecurity from her mind reaching her throat.

Barbara can sense it and tries a softer approach, “I think I can say on good authority that the feelings are probably mutual. You could give it a shot, they’d be lucky to have you.”

“And what’s that good authority?”

“My eyes,” Barbara deadpans, her face reading are you serious?

The conversation stops there, more of a self preservation move for the kindergarten teacher. Underneath the silence from Melissa, it’s obvious her mind is going in circles trying to weigh her options. Did she have feelings for you? Yes. But would she do anything if she wasn’t one hundred percent certain you’d return her feelings? No. She was almost certain you didn’t, you rarely ever looked her in the eye and you got all quiet and mumbly when she spoke.

Conclusion: Barb’s nuts.

—☽—

When Monday comes back around, you feel like the air in the lounge, or at least around your table, is different. Barbara’s eyes keep shifting between you and Melissa in what she thinks are subtle glances, but the constant eyes on you start making you nervous. Shifting uncomfortably for a moment, you rise from your chair to go to the coffee pot to get away from the prying. While your back is to them, a different form of attention falls on you. Olive eyes scan over you with a soft glint, taking the opportunity to admire you when you’re not looking. Her attention feels different from Barb’s, you can feel it without seeing it. It’s warm, all consuming.

When you turn back around, you can see a section of Melissa’s hair swinging slightly from motion. She was looking at you, and she was hiding it horribly. Instead of mentioning it, you just sit and check your school email. In the weekly scheduling, you see that the recess duty that you typically had with Mrs. Benning from sixth grade, was now with Melissa for the entire week.

Your eyebrows jump slightly at the find, before you have to fight an eye roll at Ava’s obvious meddling. Seeing this, Melissa speaks up, “something interesting?”

“No, no,” you barely get out at a normal cadence, “just switches in the schedule, wasn’t expecting it.”

She nods slowly, “are you… not okay with that?” You try not to pout at the insecurity that bleeds just the smallest amount in her question.

“Of course I’m okay with it, no reason not to be,” you hope your genuineness was showing, “just different is all.” A muted smirk crosses her lips before she takes a sip of her coffee to cover her face, you pretend not to notice the move, as well as the butterflies swarming in your stomach. You turn your attention to your phone in your lap.

To AVA ♔ : you’re not slick

From AVA ♔ : good thing i wasn’t trying to be

From AVA ♔ : get up in that cannoli

To AVA ♔ : speaking privileges revoked until further notice

You try to not think about the prospect of an extra half hour with Melissa today, and for the rest of the week, but the thought of her crosses your mind and brings a smile to your face. When you are walking your kids back from music, you selfishly take the extra second you’re in the hall to glance towards Melissa’s classroom. Cursive letters on the board in her loopy handwriting being narrated by her expressive face and fast-moving hands. Another grin crosses your lips before you spin on your heel back to your room.

As lunch rolls around, there’s a giddy feeling in your chest that grows with every passing second. Was she even going to talk to you? Maybe not, but time with Melissa is time with Melissa. Just when you’re sliding your gloves on, there’s a tap at your door. Red hair tucked under an Eagles hat and thick black jacket, she’s never been more beautiful.

Winter at Abbott meant beautifully crafted snowmen that had just a touch of dirt on it, but the kids just decided it was freckles. Most of them were working together on their snowmen, while others were trying to see how long they could hang upside down on the monkey bars in their snow clothes. Melissa, after five minutes of churning the idea over in her mind, moves closer to you, the nylon of your jackets making a fssh sound as they brush together gently. The red on her cheeks was likely from the cold, but the darker shade that blossoms at you smiling and turning to her, that’s all you.

The silence between you is easy, for once it doesn’t make Melissa skeptical. It’s comforting, no nervous rambling or awkward attempts to fill the silence, just peaceful silence as your shoulder moves closer to hers.

Tuesday is just the same, with Melissa coming to your classroom to pick you up for recess duty. Wednesday you meet her in your doorway. The peaceful silence is broken when you check your phone to see copious texts in the teacher group chat, most of which are Janine and Jacob and only two are Gregory. All you let out is a little hum.

“What’s going on?” Melissa asks from beside you, her eyes staying on Marcus attempting to climb on top of the monkey bars.

“Groupchat’s going crazy. Janine and Jacob want a ‘teacher’s night out plus Ava,’ and they’re asking if everyone’s good to go next Friday at seven,” your tone suggests a bit of disinterest, but if Melissa goes, you could be easily persuaded.

Her brows scrunch for only a half second before asking, “what bar?”

“The Penman’s Alcove? Guess Jacob suggested it,” you say after scrolling through the nearly forty messages.

“Sounds like Jacob suggested it,” she says with a sputtered laugh. To her delight, you chuckle from beside her, and she brings her full attention to you, “you going?”

You bite your inner lip and flick your eyes to the side, “maybe. Are you?”

“Maybe.”

—☽—

Ava, who always demands you pick her up when you go out, insists on driving to the bar. When she gets to your apartment and does a once over of your jeans and loose-fitting sweater, she gives you a face of disapproval.

“That is not club attire. What ladies are you going to pick up if you’re dressed like a grandma?”

You roll your eyes as you move to let her in, “it’s not a club, it’s a bar. That Jacob picked out. And I’m not trying to ‘pick up’ ladies?”

“Aw, you’re already committed to Schemmenti. Cute,” her laugh at her own comment is cut off by the pillow you whip at her head, another ready if she pipes up again, “no need to get violent, I’ll stop.”

Her only reply is a huff as you grab your boots and shove in your fluffy-socked feet. Ava rises off the couch, leaving the pillow-turned-missile behind. When she’d asked you earlier in the day if ‘your woman’ was coming to the bar, you’d only shrugged, but with a quick text to Barbara, Ava knew the redhead would be there.

Barbara and Ava had made a pact, that despite their differing reasons for not wanting to go, would only attend the outing to insure that you and Melissa would both go as well. It had taken some convincing on Melissa’s end, but the moment her best friend said your name, her tune changed. She agreed to go as long as she drove herself there, so that when she wanted to inevitably leave early, she could.

As Ava pulls into the parking lot of the bar, neither of you hold back the rolling of your eyes. It was very Jacob. You share a look with your best friend, silently asking what did we agree to?

The Penman’s Alcove is tiny, shoved into one of the smallest brick buildings either of you had ever seen. One window was completely blocked off by a decorative book display, the other gave view to the wooden bar top and wooden support beam that was turned into a cylindrical bookcase with lights weaving around it. What is lacking in space, it clearly made up for in atmosphere.

“You both came!” Jacob’s voice echoes from the door to where you and Ava stand as you evaluate the building. You immediately elbow Ava to stop the joke that you could feel on the tip of her tongue. 

“Said I would, didn’t I?” you asked as you got closer, appreciating how Jacob switched his arms from the instinctive hug he wanted to give to giving you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Anyone else here yet?”

“Well, Janine, Gregory, me, duh, Barbara, and Melissa just got here, so,” his voice becomes a little sheepish, “you’re the last ones here.”

“Fashionably late,” you and Ava say at the same time, though your tone is more flat since you only said it because you knew she would.

Walking into the bar, the small space didn’t feel bigger, just smaller as you realized just how many shelves of countless books there were. The twenty person capacity limit was starting to make sense as you quickly side stepped around other people to keep up with Jacob. Everyone comes into view, but as green eyes meet yours, cameo light surrounds her and she’s all you can see. The stutter in your step is noticed by no one but Ava, who subtly grabs your arm to pull you closer to everyone, closer to Melissa.

Greetings and small talk fill the space, but all of it is background noise. When Janine finally releases you from her energetic retelling of the four hours it’s been since she last saw you, your attention is finally able to rest on the woman who it had been dying to be on. Melissa sees your eyes flick around until they find her, and she curses how her heart flutters at the way you move towards her in an instant.

Leaning your arms on the bartop, you lean over slightly to order a rum and coke before turning entirely towards the redhead. Even though it had been barely four hours since you’d seen her, you felt yourself missing her. Her eyes, her hair, her laugh, especially the one she barks out when she can’t control herself and laughs suddenly. Something in the navy shirt she wore instead of her bright greens and pinks told you she wanted to fit into the environment, like she didn’t want anyone to see her in such a… Jacob place. Her attempt to keep attention away, yet for you it was impossible not to be drawn to her.

Just like every other time you saw her, your eyes quickly dipped to her neck, a tiny smile passing your lips at her Saint Dominic pendant she had received from her Nana before she’d passed. When you met her eyes, the small smile on your lips grew, and hers did to match.

“Thought you’d never show up,” Melissa says playfully, but with a quiet tone, her words only for you.

“Surprised you even showed,” you mimicked her tone.

Melissa weighs her options before replying, “Barbara told me I should, told me I can count it as my good act of the year.” She relishes in your silent laugh, little puffed breaths leaving you as you turn your face away from her just for a moment to hide. Melissa had realized three days into knowing you that this was her favorite thing, this quiet laugh of yours, she knew that when you turned away, it meant it was genuine.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” you say with earnest, “if that's any consolation.”

A smile plays on glossy, pink lips, “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

Two drinks later, and you found yourself meandering through the shelves of books, naturally being drawn to the fantasy section that was oddly close to the classics you also enjoyed. The small bar had reached capacity only a half hour after you’d arrived, and the bustling conversation was starting to pierce your eardrums. The cushions on the floor had become your new seat, in this almost-quiet corner.

The light vibrations of footsteps approaching brings your mind out of the dragon story you were falling into. Your eyes look up to see red hair contrasting against the shadows from the shelves. Melissa lowers herself carefully onto the cushion beside you, taking utmost care in not getting too far into your space. Her finger pokes the book in your hands, pushing it closer to you to read the cover, only a low hum leaving her throat.

She bumps her knee with yours, a silent you alright? She’s seen you get overwhelmed at assemblies and work parties before, often keeping an eye on you as you stuck to a corner, too polite to leave the room. You bump her knee back, a little smile on your lips, a quiet I’m okay. Melissa plays with the creases in her jeans as she tries to think of what to say, but you beat her to it.

“You know what’s fucked? You can’t even check out the books here,” you state with exasperation. “What’s the point of having all these books if you can only read them if you come here?”

Melissa warms with affection at your word, “No one would bring them back, hon.”

“I would,” you mumble with an incredulous tone in your voice, “but no, not even a checkout fee or, I don’t know, collateral.”

“Collateral!” Melissa laughs out. “Gonna hand over your watch to hold onto until you bring the book back?”

“I’d give them my car for those early editions of Mary Shelley’s work,” you half-joke as you nod towards the faded green and blue books. You look at Melissa for a moment, reading her face quickly before leaning into her space, “don’t even suggest stealing them.”

“Would they even notice?”

“These IPA-enjoyers? Definitely, unfortunately.”

Melissa never cared much for the classics, especially not the ones assigned to her in school. She preferred the historical fiction and true crime novels her grandfather introduced her to, but there was something intriguing about the ones you were showing her. There is peace in the way your fingers trace over the pages, a sort of reverence in how you hold each book. Sylvia Plath and Emily Brontë, Greek tragedies and comedies, they never sounded this interesting as they did when they came from your lips.

The world outside of this hidden corner continues to disappear around the two of you, the prying eyes peeking around the corner are completely lost on the two of you. Your eyes on the books, Melissa’s eyes on you. Ava and Barbara’s eyes, on the other hand, were flicking between the two of you before finding each other's eyes. A shared nod began the next step in their plan.

Ava, in a highly out of character fashion, quietly left the bar without saying anything to anyone, and drove off towards Iggy’s apartment. Barbara, pretending not to notice, went back to her conversation with Gregory regarding what he plans on growing in the garden for springtime. It’s Janine who notices Ava’s lacking presence, she peeks out into the parking lot, and sure enough, the silver car you’d arrived in was gone.

In a child-like fashion, Janine tugs on Barbara’s sleeve to gain her attention, “Ava’s gone.”

“What?” Barbara responds with faux surprise.

“Ava, she left. Like, gone. Not here,” without having to ask Barbara to be the one to tell you, Janine was definitely hinting at not being the one to say your best friend ditched you here.

The kindergarten teacher follows the maze of shelves, steps quickening as she gets closer to hushed voices in the furthest corner. In your own little, say you and Melissa, her legs stretched out as she leaned back against her hands while you sat close to her in criss-cross. There are two piles of older books in front of you, ones you had already shown her and the ones you were going to, and Melissa seemed completely unbothered by the infodumping you laid upon her.

Barbara politely clears her throat to make you aware of her presence, watching you nearly jumping away from Melissa as you realize the closeness between you. Pretending not to notice she speaks carefully, “dear, I just wanted to tell you that Ava left a couple of minutes ago.”

The nerves you felt dissipate, annoyance and a small anger taking its place, “what do you mean? She fully just left? Did she even say anything?”

“No, she must’ve snuck out. Janine noticed before the rest of us that she’d taken off,” Barbara is impressed by her own ability to fib so easily.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, keeping yourself from exploding. You rise from your spot next to the redhead, who is quick to follow in your stride, and grab your phone to call you friend. Speedily stepping through the shelves, you step outside as you press Ava’s contact.

She picks up on the second ring, which only pisses you off further, “what’s up, boo?”

“Where the fuck are you? You did not just seriously ditch me,” you waste no time.

“That little library was not the vibe. Plus, you were too busy nerding it up with Red,” she jokes, almost mockingly.

“You were my ride, Ava,” you sigh, “this isn’t cool, especially when I’m going to have to ask Janine to drive me home since she carpooled with Jacob and Gregory.”

“I know who you can ask for a ride,” the laugh she speaks through only hammers home your aggravation, “maybe she’ll give you more than one.”

A hard groan escapes your throat, “you owe me big time, asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thank me later,” she hangs up on you before you can respond, the beeping tone of the disconnection feels more mocking than your friend straight up laughing in your ear.

When you step back inside, your brows are furrowed, deep creases on your forehead as you practically steam with anger. Never before would Janine, Gregory, or Jacob say they were intimidated by you, but right now, they can’t deny that you are almost as frightening as Melissa’s angry walk. Barbara looks at Melissa pointedly, motioning with her head towards you to tell her to talk to you.

The redhead is already in motion, immediately in front of you, “what did she say?”

Sarcasm and irritation drop from your voice, “the ‘library’ wasn’t ‘her vibe,’ so she’s apparently ditching me to ride home with Gregory and the Chipmunks.”

She doesn’t want to laugh at your predicament, but she can’t help it. Her hand rises to rub your arm reassuringly, “I’ll drive you home.”

“You don’t ha-”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Let me get you home,” the gentleness in her voice makes the icy anger in you melt into a puddle, the hand on your arm was grounding.

“Okay,” your voice just above a whisper in the space between you.

“Okay,” her tone matching yours as she smiles.

Melissa’s car is warm, her presence beside you warmer. With only a couple blocks left before you reach your apartment, you find yourself wishing you knew how to slow, or even stop, time. Would inviting her upstairs seem forward? Is asking her if she wants coffee better? No, stupid, who wants coffee at ten at night? All you need is to be around her.

When her car parks in the lot of your building, neither of you move, not you to get out or her to tell you to. You turn your face towards her, resting your chin on your shoulder, peering through your lashes at her. She matches your position, looking back at you with a little grin.

“Thank you for listening to me,” your voice is quiet and insecure.

Melissa leans a little closer, “thank you for letting me.”

“I’ll see you Monday?” You don’t want to leave, but despite it being Friday, it has also been a school day. You’re tired, and you can see in her slightly droopy eyes that she is too.

“Bright and early,” she answers, eyes flicking to your lips shortly in a way you wish you hadn’t seen. She makes it impossible to want to leave.

Melissa stays in her parking spot until you disappear into the building, not before you glance once more at her and wave shyly. Her head rests against the steering wheel as she struggles to compose herself, before pulling out on the street.

You both fall asleep that night to dreams about the secret corner you’d found yourselves in, books stacked around while your eyes stayed on each other.

—☽—

There’s a certain pep in your step come Monday morning, but a small amount of dread knowing you’ll have to face Ava later. She knew better to keep her distance over the weekend, but though your annoyance with her was fading, it was definitely there. You push into the lounge, immediately gravitating towards the coffeemaker.

You enjoy the hum of the TV, Jim Gardener’s voice coming from the speakers as you focus on Melissa in your periphery. Clicking steps in the hallway stiffen your back, all eyes in the room shifting to you as your best friend, boss, and ditcher enters. The cocky smile on her face falls when you stand and leave the room without a word.

“Seriously? Still mad?” Ava asks with such a genuine tone that Gregory’s head drops into his hands.

Melissa speaks before Ava can even blink, feeling like she had to defend you after seeing how upset you’d been, “so selfish you couldn’t even give a heads up? Some best friend you are, ditching them.” Ava only responds by raising her hands in defeat, giving up on an argument with Melissa before it starts.

“You checking on that one or should I?” Mr. Johnson asks from the doorway where he’s collecting the trash, his eyes set on Melissa. His answer is just the second grade teacher pointing at herself in question, surprised that he would’ve thought of her to check on you. His face screws up, “duh? Who else?”

She listens. When Melissa reaches your classroom, quickly carried by fast and angry steps, she sees you at your whiteboard, writing the agenda and date on it. The unusually harsh strokes of your writing show her exactly what mood she’s walking into. She almost jumps when she knocks on the door and your head whips her way, hard face softening.

“Hey,” you breathe out, going back to writing the afternoon’s schedule.

“Hey. I just wanted to check on you,” she she says as she slides the orange marker down towards you.

“I’m fine, really. I’m mostly just pissed Ava left me like that and thinks it’s hilarious. You’d think I would be used to it by now, but apparently not,” you huff, “just like her mom always says, Ava’s gonna Ava.”

“How long you giving her the silent treatment?”

“Till she actually apologizes and doesn’t just assume it’s all good, it’s the only way. I’m not even that mad about it, if she wanted to leave she could’ve just said,” you shift your weight from foot to foot, “it’s the principle of it.”

Melissa glances over your face, grateful you don’t seem to notice, and she realizes it's less anger, more disappointment. It’s so starkly different from the smile that played on your lips and the gleam in your eyes just the other night. She so badly wants that back, she craves your smile.

It took three days for Ava to finally apologize, and she only does when she comes over to your apartment, no interest in letting the other hear her grovel. She hadn’t meant to make you upset, she was just trying to get you and Melissa alone, and so far, her efforts seemed to be working. She was diligent to not let out that it was a joint plan between her and Barbara, and that Melissa was getting played just as much as you.

—☽—

A snow storm Thursday night almost takes out your power, and the chill seeps through the brick walls, forcing you to bed early in a bundle of blankets. You wake up to your phone ringing at five in the morning, only a half hour before your alarm was to go off. Seeing Ava’s contact worried you immediately.

“What?” you say through a yawn, “are you okay?”

“Aw, you love me,” she jokes through her own large yawn.

“I do. Now, what do you want?”

“It’s a snow day, bitch. The roads aren’t too bad, but apparently the buses are fucked.”

You sigh with contentment, “snow day means I’m going back to bed.”

“Okay, lazy. I’ll see you tomorrow for wine night?”

You can barely answer through another yawn, “yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

It’s not until ten that you wake up again, sunlight reflecting off the fresh snow and making your room too bright to stay asleep any longer. The air in the room is too cold for your taste, leaving you to wrap your throw blanket around yourself as you trudge out to your kitchen for the promise of warm coffee. As coffee drips into the pot, the star-printed throw is replaced by your favorite grey sweatshirt, the faded university logo still maintaining a touch of the maroon and silver it once was.

The second cup of coffee tastes of cinnamon and cream, the warmth keeping your hands from stiffening under the cold of your building. No matter how much you turned up the heat, the draft made it obsolete. As you pour a third cup, clinging to the warmth it gave, you feel your phone buzz in your Abbott sweatpants.

From Melissa: How busy are you today?

To Melissa: on a snow day? not at all. why? 

From Melissa: I’ve got a surprise for you.

To Melissa: should i be worried?

From Melissa: Do you trust me?

To Melissa: you know i do

When she doesn’t answer, anticipation starts to take hold. It hits you as you nervously sip your coffee, you’re still in your pajamas and Melissa is coming. You tumble down to your room, switching the sweatpants for an old pair of jeans, the faded sweatshirt for a thick black sweater, fluffy socks into slippers. Part of you grapples if you should make coffee for the both of you, the other part tells you a fourth cup may give you a heart attack upon seeing Melissa, your heart would never be able to take it.

A quiet ping from your phone alerts you that Melissa is down in the lot as she waits for you. You don’t even take a moment to answer, just quickly throwing on your denim jacket before hurrying down the steps to the bottom floor. Peeking your head out, you see the only car with lights on, the familiar black car making you smile. The snow had slowed overnight, wisps still quickly sticking to your hair and clothes.

Melissa doesn’t notice your approach, not until you tap on her frosted window with your knuckles, making her jump. She was lost in her mind, thinking about how bad of an idea it was, startling quickly at your tap, but quickly soothed by your smile and little wave. Melissa steps out of the car, leaning against it to keep you from peeking in her window and seeing the passenger seat.

“You really shouldn’t’ve driven, what if the roads were nasty?” you say with concern, despite the fact that you couldn’t be happier with her presence.

“They weren’t, I got here just fine,” she says, placating the worry.

You can’t even hide the smile that shows itself, “what sort of surprise was worth the black ice?”

“There was no black ice,” she laughs, shifting under your gaze, “but I hope it’s a surprise you’ll like.” There’s an unusual nervousness in her, one that you can’t help but feel and want to soothe.

“If it’s from you, I definitely will.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Try me,” you cock your head to the side, a sly smirk on your face. Melissa ducks her face, concealing her blush. She opens the door, leaning in to grab the bag from the seat. A deep breath leaves her lungs as she composes herself before facing you. The paper bag is stretched out towards you, green eyes begging you to relieve her of this weight.

You try to be careful, not wanting the gentle snow to touch the contents. Peering up at Melissa, she urges you to open it. You reach in and feel something, a cloth covered board you think, until you feel what you think are pages. A book? No, three.

You pull back your hand, the books coming with it. A faded green cover with black serif text reads Frankenstein, the blue reads The Short-Stories of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley: A Complete Collection, and the final red one, Mathilda. The books you had fawned over a week ago were now in your hands, the very same you said you’d give your car for. No words form, only thick tears in your eyes that you pray don’t fall. They were the exact same books, the copies from the bar, and now they’re in your hands.

You can only look at the redhead, absolutely bewildered. She gives you a weak smile, having a hard time gauging your reaction and you slide the books back into the bag to protect them. There’s no warning, not verbal or even a glint in your eye, before you fling yourself onto her, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“Thank you, oh my fucking God, thank you, thank you, what the fuck?” your words fall out of your mouth, barely able to contain the delight running through your veins.

Melissa doesn’t answer right away, only wrapping her arms around you and basking in the feeling of you there. You smell like coffee and cinnamon, she wishes she could find out if your lips taste the same. Neither of you move, not wanting to be the one who breaks away first.

After a minute, your face lifts from her neck, but you don’t remove yourself from her arms. She meets your gaze, watching you watch her. Melissa is the most beautiful person you’ll ever meet, you’re sure of it. But right here, right now? She’d never been more so, nothing else compared to the snow stuck to her lashes, the pink of her cheeks from the chilled air, the lack of makeup across her skin allowing you to see all her freckles and the lines around her eyes.

“You got me the books,” it's a simple sentence, but there’s a weight to it that Melissa almost can’t handle.

She smiles so softly it makes you want to cry, “you love them, you wanted them.” The look in your eyes changes, and Melissa seems to notice. She finally speaks up, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is, at least I hope not,” you answer truthfully.

“Why that look on your face then?” Her lips look so soft, you have to tell her.

You swallow your pride, pursing your lips before telling her the thought that had been on your mind since you met her, “I really want to kiss you.”

It appears she feels the same, Melissa immediately leans into you, lips pressing to yours. You knew they’d be soft, and God were they. Her hands plant themselves on your hips while yours cup her neck, pulling her as close as you possibly can. Spinning suddenly, you find yourself pressed against her car, cold metal freezing you through your layers, but warm lips make the cold feel little. For someone so abrasive, Melissa was so soft, holding you like you were the most precious thing to her. Her tongue licked at your bottom lip, asking for entry. And who are you to deny her?

Her tongue traces yours, a groan comes from deep in your chest that only spurs her on further. She presses impossibly closer to you, hands sliding up to hold you at your ribs, pressing into your jacket in an attempt to get closer. Your blunt nails dig into her neck, not enough to hurt, just to feel more of her. All you’ve wanted since you met her was to be this close, and it felt like an unreachable dream until now.

Her lips pull away, only to be chased by yours. You press gentle, chaste kisses to her lips, and it only becomes more difficult as matching dopey grins grow on your faces. Her hand rises to your cheek, caressing the chilled skin that warms under her touch.

She barely hears your words over her rapidly beating heart, “you’re so pretty.”

“Haven’t seen yourself then, huh?” she jokes, pretending your statement didn’t make her feel like a giggly teenager.

“Funny, but I mean it. You’re so pretty,” your hand shifts around her cup her jaw, “I can’t believe you got those books for me. How?”

She smirks to herself, “I just asked nicely.”

“Nicely? Did you bat your lashes and give them that award-winning smile?” The sarcasm that should have been there sounds more like adoration, the lazy smile on your lips making them look even more kissable than they’d been before.

“Exactly, they just handed them right over,” she feels like a pile of mush with you looking at her like this.

The hand on her jaw pulls her in closer, “they’d be stupid not to.” There’s no chance to reply, just your lips pressing to hers again. It feels as easy as breathing with you, like she was supposed to be doing this the whole time. When you pull away, it’s just barely, a silent request in the way you stroke her cheek.

Reluctantly, she pulls away from you to take her keys out of the ignition and grabs her purse from the floor of the car. An arm wraps around hers as you lead her towards the door to your building, the other tightly holds the books against your chest. It was too soon to say it, but you knew that right here, right now, you were utterly in love with Melissa Schemmenti. The woman who probably threatened the employees at the Penman’s Alcove for the books when they said she couldn’t buy them, the one who listened for two hours as you spoke about authors and books she’d never cared about before.

She cared now. She cared because you did.

Melissa knew the moment you saw the books, that she would do whatever it takes to see that wonder on your face again. She thinks to herself that endeavor would be a good way to spend the rest of her life.

title is from a quote from mary shelley’s mathilda: “you are still, as you ever were, beyond beautiful expression.”

i chose the st. dominic for mel’s pendant bc hes typically worn by educators

feedback appreciated as always <3

[lipglossanon]

♔ 𝔉𝔦𝔳𝔢 ♔

• A Dozen Roses • Fairy Tale AU •

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dead dove, incest, father/daughter incest, possessiveness, kissing, groping, thigh riding

Dawn does not break. A summer storm overtakes the early morning sky and overshadows the sun with pounding rain that comes down in sheets as lightning forks in the distance. Your chamber maids dress you warmly for even inside a chill is persisting along the stone corridors. 

Your father is nowhere to be found. Off with his fellow knights on a hunt, waylaid by the weather. That’s what the stable hand tells you as he points out the empty stall where your father’s steed usually rests. You frown out across the wide terrace as the maids usher you back inside. 

The day passes slowly, your ladies trying to distract you with music and sewing. One even whispers to you about the most recent gossip floating amongst the gentry. That your father has already chosen you a suitor— someone he was to announce after his hunt. 

“Is this so?” You murmur quietly, eyes seeking the window and yet only seeing the storm. 

She nods, threading her needle, “Yes, Princess. But tis only a rumor, just another tale to spread for those with too little responsibility.”

You smile at her, “I suppose that’s true enough.”

The talk turns to other things, letting you fall back into your thoughts. The book containing your mother’s story lies tucked against your side. Your grand plan of speaking to the King this morn dissipates like mist in the light. The day drags along and after supper, you visit her portrait hoping to glean more insight into this ghost. 

Refreshing her wilted lilies, as you have countless times before, makes your heart race with longing. Magic is all well and good but it seems to only have a place for you in the shadows of your heritage. Gifting her a single red rose, you place the thorny stem in the middle of the lilies and take your leave. Your ladies-in-waiting walk with you back to your chambers, bowing and bidding you a goodnight as you part from them at the door.

Once you’re completely alone, you light a candle and read over the words and secrets left behind in the diary until they swim across the page. You hear loud movement coming from beyond the door, leading you to creep across the cold floor to press an ear to the wood. The deep voice of your father can be heard but you are unable to parse what is being spoken. 

When you’re sure the hall is empty once more, you climb back into bed, hand reaching for the book you set aside. Eyes gaze unseeing upon the leather cover. The King has known everything all of this time and yet kept his distance. It hurts you. Makes you seek him out now regardless of the late hour, book in hand as you enter his rooms uninvited. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He’s seated in front of the fire, dressed down for the night in a simple tunic and breeches. His hair and clothing are soaked from the storm still raging outside. You suddenly realize you’re in your nightgown and how improper it was to walk through the castle in such undress as well as to be standing in the King’s antechamber. 

“Tell you what?” He tilts his head, eyes dark and heavy as they drag down your immodest shift—fists clenching where they lay against his thigh, “tell my precious little princess she holds magic in her blood?”

“Yes,” your voice turns pleading, “why hide from me what is my right?”

He shakes his head, “Twould do no good,” standing, he walks over to you, water dripping from his hair to the straight line of his nose, “would you have had me toss you off to that forest witch to be raised?”

Chills race down your back as he brushes stray hairs away from your face, “You are my daughter, my property... my responsibility.”

“You never cared before,” words burst from your lips like overripe fruit. “You paid me no mind until this summer, Father.”

“Because you look like her,” he growls, eyes flashing in the low light, “you could be her.”

He grasps your upper arm and walks you over in front of the looking glass; his free hand reaches up to cup your chin roughly, forcing you to gaze at the mirror image. You clench your eyes shut and he chuckles, a low mean sound, against your back. 

“Look, my naive daughter,” his calloused hands pinch into the skin of your jaw and you meet his eyes in the reflection, “you have given me a most precious gift— a second chance with my dear beloved.”

A gasp spills from your lips as the King lets go of your arm to cup your mound through your thin nightgown. 

“Have you been good while I’ve been away, Princess?” He murmurs against your ear, fingers rubbing slowly against the heat gathering at the apex of your thighs. 

“Yes, Father,” your brows pinch together, body leaning into his touch. 

“Good girl,” his thumb rubs across your bottom lip. 

That hot shivery feeling you sometimes get overtakes you, eyes darting to the King’s mouth. A yearning cavern opens in your chest, a hollow echo of loneliness making your lips part. It’s the same feeling that you had when he took it upon himself to confirm your purity, his mouth hot and wet upon your cunt. 

“You should check, Father,” the damning words whispered as if that would soften the indecent request. 

He presses his thumb past your lips, pushing against your tongue as you suckle the digit. 

“I should,” he rumbles, gaze hot on your mouth as he turns your head to the side, “just to be sure your chastity is in place.”

A chaste kiss is dropped to your mouth, fleeting like the brush of a butterfly's wings. Whining, you tilt your head further, bodily asking for more. He presses another kiss against your lips, so different from Lord Winters. Your father claims your mouth for his own. He makes you sigh and gasp against his lips as he tastes you deeply, tongue stroking alongside your own. 

Your legs nearly give out and he wraps his broad arms around you, holding you to his firm chest as he kisses you heatedly. Head fuzzy, you sink against him, letting the King kiss you senseless. Pulling away, he shushes your whining before tugging you to the armchair in front of the fireplace. 

Once he is seated, he pulls you into his lap, indecently straddling one of his legs as your gown shifts leaving your bare cunt to rest on his trouser clad thigh. He pets your sides, a strange little smile hovering over his lips.  

“I never thought I would have this again,” he murmurs, “come, kiss me again, my sweet daughter.”

You’re much too eager and uncouth, but he takes it in stride; slowing you down, guiding your lips and tongue until you’re moving in sync with him. It’s addicting, like eating sun warm strawberries from the garden. Forbidden but so so sweet. The juice sticky and syrup thick, filling your mouth with decadence. 

His sword calloused hands grip your hips, guiding you into a rocking motion that makes you bleat and moan against his lips. A rare warm chuckle from him makes your mind buzz. You follow his motions until he’s able to squeeze and pet your hips as you rock against his thigh. The sharp bolts of pleasure make you leak until his trousers are soaked, sticking to the soft lips of your cunt. 

“Want me to teach you?” He whispers hotly in your ear, “teach you all the ways to feel good, my precious princess.”

“Please, Father,” you mewl quietly, kissing him needily.  

“I’ll show you,” he promises, voice dark as his eyes, hands grasping your gown to delve underneath, fingers skimming across your bare hips, “teach you like I did her—such gorgeous witches I’ve owned.”

Thoughts too hazy to pay attention, you sigh and gasp when his hands drift under your nightgown to grasp your breasts, squeezing the soft fat with a groan. The King’s mouth drifts along your neck, lips soft as he kisses the sensitive skin. Chills race down your body, your mind a haze of wanton need. He kisses your breasts through the nightgown as he pinches your nipples. 

Whimpering at him, you tangle your fingers in his still damp hair. Your body is hurtling to that peak that whites out your thoughts, pleasure curling up like a sated cat in your stomach. The rough fabric of his trousers rub against your soft, wet heat as you rut back and forth on his thigh, making you moan softly. 

“My sweet witch,” he pulls away to gaze up at you in satisfaction, “my beloved made whole again.”

Bringing your face closer, he kisses you far sweeter than before. This surprising show of tender affection brings you to your climax. Your voice stutters out, a broken cry lost in his wet kisses. The fire in the hearth roars to life like dragon’s breath as glasses on the mantle shatter only to land as glittering diamonds on the floor. 

Your father chuckles warmly and it sends a frisson of heat pulsing at the apex of your thighs. 

“Such a gift, my precious princess,” he brushes his thumb across your swollen bottom lip.  

The expulsion of magic makes you tired. The King keeps you on his thigh, the rough material of his breeches bringing you to climax again and again as he kisses the moans from your mouth. Never pushing it further, he makes a promise to show you everything with each time you clench on nothing and cum on his lap. 

It’s cock crow when you finally pull away from your father’s embrace. Lips and cunt swollen from his rough touch and yet your body and heart ache for more. 

“I shall escort you to your room,” he helps you stand on trembling legs, wrapping one of his heavy riding cloaks around your body—his smoky scent surrounding you. “I’ll make sure you have the morning to yourself for resting.”

You hum, exhausted in more ways than one, and easily follow the King back to your room. As he tucks you into bed, you pout and grasp his shirt, seeking another kiss before you fall into slumber. 

“Sleep well, beloved,” he murmurs, kissing your temple before pulling away. 

Although you wouldn’t realize until too late, it’s the end of your old life. 

[comicwritesstuff]

Vanessa Shelly/Afton x Fem!Reader

Reader is drunk and breaks into Freddys, Vanessa lets them off with a warning, but of course we have to go back and see the hot officer ;) 2k+ words SMUT BTW

18+ WARNINGSSS

Warnings: Dom!Vanessa, Sub!reader, lots of degrading, angry Vanessa, punishment sorta, a little bdsm, alcohol, fingering, getting eaten out and cursing.

Being 25 means having mid life crisis almost every day. And when your surprisingly fit, like to drink and really fucking stupid then the best thing to do is break into, and explore abandoned buildings. So that's what I’m doing. After drinking a whole bottle of wine and driving around like the responsible adult I am, I stumble upon a magnificent building. 

“Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria”, I snicker at the name and park super well (on the curb). I wattle my drunk ass around the building looking for a quick way in, I see a window and try to open it, after a couple minutes it finally budges, I open it and climb inside, falling on the dust filled floor. I giggle a bit then stand back up, just my luck I see a flashlight on the ground so I pick it up, smacking it a bit before it turns back on. Fun. I walk around, shining the flashlight at the various cobweb filled objects. I was to preoccupied on the spider crawling across the floor to hear the police officer that just walked into the building, I sprint out of the room that the spider was in, I fucking hate spiders. Apparently I caught the officer's attention after I sprinted across the room she was in, somehow not seeing her until she shouted at me. “Hey! Stop you're trespassing!” I don’t know what made me run faster, the thought of the spider, or the officer. A bit of both.

I run through the halls pausing looking around for somewhere to go, I see the doors to the kitchen so I slam the doors open, and shriek. There was a giant ass chicken, and I didn’t know if I was seeing it cause I was drunk but I really wasn’t in the mood to risk it. “AH WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT” Unforunately the officer was now right behind me, I didn’t realize that so when I went to run away again, she grabbed me. Ah shit. What a great night. 

“Why do you care about me, not the big ass chicken in the kitchen? Oh hey that rhymes.” I laughed at my joke, while the cop raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you drunk?” I look at the officer a little clearer, damn she's hot. “No I’m y/n, nice to meet you.” She stares at me for a second then looks away, trying not to laugh at me, she pulls me back up and holds tightly onto my arm while dragging me out of the building. I should really be putting more thought into the giant duck I just saw but all I can think about is the really pretty police woman holding my arm. 

It’s not until we get outside that I remember I'm really not in a good position to get arrested right now, so maybe I should stop admiring the police officer and make a run for it, while my drunk self tries to make up a plan of escape, I glance at her once more. Yeah, I'm gonna stay with her. She opens the side door to her cop car, motioning for me to sit in the car. She still holds the door open, and sighs. “Look, I can tell you weren’t really trying to start anything bad, you're just insanely drunk. So, I’ll let you off with a warning. If I ever see you come back here, drunk or not, I won’t hesitate to arrest your ass for trespassing, or a worse punishment.” I stare at her blankly, it takes me a couple seconds to process what she said. “So you're not arresting me?” She pinches the bridge of her nose before closing the door without saying anything. She walks around and gets in the front starting to drive, “Do you know your address.” I grin and nod, telling her my address. I started laughing a little bit, for no reason I just felt like laughing. I look back up at her and see her looking at me in the rearview mirror. She's got that look like she’s trying not to laugh at me but it's clearly not working. 

“So officer what's your name?” “Vanessa.” “Thas a really prettttty name.” I say slurring my words and giggling more. She glances at me again through the mirror, not saying anything, just grinning. “So how much did you drink exactly?” How much did I drink? I don’t remember so I answer the best I can. “Yes.” I hear her sigh while I’m looking at the raindrops on the window. “Yes? That's your best answer for how much you drank? Jesus you’re really drunk.” I whip my head around frustrated. “How many times do I need to tell you? I’m y/n not these names you keep calling me” I say in an angry tone. I see her bite her lip, grinning even more, clearly trying with all her might not to laugh at me. She composes herself before glaring at me through the mirror. “Don’t use that tone with me, I can still arrest you.” That was hot anyways, oh hey that's my house. “How’d you know my address?” I am baffled as she gets out of the car without answering me. She pulls me out of her cop car dragging me to my doorstep. “Open the door.” She tells me sternly, so I open it quickly. She follows me inside my house, looking around and taking the last bottle of wine I have left without me noticing. I see my couch and go to sit down then I decide to just flop down, I immediately fall asleep. Vanessa hears the plop sound of me passing out on my couch and smirks, walking over she finds a blanket, laying it over me. She does one last search for any more alcohol then finally leaves. 

I wake up with the worst headache ever, I stumble into my kitchen quickly chugging like 3 glasses of water before I notice the note on the counter. “No more drinking, don’t go back to Freddy’s. I drove your car back to your house. I took the rest of your alcohol and left your keys on the counter, take care. -Officer Vanessa”. Oh so that wasn’t some weird porno dream without the porn part about a cop. Staring at the note I decide to do the sensible thing that any person would do, go back to Freddy’s, even with a bad headache. Since she took my alcohol I'm going sober, and with the one brain cell I have sober I grab a flashlight this time. I also grab a hammer (for some reason??). I grab the keys and hop into my car, then I see another note there. “Don’t do it.” That's all the note said, she knew me for an hour and she already knows what i’m planning on doing, well she is a cop. I drove to Freddys, there isn’t a cop car, she probably forgot about me. 

I park in the front and go up to the building. It would be so cool to get on the roof. And so that's what I do, with my flashlight in my bra and the hammer in my mouth so I can climb easier. It was surprisingly easy to get up there. So I sit on the edge of it, swinging my feet waiting patiently for Vanessa to show up. It actually takes a lot longer than I wanted it to, I’m laying on the edge now, on my back staring at the sky. I only sit up once I hear the sound of tires pulling into the parking lot. Oh shit, she’s here. Well, I mean I wanted her to show up, so what did I expect? Vanessa slams her car door shut, and I mean slam, like she is pissed and it's obvious. She walks underneath where I’m sitting, looking up at me. “Get. The. Fuck. Down.” My face turns pale, ohh im fucked, and turned on. “Make me.” She cocks her head, before angrily smirking and with little to no effort, climbing to the top, I stare at her dumbfounded. She walks up to me, pulling out her gun pressing it into my stomach, hard. With her other hand she grabs the collar of my shirt. She pulls me off the edge, I gasp and stumble a bit, I didn’t really expect her to be THIS aggressive. “Climb down, if you run, I will shoot you.” I climbed down and waited at the bottom, I wasn’t in the mood to be shot. Once Vanessa got down she pressed the gun against my hip, standing behind me, she wrapped her other hand around the back of my neck, digging her nails into me. I whimper feeling her nails in my skin, she smirks as I do so. Walking me to her car, she slams me against the car, knocking the breath out of me, she handcuffs me before shoving me into the front seat. 

That's odd, I thought criminals sat in the back. Vanessa gets in the driver's seat, slamming the door shut again, but not driving. Her knuckles are turning white from how hard she's grabbing the steering wheel. “Why are you so upset? I didn’t do anything.” I say not looking at her, honestly a little scared. “One because I told you to do one simple fucking thing, and you didn’t listen did you?” I don't say anything. “That's right, and two you don’t know how dangerous that place is, I was trying to protect you and you have to come back out here like the brat you fucking are.” I gulp, my heart racing. To be honest I'm hella ashamed at how wet I am just from her being mean to me. I can feel her staring dead at me, but all of a sudden I just can’t bring myself to look at her. I'm praying that my face isn’t as red as I think it is. “Hah, are you really turned on by this?” She teases, well shit, I guess I am that red. “No! I'm not I..I swear.” The most obvious lie I think I’ve said. “Sure.” She says, finally starting to drive. It’s completely quiet in the car. Suddenly I feel Vanessa move her hand to my thigh and move it painfully slowly towards my core. I freeze up, I can instantly feel me soaking through my underwear. Vanessa moves her hand up sliding it into my pants and over my panties. She teasingly only puts one finger on my clit, before slowly starting to put pressure on it. “You should have stayed home brat.” She starts rubbing my clit with the same annoyingly soft pressure as before, I let out a soft whimper, I struggle a bit in the handcuffs, fuck, I can’t even move my arms since they are behind my fucking back. “But you're such an attention whore, huh?” She increases the pressure only a bit, rubbing at the same agonizing pace. I glance at her, she hasn’t taken her eyes off the road once, and she’s purposefully driving slow. 

She keeps that same pace for a couple minutes, before I can’t take it anymore. “Vanessa…please..” I say whiningly. “Not so cocky anymore? To busy wanting me to fuck you?” My cheeks heat up with embarrassment. To my surprise she slides her fingers past my panties, shoving two fingers inside me, causing me to buck my hips, and moan. “Look at you, so desperate for me like the little slut you are.” She curls her fingers, thrusting them rapidly, the only sounds in the car are my moans and whimpers that are embarrassingly loud. “I love all the pretty little sounds you're making for me baby, being such a good bitch.” Arching my back, I feel my climax already building up. “Nessa, I…I’m gonna cum..” I mutter, barely able to say anything before she swiftly pulls her fingers out of my pants, licking them clean and putting her hand back on the steering wheel. There's nothing I can do except sit there, and wait for her to do something again, I can’t move my hands, and rubbing my legs together isn’t enough friction, besides if I tried that I’m sure she’d shut it down real quick. Her gaze stays on the road, not bothering to look at me once, even when we stop. From Freddy’s it takes about 20 minutes to get to my house, so I had to wait 5 more minutes before we pulled into my driveway. I couldn’t tell if she was purposefully doing things slowly, or if it felt slow because of how desperately i wanted her to fuck me. Either way, once she finally got to my side of the car she opened my door and grabbed the collar of my shirt again, lifting me out of the car then pulling me to the door. She reaches into my pants pocket grabbing my key and unlocking the door, after we both get inside, Vanessa immediately pulls me into a kiss, her lips slamming onto mine with an unholy amount of lust. 

God, all I wanted was to wrap my arms around her neck, anything to deepen the kiss but the handcuffs stayed on, she pulled me to my bedroom, how did she know where it was? I don't know but frankly, I don’t care right now. Vanessa throws me on my bed, crawling on top of me. She starts leaving hickeys all over my jaw, and my neck. “I want people to know how much of a slut you are, baby.” Chills go down my back as she slowly traces her fingers down to my pants, before I lift my hips so she can slide them off. She starts leaving kisses on my inner thigh before she uses her teeth to pull my underwear down to my thighs, using her hands to get them off the rest of the way. “Be a good whore and keep your legs spread wide for me, can you do that baby?” I whine, nodding. “Yes Nessie”.

“Good girl.” She says before she quickly starts licking and sucking on my clit. At first not too fast, and Vanessa was planning on going slowly before she got a taste, then even she couldn’t resist it. Picking up the pace, she keeps sucking on my clit before curling two fingers inside my folds. How fast she's going catches me off guard, I arch my back, moaning loudly, I bite my lip trying not to be as loud as I was, not wanting anyone to hear us. As I become more quiet, Vanessa slows down. “Uh uh baby, I want to hear all the sounds you're making for me, or I'm not gonna let you cum again.” I whimper in protest but nod anyway as she now speeds up even more. She shoves another finger inside my tight pussy, curling them and hitting my sweet spot perfectly every time, and I listen to what she says and let out all the moans and whimpers I can, not caring how loud I'm being. “Fuck, V-vanessa Im cumming” “No your not. Not until I say.” She thrusts her fingers even harder and faster than before, I can barely hold it. “Fuck please Vanessa!” I shout at her in desperation, she doesn’t say anything for a couple seconds, the pain of holding it back getting to me as a few tears run down my cheeks. “Cum for me, my little slut.” And with one more curl of her fingers, I come harder than I have before, she lets me ride out the orgasm a little bit before licking my cunt clean. 

“You did so good for me, love.” She leans up, kissing me softly and wiping the few tears from my face. “Can you sit up for me baby so I can uncuff you?” I listen to her, already exhausted from the little she’s done to me, to be far I haven’t even had sex in a couple of years, let alone an orgasm that hard. After she uncuffs me, she grabs my blanket, covering the both of us as I cuddle into her chest, quickly falling asleep. 

THANKS FOR READING HOPE U LIKED IT :)

[captainhotch]

This Love | Roy Kent

note; random ted lasso imagine for the girlies who are in love with roy kent (me). not proof read as per usual

masterlist

There was no such thing as right person wrong time, you reminded yourself for the twentieth time in the past two months as you turned off your tv— absolutely tired of seeing your ex boyfriend blasted all over the football channels.

You had broken up about mid way threw his last season— well, he had broken up with you. You had been together for about a year and a half. A beautiful, really happy year and a half. Sure the man was an absolute grump, preferring more to groan than talk half the time, but he had the largest heart of any person you had ever met. His love was so pure and so kind.

The breakup was a bit of a blindside. He had been playing poorly, slowing down as a consequence of his age catching up. He was making mistakes. And Roy Kent did not make mistakes. So he did what only made sense to him in that moment and cut out all distractions. And you, well you were the biggest distraction of them all.

So you packed all of his things in a cardboard box and marched through the halls of the Richmond FC clubhouse, heals echoing across the lithium floor. Your head was high but your heart was in your stomach as you willed the tears to wait until you were safely back behind the tinted windows of your car.

You smiled at Higgins as you passed him outside of the locker room doors, receiving a sheepish wave back. You didn’t realize it at the time, but your smile paired with the dead look in your eye was absolutely terrifying. Next thing you knew you were dropping the box down on the floor in front of him, whipping your hair over your shoulder, and walking away with a sway of your hips that you know had his eyes glued to your admittedly amazing ass.

It was, of course, an act, cause there you were two months and a retirement later, heart still aching every time you saw the unfortunately handsome man across your screen.

Apparently Roy Kent did, in fact, make mistakes. Maybe not on the pitch, but literally everywhere else. Going home to a bed that didn’t have you in it? A mistake. Not having you by his side through the most difficult decision of his life? A mistake. Watching as you laughed along with Jamie’s flirting across the bar? A horrible, terrible fucking mistake.

Roy Kent was an angry man, but my god did he think he was going to explode in that moment. He wouldn’t be surprised if steam was comically coming out of his ears. He could only be brought to tear his eyes from you at the sound of the seat beside him being pulled out, and an insufferable American accent ordering a whiskey from the bar tender.

“You know Roy— you’re about as subtle as a hot pink convertible driving through a south Georgia suburb.” Ted nodded, eyes following Roy’s to you standing beside a smirking Jamie. “You know you breaking up with her hurt more than my own divorce.”

“Fuck off.” Roy muttered, throwing back the rest of his own whiskey.

“I’m serious man. Y’all two love each other— and no amount of pretending like your don’t will change that. That right there,” he paused, pointing to you—“that is a mighty fine woman. One who loves you. You don’t let something like that slip away if you can help it. Take it from me.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh at Jamie’s jokes. It was a good distraction from being in the same room as Roy for the first time since you had dropped off your stuff. Still you could feel him watching you without even glancing in his direction, like he’d never left. You had to be begged by Keeley to even show face, your dear friend insisting that everyone missed you loads. You had a feeling that she was just testing her theory of the two of you not being able to stay away from each other once you took away the distance.

The back of your neck burned, the same way it would when he’d kiss it in passing. Your stomach, once filled with butterflies, was now heavy with lead. You knew Jamie was only speaking with you to piss Roy off. You didn’t care. Or maybe you did, and that’s why you let it keep going.

You watched with confusion as Jamie’s eyes grew wide peering over your shoulder, “I’ve got to run now love.” He muttered, his thick accent mixed with both of your alcohol intake leaving you in confusion.

You could feel that burning feeling getting worse, palms slicking with nervous sweat. You turned around to to met with a wide chest clad in all black, tipping your head back your eyes danced over a familiar bearded chin up to a set of dark eyes that set you on fire. The familiar, gruff man grabbed your wrist, taking your drink and throwing it back himself before dragging you out to the porch.

Your feet were moving faster than your brain, still struggling to process if this was that recurring dirty dream you kept having, or a much more frightening reality. The cold nipping at your bare arms answered that one quickly— you were always on a beach in that dream.

Before you know it Roy had your back against the railing of a porch, body warmed from where it was trapped against his own. He brought his head down against yours, eyes screwed shut like he was in physical pain. You brought your hands against his chest, fists closed tightly around the material of his overpriced black suit jacket. He smelled familiar, like the cologne you had gotten him for his birthday.

“I’m such a fucking prick.” He muttered against your hair, bringing his hand to cradle the back of your head.

“Damn right.” You responded through a teary laugh against the side of his neck. “Proper fucking idiot you are.”

He let out a gruff laugh, hands coming up to cradle your face— pulling you back gently so he could look at you. His eyes were soft, that special look that he saved just for you painted across his face. You loved him so much that it physically hurt. Even after he took a knife and stabbed you in the chest.

Right person wrong time didn’t exist, because even through everything, Roy never stopped being your right person.

“I will spend every last day of my fucking life making this up to you. If you’ll have me back.” He muttered, eyes scanning your face with such sincere regret you might’ve fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up.

Maybe it was stupid to take him back, but you hadn’t realized until that very moment that Roy Kent owned a very large piece of you. And standing there in his arms, you had finally gotten it back.