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queensunshinee · 2 months ago

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Wreck my plans || Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+) Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex, fingering), drinking, family drama, very slow burn, maybe too slow, I really don't know what's going on here

Word Count: 8.5k

Wreck my plans

Parties were never your thing. Parties are Jenny's thing. But she went away for the weekend with two friends from Harvard and didn’t even think to invite you. So Jenny can go to hell. And you can go to the party.

Luke Thompson's house is huge, and it doesn’t surprise you since you've spent two evenings a week here over the past few months trying to teach him algebra and literature. He had to repeat senior year after his complete failure last year. The party was in celebration of him finally getting his diploma and being accepted to a local college nearby.

"Little (Y/L/N)!" he shouted, spreading his arms wide, inviting you for a hug. "The only reason I managed to finish school," he added, yelling, making you roll your eyes. "You’re the only reason you managed to finish school, Luke," you said, taking a step back. "To be honest, I didn’t think you’d come," he looked around, causing you to do the same and start recognizing familiar faces from your grade and the one above you (Jenny’s). "I've never seen you at a party before." "I've been to parties. we just don’t hang out with the same people," you said as the two of you moved towards the kitchen so you could grab a drink.

The conversation continued for a few more minutes, but your attention drifted to the blond guy in the kitchen- Art Donaldson. Dressed in a pink button-down shirt and jeans, holding a red cup just like the one Luke put in your hand, drinking the same warm beer you're drinking. You hadn’t thought about him for almost a year. Your gaze wandered from him to the living room, where you saw Dave flirting with someone you couldn’t identify, and you found yourself rolling your eyes at the scene. You tried to listen to Luke for a few more moments because it felt like the polite thing to do, but you lost interest, and, like a magnet, your eyes were drawn back to Art Donaldson, who was busy looking you over from head to toe. You wonder if it made you blush or if it's just the cheap alcohol. You left the kitchen with a certain sense of saturation, looking for people you actually enjoyed being around more than Luke, who, as nice as he was, was too sociable for your taste. Tried too hard. You also try hard, mostly to stay out of everyone’s way.

You ended the evening with Chloe and Ron- ironically, friends of Jenny's, since Lia refused to come. They asked about Jenny and told you about their college experiences. Ron finished his first year at Yale, and Chloe went to a local college not far from here. Maybe it’s time to go home, as you feel like you’re suffocating and the place is closing in on you. The thought of staying close, like Chloe, to this suburb made your stomach turn. Chloe loved it, though. She didn’t see anything wrong with it. She planned her life right here. Just like this.

"Can I sit?" A familiar voice stood above you as you stared at Luke’s pool. A few people were in the far corner of it, but otherwise, the yard was empty. You shrugged without saying anything as Art sat down. He took off his shoes and folded up his jeans a bit, dipping his feet into the pool- something you hadn’t even thought to do. You looked at him for a moment as he took another sip from the drink in his hand. He’s probably the most handsome guy you know- a childish thought that’s crossed your mind since you were young, since you remember him. Blond with eyes that could make stars feel embarrassed with how they shine. There’s nothing ordinary about him. He’s exceptional. You don’t think there’s any girl your age who’s known him and hasn’t had a crush on him, at least for a moment.

"Congratulations on finishing school. I heard you’re the reason Luke can celebrate," he said casually, looking at you and causing you to turn your gaze back to the pool in a split second. "He really needs to stop telling people that," you replied, hearing him chuckle. "How was your first year in college? Stanford, right?" you asked, trying to shift the focus from yourself to him. "Yeah, tennis, you know. It’s nice. I’m supposed to choose a major next semester. My mom wants me to pick business management. I’m considering sports management," he said offhandedly, as if it weren’t too personal. As if this wasn’t the longest conversation you’d had since kindergarten. "Then you have to choose sports, of course," you said quickly. "Sorry, it’s none of my business," you added just as fast, realizing you’d stepped into his complicated relationship with his mom. "If only it were that easy, huh?" he chuckled. "To choose what I want," he added.

At that moment, Art Donaldson had no idea that what he was saying touched the deepest parts of your heart, nearly crushing it. Stroking an open wound without knowing the area was sensitive. Jenny decided at the last moment that she didn’t want to study at Yale and preferred Harvard, which meant financially you couldn’t study out of state. It would just be too much. And it surprised no one that you were the one who had to give up your dream. It surprised no one, because Jenny was the first to decide, and you received the scraps of something that might have been hers. Like wearing an old shirt, she no longer wanted. It’s never the other way around.

"Aren’t you planning to go pro?" you asked after a few seconds, trying to shake off the emotions flooding you. "I’m not sure yet, my mom really wants me to finish my degree," he explained, taking another sip. "Patrick’s really suffering on his tour. don’t tell him I told you that." He added information you hadn’t asked for. As if you were in daily contact with Patrick Zweig. As if you’d ever exchanged a word with him. You only know Jenny slept with him a few times, but it’s not something you two talk about, so whatever. "I’m going to Wesleyan," you said suddenly and looked at him; his gaze was already on you. "Damn," he smiled a half-smile, and maybe it was the first time you’d felt a certain pride since you applied there. "Jenny went to Harvard, so it’s complicated for both of us to study out of state, you know how it is," you felt the need to explain the situation, even though he hadn’t asked, and he certainly didn’t know how it is. "It’s a good school tho, I’m glad I got in," you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince, but he furrowed his brows as if he didn’t believe it, as if he had something to say about it. But he kept it to himself, and you appreciated that.

"I have to say, distancing myself from Jenny (Y/L/N) was one of the best things that’s happened to me since I left," everyone knew about Art and Jenny's relationship. They couldn’t stand each other. They competed in every possible subject. From student council to tennis. You don’t think Jenny even likes tennis. She just likes the first place. And without realizing it, you laughed, which a good sister shouldn’t do, but you felt it too. Distancing yourself from Jenny was a relief. The difference is that you’re not allowed to say that out loud, and Art Donaldson doesn’t really care. He doesn’t need to be at family dinners during holidays.

You looked at him for another second and thought this could be a good moment to kiss him. It was as if he hadn’t taken his eyes off you for a second since he sat down. You could lean in a little and press your lips to his. It’s not like you’d see him much again. You wouldn’t see him at all and in six weeks, you will move into the dorms in college. and in few years, maybe after school, he’d probably be a professional tennis player or a lawyer or the president. You think you can picture him as the president. You'd vote for him. "Well, it was nice seeing you, (Y/N)," he smiled another one of his captivating smiles. "Talk to me if you ever find yourself in California," he gave a small nod, grabbed his shoes, and walked away. Maybe one day you’ll manage to actually do something you really want to do. . . . You regretted what you did about three minutes after you politely turned down the full scholarship to Wesleyan. and accepted what they offered you at Stanford. But in your defense, it was late at night, you’d just come back from Luke’s party very tipsy, and you had no real intention of talking to Art when you got to California. You’d never seen your parents so angry. Your mom cried. Your dad said you were inconsiderate. Jenny sat on the couch, watching you with a raised eyebrow. They said they wouldn’t pay for anything, that if you made this decision, you’d have to deal with the consequences. The scholarship covered your tuition, but for housing and books, you’d have to use your savings. Two jobs you picked up over the summer and a part-time job you’d had for three years of babysitting. They didn’t speak to you for weeks. From the moment you told them, all communication between you went through Jenny.

"Tell her dinner’s ready," "Tell her to go down and buy eggs," "Tell her Uncle Barry’s coming over tonight, to act like she still cares about this family."

"They'll come around," Jenny mumbled when she climbed into your bed one of those warm August nights. "I don’t know," you answered with your eyes closed, exhausted from the day at work and the hostility you returned to at home. "I know," she concluded. In the morning, you woke up alone.

You think they’ll never forgive you. Maybe you’ll never forgive them. But you don’t know. . . . The empty bed in your dorm was beneath the window. You didn’t complain for a moment because everything could have been much worse. Jenny bought you the flight ticket to California for your birthday. You cried. You remembered that small moment when Art said he was glad to be away from her and you giggled, not defending your sister. She’s not to blame for being born first. She’s not to blame for needing more attention. Her intentions are good. That should be the only thing that matters.

You only met Billie in the evening when she came back from what she described as a date. She spoke about 50 words a minute, so it was hard to follow. She asked why you came a week late, you wanted to say that you were on time and she came early, but all you managed to get out was "work." It wasn’t a lie. You worked at a camp and an ice cream parlor all summer, trying to save as much as you could because you didn’t know how long it would take to find a job near the university. Turns out, very quickly. The diner across from the university was looking for waiters, and you showed up without experience but with a convincing smile and some recommendations from previous employers, as if anyone cared that you were great with kids. Three shifts a week, and the savings would help you keep your head above water. That’s all you need.

A week after you arrived at the dorms, Billie and Summer, your roommates, forced you to go with them to a party. And it wasn’t too hard to convince you because you weren’t at home. And sometimes, you need to remind yourself that you at home isn’t the same you who’s at Stanford. Here, no one knows you or Jenny. No one expects anything from you, no one will call you "Little (Y/L/N)." Here, you are whoever you choose to be. And that’s enough. Enough to wear almost burgundy lipstick and a tight dress, but still sneakers. After all, something of you stays the same.

Someone named Dean hit on you most of the night, and Billie told him you had a boyfriend. "Babe, anyone but Dean. I’ve been here two weeks, and he’s slept with the entire building already," she whispered in your ear, and you laughed. Someone else hit on you during the night, but you didn’t remember his name. When you lay in bed, you tried calling Jenny to tell her about your night, but she didn’t answer. And maybe that’s okay. . . . The first time you saw Art at Stanford, he was the one who actually saw you. "(Y/n)?" He lifted his sunglasses to his hair. He wore a Stanford T-shirt and pants that made you wonder if they were also Stanford coded. He had a racket bag over his shoulder. He looked confused. "Hey," you didn’t know what to say as you leaned against the only free tree you could find and tried to read one of the books from your syllabus, preparing for your first class. "Hey?" He almost chuckled as he sat down next to you, not taking his eyes off you. Like you’d disappear the second he blinked. He didn’t seem disappointed by your presence. "Shit, I was joking about California," he looked amused, still studying you. He took the book you were reading, like it was his, ran a hand over the cover. Like he knew everything he needed to know about the course just by looking at it. "Stanford was on my list, and it just felt more right," you tried to justify, to explain that it wasn’t because of him. He didn’t think it was because of him tho, not really. "How did they take it?" he asked, probably remembering details from your conversation at the party. "I don’t know, because they’re not talking to me," you said it in the same casual tone, like it didn’t bother you. "Damn," he muttered, "that bad?" he asked. "It’s whatever," you shrugged. "I’ve got to get to class, but I’ll see you around, yeah?" He stood up and walked away. You didn’t know if you’d actually see him around again, but the interaction had been nice. You think that maybe Art Donaldson won’t judge you. And that’s an interesting thought. . . . The next time you see him, you're in the middle of a shift, wearing a ridiculous apron and a ponytail that makes your hair look greasy. Needless to say, you’re embarrassed, but he doesn’t act like it’s a big deal. He says hello, which is surprising because he’s with friends, and you look, well…ridiculous. You say hello back, because you’re polite, and it’s the right thing to do. They sit down at one of the tables, and you hear his voice from a distance saying, “I know her from back home.” You think it’s a half-accurate description, because you don’t really know each other- not like he knows Patrick Zweig or Luke. Not like he knows Jenny. You also think the girl sitting next to him is very pretty. Pretty enough to hate her, but nice enough not to.

Casually, before they leave the diner, Art asks if you're going to a party someone in his dorm is throwing. You shrug in response because you hadn’t heard about it until now. “It’ll be fun, you should come,” he calls out, mentioning the building he lives in before he leaves with his friends. He didn’t have to invite you. He doesn’t have to invite you to places. You’re not his responsibility. You don’t want him to think you are. You don’t know if you’ll go. . . . When you received the email from the registrar notifying you that your account had already been paid and that there was no need for the duplicate payment you’d tried to make, you found yourself confused. When you realized your parents had paid the bill despite saying they wouldn’t, you ended up crying for two hours. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. They haven’t spoken to you in almost three months. They let you stew in guilt but are willing to pay your bills? It’s ridiculous. None of them answered when you tried to call to say thank you. You cried for another hour. 'Busy. Do you need anything?' -Jenny-

You think you need a hug. But that feels childish, so you send her an orange heart emoji. . . . You go to the party Art invited you to with Billie and Summer because, why not? You don’t mention that you got an invitation, just casually say you heard there’s a party and that it might be fun to check it out.

You decide to put on the dark lipstick again, you liked how it looked last time, and honestly, the feedback was great. This time, you stick with a thin shirt, ripped tights, and shorts- keeping it low-effort was part of the actual effort. You think it’s silly. But you look cute, so fuck it.

Art spots you before you notice him again. He comes up to you in the middle of a conversation, gently swiping the beer bottle from your hand, making you look at him as he takes a sip and hands it back. “You’re the hot guy from the posters,” Billie says shamelessly, looking straight at him. “Art,” he chuckles, introducing himself, making you roll your eyes. “Mind if I steal her for a bit?” He asks permission, which is ridiculous and funny, making you feel embarrassed as he hands you back the beer and leads you to another corner of the apartment by your other hand.

“Hey,” he says, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “Hey,” you reply with staged nonchalance. “You look good,” you add, because it’s true. The few times you’d seen him on campus, he was in Stanford sports gear. Seeing him again in a button-down and jeans felt like a privilege. “That’s what I’ve heard,” he responds, referencing Billie’s comment from a few minutes ago, taking the beer from you again. Maybe it’s over the top, sharing the same bottle. It’s relatively intimate for two people who don’t actually know each other.

One of his friends comes over and starts talking to Art about tennis, his gaze lingering on you. You wonder if Art realizes he’s standing closer to you in a slightly possessive way. That his hand is lightly brushing yours, that he keeps taking the bottle from you to drink from it, openly displaying that sense of intimacy.

“Do you want to get out of here?” You’re not sure where the courage to ask came from. Maybe it’s the tequila shots you took with Billie and Summer before heading out to the party. Maybe it’s the joint you passed between each other. But Art looks amused as he nods. You catch Summer out of the corner of your eye, giving you a thumbs-up and making exaggerated kissy faces. If Art saw her doing it, he didn’t say anything. The contrast between the noise in the building and the quiet outside surprises you. The silence between you wasn’t awkward, but you hoped he’d say something by now. He seemed to be enjoying himself too much to talk. “Want to head to the lake?” he suddenly asked, though you were already walking that way. You hadn’t actually been there yet, but you didn’t want to reveal that you didn’t know the area that well.

“Hey, give me your phone,” you said, stopping in your tracks. He stopped too, raising an eyebrow as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “So bossy,” he muttered with his signature smirk, but you entered your number and sent yourself a flower emoji so you could save his number later. When you reached the lake, it almost took your breath away. It looked like something out of a movie. You know it sounds like a cliché, but it really was like that- like an old movie, but not too old. The moon reflected off the lake, and a few people were sitting on the grass nearby. You sat on a table instead of the bench next to it. Art raised an eyebrow at the choice but shook his head like you’d done something funny.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, looking at you as if confessing a secret. “I’m glad I’m here, too.” You knew that’s not what he wanted to hear, but he laughed anyway. He sat on the bench below you, between your legs. You felt as if you had some kind of power. Your hand automatically moved through his curls. You thought about apologizing but decided not to. “How are you?” he asked. “I’m okay, I think. How are you?” you tossed the question back at him. “Seriously, how are you?” His fingers brushed over yours, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “With your parents and everything?” he added. “I’m fine,” you replied. You didn’t want to talk about it, and he didn’t push as much as you expected. His hand squeezed yours for a moment, as if he had more to say. Instead, he nodded and stood up, starting to walk with you just behind him.

You're walking alongside the lake, wondering if this path has an end, or if you even want it to. You think you might feel those butterflies in your stomach. "Do you know my first memory of you?" he asks suddenly, and you’re surprised. Part of you doesn’t want to know. It’s probably related to Jenny. Art has so many memories of Jenny, and they’re all negative. Deep down, you hope he doesn't remember you as this girl being attached at her hip. "The day after my dad's funeral, you gave me a daisy you picked from someone’s garden." He chuckles, but it sounds bitter. You don’t remember this. You do remember, though, that for years, until you both drifted and each found your own group of friends—he called you "Daisy." You never knew why. "Oh." You don’t know what to say, so that’s what comes out a bit pathetic. "I didn’t even know it was a daisy, if the story details matter," you try to lighten things up. "I asked my grandmother," he says, and the two of you chuckle. "That’s why you called me Daisy for three years straight?" you ask. "God. Why do you remember that?" He puts a hand over his face, as if he’s embarrassed or something. "I thought maybe you didn’t know my name, and since I was Jenny’s sister, you just rolled with it." You laugh. "It suited you, Daisy," he says, and his hand moves your hair behind your ear. This isn’t the first time he’s done that, but this time he also looks at your lips. You feel like he’s looking at your soul if that's even possible.

"I really wanted to kiss you at Luke's party," you admit, because it feels like the right moment. "Oh yeah? So why didn’t you kiss me?" he asks, wetting his lower lip with his tongue. "I’ve wanted to do it since eighth grade, and then I had the chance and didn't know what to do" You look at him. His smile is still plastered across his face, and you wish he wasn’t so smug all the time. "Maybe I wanted you to kiss me at Luke's party," he says, almost ignoring what you just said. "Little Daisy, sitting by the pool alone. Maybe I approached you with intent? Maybe I was goi-" You don’t give him the satisfaction of finishing his sentence, as you crash your lips onto his like you’re possessed. His smile lingers for a few moments. His hands pull you closer to him as he presses you back against a light pole you didn’t know was behind you.

Art Donaldson is a good kisser. No one can take that from him. He’s an amazing kisser. His tongue is way too skilled. His hands have found their way under your shirt as if that’s their natural place. His lips move perfectly in sync with yours, and when you both pause to catch your breath, he presses his forehead against yours. He places small kisses on your cheek, then on your neck, and only when you lean your head back and bump into the pole do you remember that you’re in a public space. People could see you. This is not your style. "Okay, we’re good," you tap his chest lightly, making him laugh the most delightful laugh you’ve ever heard. "Is this everything you dreamed of before starting high school?" he asks, planting another small kiss on your cheek, as if he just can’t help himself or something. "I didn’t dream about kisses like this, Donaldson." You roll your eyes, thinking it’s pretty ridiculous that you’re smiling right now.

When you reach your dorm, you wonder if you should invite him in. You think he’d say yes. But you also think there’s something beautiful about leaving the night as it is- two people who used to know each other, kissing by a lake. He gives you a small kiss and takes out his phone as he turns to leave, while you head inside, unable to resist leaning against the door.

'Since eighth grade, huh?' -Unknown Number-

'Shut up.' -(Y/N)-

He replies with a flower emoji. You think the intention is daisy. Maybe you’re overthinking it. . . . You don’t expect Art to text you the next morning. You had that night together; it was great, and maybe it was exactly what you needed to get him out of your system. Maybe it was what you needed to finally move on from that endless crush on Art Donaldson. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit disappointed when he didn’t reach out at all, as if he’d disappeared from the face of the earth. But that’s probably fine. He doesn’t owe you anything, and you don’t owe him. You each have your own lives at Stanford. You’re trying to juggle work and studies. You’re supposed to submit a thirty-page paper after Thanksgiving, and you’ve only written three. Clearly, you have enough to keep you busy.

Your mom called a few days ago, and you cried. Because you hadn’t really talked in almost four months. She said Jenny convinced her. It’s kind of messed up, but you don’t say that. You’re just glad someone convinced her. You’ve been thinking a lot lately about how strange it is- how you never behaved outside of what was expected of you, and the one time you did, they reacted as if you’d committed a crime. You think about it even when you’re trying not to think about it. Your mom asked if you’re coming home for Thanksgiving. You said no. You wonder if it made her sad only after you hung up. . . . The next time you see Art, he’s flirting with a redhead at a Thanksgiving party Summer convinced you to attend. Honestly, you could’ve skipped this party, but Summer said she wanted the girl who invited her there. So you bit your tongue and told her you’d meet her there, because that’s what friends do.

It’s easy to tell when Art is flirting; it’s basically exaggerated hand gestures and a level of closeness he’s never tried with you. You’ve seen him in action before. You try not to stare, because it doesn’t really matter. Instead, you look for Summer, who’s on the opposite side of the room, directly in Art’s line of sight. It makes you smile, knowing he’ll see that you’re here. You’ve decided you’re going to ignore him. You made that decision when you passed by him on your way to Summer, feeling his eyes on you but not meeting his gaze.

When Summer slips away to sit with Caitlin -the girl she’s interested in- a guy you don’t recognize approaches you. He introduces himself and offers you a drink. You politely decline, you’re smarter than to accept punch from a complete stranger. He’s nice, but standing a little too close for your comfort. He leans over you, and you feel a bit trapped between him and the wall you’re leaning against. You could walk away, of course, but the whole situation feels uncomfortable. You wonder where Summer is, unable to see her in the crowd.

"Don’t you think you’re a bit too close?" Art’s voice is firm and unyielding as he positions himself next to you, raising an eyebrow at the guy. "Sorry, man, thought she was single," he says, disappearing like he was never there. Neither of you bother to correct him about the two of you not actually being together. You roll your eyes at Art and head toward the kitchen, feeling his steps following behind. You spot Summer with Caitlin on one of the couches, and she gives you a nod, signaling that she’s fine and that you’re free to leave if you want. "Hey, you didn’t go home," he says behind you, as if everything is normal. "Quite the observation, Donaldson," you say, knowing you’re being mean. But, fuck it, he deserves it. You grab a beer from the kitchen and head outside, with him trailing beside you. "You’re mad at me because I didn’t text you," he sighs, prompting you to stop and raise an eyebrow at him. "You really think you’re something special, huh?" Maybe a bit too harsh, but it’s all you’ve got right now. "I don’t think I’m anything special. I just didn’t know what to say." He sighs again as you start walking away from the building. "It was a good night. I didn’t want to ruin it, you know?" You think he sounds almost shy. His voice is softer than usual, and you remind yourself that you also labeled that night as a good one, as a nice experience you didn’t want to spoil. So maybe it’s unfair to be angry- after all, you could have reached out to him, too. But what would you have even said? The three weeks since then passed quickly, and most of the time, you didn’t think about him at all. So it’s fine. Everything’s really fine.

"It’s ok, Donaldson, I wasn’t sitting by the phone waiting for a message from you. You can let it go," you sum up, trying to sound amused and light-hearted, though it comes out a bit too bitter for your liking. "So why didn’t you go home?" he asks, changing the subject. "I’m working." You shrug. He raises an eyebrow, like someone who knows that’s not the whole truth but also understands he’s treading on thin ice right now and shouldn’t push for more. "Why didn’t you go?" you throw the question back at him, trying to show him that it’s all good. "I’ve got a match tomorrow, plus my mom doesn’t really care," he replies, and you nod, understanding a bit of what he means. You knew his mom- she always struck you as the coldest person in the world. "What are you doing at a party if you have a match tomorrow?" you ask, raising an eyebrow, wondering if it’s too harsh, because you’re trying to steer the conversation onto calmer ground. "It’s in the afternoon," he shrugs. "You don’t have to walk with me, my dorms are really close," you say after a few moments of silence. "We’re good? We're friends and you’re not mad at me anymore, right, Daisy?" he asks, nudging his shoulder against yours. You roll your eyes at the silly nickname, but you don’t find it in yourself to correct him.

"We’re good," you conclude, walking into your building, leaving him behind. . . . The next day, you decide to go to his game after your shift, only to find out that Patrick fucking Zweig is also sitting in the small crowd. Most of the students eager to see Stanford’s star in action probably love their families more and decided to go home. You sat far from Patrick, but it didn’t stop him from giving you a puzzled look as he whispered something to the girl sitting next to him, who was fully focused on Art's game. You remembered her from the diner the other day. She’s beautiful.

Art won to the applause of the crowd that stayed to watch until the end. Two hours of the ball going back and forth and sounds that were almost erotic. Whatever. You consider heading back to your dorm without saying anything just to avoid talking to Patrick. But Art smiles at you and gives a small wave, so you know there's no way to get out of at least saying hello. You need to suck it up. “Congratulations, Donaldson,” you mumble, and he gives you the smuggest smile he can find. “Little (Y/L/N), long time,” Patrick says to you with half-loudness. He doesn’t say anything bad, but you shrink a little. Trying to remember the last time someone called you that. Probably at Luke's party. Art looks at you with an apologetic look as if he knows. He probably doesn’t know. But that's okay. “How’s the tour?” you ask politely because it’s the right thing to do. “Good, good,” he says, shifting his gaze from you to Art and back to you. Like a man with a plan. “Want to have dinner with us?” he asks. In any other situation, you’d laugh, because the odds of you sitting at the same table with Patrick Zweig would be slim, especially considering his history with Jenny. “I wish, but I have a paper due in a few days, and I really have to work on it. Maybe next time,” you smile the most genuine smile you can find and quickly move away.

“Dude, you didn’t tell me Little (Y/L/N) was here,” you hear Patrick laugh. “Shut up, Patrick,” you’re almost sure you heard Art reply.

'You wish?' -Art Donaldson- He sent it half an hour later when you were already sitting at your computer with a cup of coffee in hand.

You turned off your phone. You need to focus. . . . Art came to your work far more often than you expected. He probably tried every dish on the menu, including the pancakes with the “secret” sauce that you suspect is just chocolate mixed with overly sticky jam. He sometimes studied there or came with his friends. He talked to you but not too much, and you texted each other from time to time. Were you friends? It felt strange to think that Art Donaldson and you were friends- not because he wasn’t someone you’d want to call a friend, but because you’d finally let go of the idea of him as someone out of reach.

One day, when he walked you home, he asked why you took on a fourth shift, since you usually didn’t work Mondays. “Are you keeping tabs on me, Donaldson?” you asked with a half-smile. “Daisy,” he sighed, as if you were being ridiculous, even though he was the one who knew your schedule and which days you didn’t usually work. “I’m saving up for a ticket home for the holidays, so,” you shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “You haven’t bought a ticket yet?” he asked, looking at you with raised eyebrows. “I’m buying it myself, so it’s taking me a minute.” Your parents had made it very clear they were only paying for your dorm. You bought your own books, and you had to cover your own flights. You didn’t look at him when you said it, afraid he might judge you- even if it was silly.

He stopped and looked at you. “That’s fucked up, (Y/N).” Whenever Art said your name like that recently, you knew he was serious, and that the conversation was drifting somewhere too deep. Like the time you talked about his grandmother, or his dad. “It is what it is,” you replied, continuing to walk, hoping he would keep walking too. You didn’t want to dwell on the fact that they bought Jenny her train ticket. You didn’t want to dwell on the thought that even if it was cheaper, no one made her feel guilty for the only choice she’d ever made in her life. “I could get you a ticket,” he said, and this time, you stopped. “What the fuck?” you asked, your voice going up an octave. “I don’t need you to–” “For the miles. You can pay me back later,” he shrugged like it was no big deal. “I don’t need you to buy me a ticket. I don’t need your money, Art, let it go.” Your voice shook a little; you wondered if he heard it. “It’s not out of pity,” he said, voicing what you didn’t say. But you kept walking as if you hadn’t heard him.

“I wonder if we’ll find a spot in the library tomorrow,” you changed the subject to the first thing that popped into your head. Art didn’t say anything, but you knew it was the last thing he cared about at that moment. . . . A week before your flight, Billie cut your bangs. It’s not a cry for help, you told everyone who gave you a weird look. It’s cute. It’s fucking cute, ok? Art watched you from across the room at Patrick's party. You wondered if he'd say hello or if you'd both act like, at best, casual acquaintances- or, at worst, like you were just Jenny's little sister. You missed Lia and a few others who were fun to drink with and gossip with. You found out that Michelle was pregnant, which was a fucking scandal.

“Hey, stranger.” Art said when you walked into the kitchen. His eyes were redder than usual, and his smile was mischievous but tired. “I didn’t think you’d come,” he said, making Lia glance between the two of you. “Did you see she cut her bangs?” she asked, taking a sip from a drink you couldn’t quite identify. “It’s not a cry for help.” “It’s not a cry for help,” you both said together, but Art used a screechy voice, like he was imitating you, making Lia laugh. “She’s been yelling that at people all week,” he said to her, as if you weren’t standing right there. You considered grabbing a glass of wine and leaving them to talk alone. “Dave’s here,” Lia said suddenly, and you saw Art tense, his smile fading as if he sobered up instantly. If it weren’t for his telltale red eyes, there’d be no trace of it.

You and Dave had been together most of your last year in high school. He was the first guy you slept with, which was fine. It was just that everything felt a bit weirder whenever he was around since you broke up. It felt like you’d gone from friends to lovers to people scared of catching some incurable disease from each other if you'd even look at one another. “It’s totally fine,” you rolled your eyes, because, well, it really was fine. You hadn’t felt anything for Dave for almost a year. You regretted not knowing how he was doing or how he was handling college, but that’s life- you win some, you lose some.

“Little (Y/L/N),” Patrick Zweig’s voice grated in your ear. “Where’s (Y/L/N)?” he added quickly, probably drunker than usual, though you weren’t surprised. “Patrick,” Art muttered toward him, almost whining, like a man shocked by his best friend’s crudeness. “She’s at home, wasn’t feeling well.” You wondered if that was a convincing excuse for Jenny skipping Patrick’s party. But it was the excuse she left with you, and that’s what you’d stick to. “Well, at least we’ve got one family representative. What can you tell us about Art in California?” he asked, and you wondered why he was so desperate to put you in the spotlight. “Patrick, leave her alone,” Art’s tone was defensive, giving the guy next to him no option to dig any further. Patrick just flashed a mischievous grin and raised his hands in feigned surrender. “I like the bangs, you wear a mental breakdown well,” he chuckled and left the kitchen as chaotically as he’d entered, yelling something to Luke about beer pong. “Sorry, he’s an asshole,” Art said, sighing. You wondered when Lia had disappeared from your view. “He’s… Patrick,” you rolled your eyes. And it was true, you knew he didn’t act this way out of malice, he was just like that. “Want to get out of here?” Art asked. “Don’t you want to spend some time with your friends?” you returned the question. “I could use some air. Besides, who’s my friend here?” he shrugged. And as you both headed outside, you thought that was the saddest thing Art Donaldson had ever said to you.

"How does it feel to be home?" he asked. You want to say it’s ok, that it’s exactly what you dreamed, but it’s more like what you expected it would be. Your parents aren’t mad at you anymore, but they don’t approve of your decision either, and they remind you at every opportunity that they think you made a mistake. “It’s fine.” You shrugged. “I hate it when you say that,” he had this bitter laugh. “What?” You stopped for a moment and looked at him. “Every time you say something’s ‘fine,’ I know it’s not, and I have no idea how to get you to tell me.” He sighed, sitting down on a bench that hadn’t gotten wet from the rain that fell earlier in the afternoon.

“I’m not lying to you,” you tried to defend yourself, searching through your mind for other times you’d said something was ‘fine.’ You think he’s exaggerating. “I don’t think you’re lying. I think you don’t want to say things out loud,” he said. You think that if he weren’t a little drunk, he wouldn’t have brought up this conversation. “It’s weird, being home,” you said after a few seconds. He looked at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to say more. “I hate it when people call me ‘Little (Y/L/N).’ It feels like I don’t exist without Jenny,” you said, sharing something you hadn’t even told Lia. “I know,” Art said. “That’s why I get mad at Patrick when he calls you that.” He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. “How did you know?” you asked, surprised by the nonchalance with which he said it. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he asked with a half-smile, “I just know you, Daisy.” And if you didn’t know he was drunk and tired, you’d think there was sadness in his eyes. . . . A few days later, you saw Patrick at the grocery store, which was strange in itself because you were pretty sure Patrick Zweig had assistants to go grocery shopping for him. “Little (Y/L/N),” he said, and you’re fairly sure the smile on his face was genuine; he was actually glad to run into you. “Happy Christmas,” he said, stopping in front of you, holding a carton of orange juice and what looked like a frozen pizza. “I’m Jewish,” you rolled your eyes, only making him smile more. He knew that- he could deny it all he wanted, but Patrick knew Jenny very well, and you and Jenny shared genes. You both paid quietly for your items at the checkout, and as you stepped outside, he lit a cigarette, looking at you with an expression that seemed to expect you to stop and stand with him.

“I’m really glad you’re there with him at Stanford, you know?” he said after a few puffs of smoke. “Yeah? Why?” You tried to avoid smiling at him. You didn’t think he deserved a smile; he’s a jerk. “Because he’s better when you’re around,” he said softly, with a kind of depth you hadn’t seen in him before- something that made you think you understood what Jenny saw in him, how he managed to break her heart. “At tennis?” you asked. Because that’s all Patrick cared about- tennis, girls, and maybe Art. “At everything.” He shrugged, all the depth disappearing as he began to walk away. “Happy Hanukkah, Little (Y/L/N). Say hi to your sister for me.” You could see a wink. Patrick Zweig is defiantly an asshole. . . . You and Art went together to the New Year’s party at Stanford. Billie and Summer haven’t returned yet, and you’re almost certain Art moved his flight to catch the same one as yours, but you didn’t ask him about it because you think it would make you seem too smug. And you’re not. You really aren’t. You just think that if anything had changed from the last time he asked if you two were friends, he would have told you. But he hasn’t, so…whatever.

He sat on your bed today while you did your makeup, never taking his eyes off you through the mirror. Someone watching might think you’d hypnotized him. You don’t think you saw him blink once in the fifteen minutes he stared at you. “You like what you see?” you asked with a half-smile, still looking at his reflection. “What if I do?” he shrugged, as if this ridiculous flirtation was the truest thing he’d said in ages.

You decide not to linger too hard on his hand holding yours all the way to the party. Or on the fact that he kept you close to him while talking to people you didn’t know. On the effort he put into participating in a conversation with a friend you met in one of your courses. You try not to blush when he leans in and asks if you’re planning to kiss him at midnight. He's being bold. You think he’s acting like a brat. It should bother you. It doesn’t bother you.

You kiss him at midnight. Or maybe he kisses you. You’re not exactly sure, because you’re both so wrapped up in your own bubble, ignoring the drunken students around you. Your foreheads touch, and in an instant, your lips are on his, or his are on yours. It doesn’t matter. The result is the same. Beer and gum, and something else you can’t quite identify, maybe desperation. You like the mix. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you could get used to it. “It’s not silly, right?” you ask quietly while you both catch your breath. “It’s anything but silly, Daisy,” he says with certainty. And you don’t think you’ve ever heard Art Donaldson sound so resolute.

He kisses you all over when you get to your room. You thank the holiday gods for keeping your roommates away. Your red dress finds itself on the floor much faster than you expected. He’s too good at this. You’d feel much less confident if he didn’t look at you like you held the sun in your left hand and the moon in your right. You find yourself sitting on top of him in your bra and underwear, his hands on your hips steadying you. You’ve never felt sexier than you do right now. A little voice in your head screams at you to engrave this feeling. But you silence it; it’s insecure and reminds you of Jenny, the last person you want to think about when you’re at second base with Art Donaldson.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as his lips trail down your neck to your chest, unclasping your bra with one hand like a pro. “Shut up,” you manage to say, and he chuckles into you, as if he’s trying to bury himself within you. It's hot, stupidly hot. In a few minutes, he half-gently tosses you onto the bed, stripping down with a speed you didn’t think possible. He leans over you in boxers, and you close your eyes for a moment, knowing you have to remember this. Because he really is a work of Art. You’ve never known anyone whose name suited them more.

His lips were everywhere on your body at once, if that’s even possible, and his fingers slid in and out of you before you even realized you’d lost your underwear or when you’d started making that sound from your throat. Everything embarrassed you but also felt natural. You’ve never experienced such a range of emotions with anyone else, and the second that thought crossed your mind, you found yourself on the edge, and Art was above you, pressing soft kisses to your stomach, whispering soothing words while you caught your breath.

He entered you, and you felt like he was enveloping you from every angle, your moans blending together. You think a tear slipped down your cheek. You’re almost sure Art kissed you right where it fell. He was both gentle and rough at the same time. You don’t think that makes sense, but a lot of things tonight don’t make sense. You almost laugh at that thought but decide against it. Instead, you look at him, only to find his eyes already on yours, and he’s so beautiful, with his blond curls and that smile stretched across his face. “Fuck, Art,” you manage to mumble as you feel another orgasm building within you, you didn’t know you were capable of more than one. To be honest, even one was rare until recently. “I know, Daisy, I know,” he says in a half-strangled voice before his lips are back on yours, his hand wrapping around yours, and you think it’s incredibly intimate. You’ve never had sex like this before. You don’t think there’s any trace of your old crush left. You think it might be love. After he cleans you up with a towel he soaked with warm water, he lies beside you, and the small bed forces you to stay close. Maybe it’s Art who refuses to let go. You’re not sure why, but your legs are tangled together and your head is resting on his chest. “Are you going to break my heart again?” he asks, and you don’t know what he means because you’ve never broken anyone’s heart, least of all Art Donaldson’s. But he’s so certain in his question, he doesn’t take it back. He doesn’t correct himself. “When did I ever break your heart?” you asked. “When didn’t you?” he replies with a half-laugh. “You gave me a flower when I was eight and then didn’t talk to me for ten years,” he says quietly, like he’s sharing a secret you already knew but never understood.

It’s definitely love. You think you’re okay with that.

Hey? I don't even know what's going on but i'd like you to tell me what you think about that? that's it. Talk to me I guess.............

#challengers fic #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #challengers #wreck my plans #art donaldson smut

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night-raven-tattler · 10 months ago

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Can you offer me a nice shirt in this trying time?

Summary: The usual shenanigans leave you with an unwearable shirt. All you can do is ask your friend (?) for help.

Characters: Leona, Jade, Epel, Malleus and GN!Reader (separate, platonic adjacent...?)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and mild panic over the dirty shirt

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Looking at your pathetic expression akin to a kicked puppy while you tried to cover your dirty shirt made Leona burst into laughter, even after you just stepped on his tail

You looked away, flustered, not even wanting to recount the embarassing turn of events that just happened

But you didn't need to; Leona heard it all

He heard you from the other side of the botanical gardens talking with your friends, who started bickering with each other

Things got a bit physical in a playful way, but none of you really expected to shove each other so hard you all crumbled to the ground like a ridiculous domino

And the only thing you could be glad for was that you missed the pile of compost nearby

And now you were in front of him as he quite enjoyed your flustered state

"I wanted to apologise for stepping on your tail, you know. But I changed my mind."

Leona's laughter turned into snickering as he wiped nonexistent tears away from his eyes

"If you don't want me to laugh, then stop acting like a clown."

You stomped your foot, which made Leona look at you

"This is serious! I have no other clean shirt and class is going to start soon. So you can either help me or give me an idea or leave me alone."

Something in Leona's eyes changed at your words: his mocking aura went away slightly, and you could almost hear what he was thinking

Still thinking about class after being dragged in dirt? Damn goody-two-shoes.

"Alright, I'm doing this just this once. But if I catch you play in dirt again, you're on your own, you damn warthog."

Leona put a hand in his pocket, then tapped his foot

To your surprise, the dirt started vanishing from your outfit right away

All you could do was stare at Leona, mouth agape

And he stared right back at you

Until his smile turned into a frown in a secons

"What are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek? Just go to your class already."

You just frantically nodded and scurried away from him

...just to return a few seconds later and leave, in fact, a kiss on his cheek

He just stared at you while you awaited any kind of reaction beside his resting tired face

"...Forget what I said about not helping you. Next time I'll shove you into dirt myself."

That reaction seemed to satisfy you enough, as you took your leave right after his threat

『••✎••』

Working at the Mostro Lounge had its ups and downs

Ups: the job is on campus, the place is always looking for workers and it's one of the best paying jobs on campus

Downs: one of your coworkers is Jade, and the other is Floyd

They'd be relatively nice coworkers if they didn't take their sweet time with helping you while enjoying every second of suffering from all living creatures

Like they did when you tripped on your way to a client and spilled the drink on yourself

They just watched for a few seconds how you panicked over the dirty shirt and the irritated customer

Jade came and dragged you away a few seconds too late for your liking while Floyd started on another drink against his will

You had no idea why Jade led you to the Lounge's changing room, but his smile did not calm you down at all

After all, Jade was very talented at everything except of being reassuring

He left you on your own for a few seconds, coming back with a new uniform shirt, which he handed to you

"This is a replacement for your dirty shirt. Please get changed so you can resume your duties."

You stared at Jade suspiciously

Was he handing you a shirt just like that?

He accepted your silent confusion for a few more seconds before his smile widened, showing his teeth

"What is the problem, Reader? Perhaps you require my assistance with getting changed?"

No matter how hard you frowned at him, the blush was not making your disdain too effective

"What? No! That's not it!"

"...So you're saying you would not refuse my services if that were to be the case?"

"I- no! Ugh!"

Even while you hid your face in the shirt you knew he was still giving you that annoying grin

"You're saying I can just change into this? Without any payment or punishment?"

Jade gasped and put a hand over his chest, feigning offense

"What an incredulous accusation, Reader. I can assure you that no consequences will follow you needing another shirt for the remainder of your shift."

"..."

"...Are you sure?"

"Certainly."

You knew better than to trust any of the tweels, but you supposed you'll cross that bridge when you got to it

Besides, being MIA on your shift might make Azul take thaumarks out of your paycheck, and you didn't need to manifest that kind of outcome

"Fine, I'll take it. Please leave so I can change."

"As you wish."

So he left you in the empty changing room, a hint of a blush still on your face

You knew getting revenge on any student at NRC was a bad idea, but you couldn't help but imagine "accidentally" spilling some cherry juice on Jade's dorm uniform

『••✎••』

Cleaning duty in the library was not fun, but at least Epel knew how to make things entertaining

He wasn't a comedian or anything like that, but his Vil-themed tirades were always animated and gossipy enough that they had you hooked on his every word

Or every word that you could understand, at least

And a complaining storytelling Epel is not the most careful Epel

So you were not too surprised when he spilled some ink on your sleeves

"Hey, my shirt! You spilled ink on me!"

Epel noticed the big stains and his eyes widened

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"What am I gonna do?! I have no clean laundry today!"

While you were frantically pacing around, Epel was staring at the floor, not being able to meet your eyes

"Hey, come on... It's not that bad. See, it's just a small stain!"

The death glare you threw his way rivaled Vil's, and Epel took a step back instinctively

"Okay, okay! I get it, let me think..."

A few seconds of contemplation later, Epel went to the window and looked outside

"Hey, Vil is having a club meeting outside right now. He must have a stain stick or a spell or something."

"What about cleaning duty?"

"Just go deal with your shirt and come back when it's clean. I'll put away all the old ink in the meantime."

After Epel's convincing, you relented

But now you had the perfect opportunity to show off your newly aquired NRC thirst for revenge...

Let's just say that Vil was very thankful you told him about Epel's attitude towards your stain while he dealt with it....

Epel did not talk to you the next day

Except for that time during lunch when he came towards you with a bitter expression and some comically overfilled pockets

When he got next to you, he shoved his hand into one of his pockets and, with difficulty, pulled out 5 stain pens

"I hate you."

That was all he said before walking away

『••✎••』

During your days as an NRC student you've learned a lot of things, including facts about the weather

1: The weather will always be nice on the date of the monthly scarabinelle debates in the courtyard

2: The statue of the King of the Underworld from the courtyard never got wet from rain

3: Unlike his statue, you were not waterproof

Neither was your shirt

So by the time you reached the Hall of Mirrors, you were soaking wet

You marveled at your misfortune right as Malleus entered the room through the Diasomnia mirror

His mild surprise from bumping into you made him almost not notice your predicament

"...Child of man? What happened to you?"

You sighed and told him you were caught in the rain, but you had no clean change of clothes and were feeling pretty cold already

"Hm. This can't do. Humans are very fragile creatures, a simple soak can leave lasting effects on your body.

Malleus seemed to fall deep in thought, as if he was presented with an incredible puzzle, and not the random misfortune of a friend

He nodded to himself, and you were curious to know the conclusion he reached

"Allow me to help you."

You sighed of relief at his decision

Out of everyone on campus, you trusted Malleus to be genuine and helpful, so you accepted his help

You didn't think much of it when he pulled out his magical pen from his pocket; you figured he was just going to use a small drying spell

Boy were you wrong.

Malleus rotated his pen slightly in the air, creating an ever growing wind

The speed and intensity of it grew very fast, and you had to grab onto a pillar to hold yourself in place

You watched in horror how a few students were pushed by the wind back into their mirrors as soon as they entered the Hall of Mirrors

You couldn't even attempt to do any damage control, since the wind was too loud for your voice to be heard

After what felt like forever, Malleus' wind started to dwindle and your feet were able to be on the ground again

"That... That certainly was a method of helping."

"Well? Was it successful? You seem pretty dry to me."

He smiled proudly at you

It was obvious how he knew that he did a good job and he was simply awaiting your praise

You patted down your uniform, and were surprised to notice your uniform was, indeed, dry

"...Yeah, actually. Thanks!"

"You are very welcome."

His smug words were carried by his confident grin as he proudly marched away from you and out of the room

The whole interaction was definitely weird, so you couldn't help but share it over lunch with your friends, Ace and Deuce

After you shared Malleus' small drying machine job, Ace started laughing at you, while Deuce put a hand on your shoulder, a sympathetic look on his face

『••✎••』

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #jade leech #epel felmier #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar x reader #jade leech x reader #epel felmier x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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inkinflux · 17 days ago

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Lakefront Liaison

Jayce Talis x gn!Reader (& kinda Steb x Reader if you choose to interpret it that way I guess?) | 2.6K | SFW (tw: half-hearted suicide attempt) You must learn how to move on after Jayce's death. 🚫 I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫

The lake was pink as it reflected the hues of the clouds above. Small flames danced on the surface, doubled by the water’s mirror. Lily pads bumped against your calves at each subtle movement, the smell of water lilies mingling with the scent of melting candle wax.

Across the way, a drooping willow’s arms skimmed the water, dancing in the calm breeze. Your mind filled in the gaps of the shadows, inventing a familiar form standing under the canopy, his face turned away.

You squeezed your eyes shut, heart tugged by a heavy weight. Underneath your eyelids the familiar sting welled, the pain around your raw eyes getting too much a bear.

A grounding hand came to rest upon your shoulder, giving a light squeeze. You turned, wiping your face, earning a saddened look from Caitlyn.

The stiff fabric of her eye patch crinkled as her brow furrowed, and you could tell her seeing you like this made it very difficult not to join in your crying.

“We’re going to grab a drink, since the service is over,” she told you gently. “Come with us.”

You shook your head, turning back to the water filled with floating candles, wanting to join them in their suspended peace.

“(Y/n),” Caitlyn stepped down next to you. Instinctively, you reached out to hold her forearms, steadying her to prevent her from slipping against the mossy stone underfoot. Doing so unfortunately brought you face to face once more, nowhere to run. “I know the easiest thing right now is to shut out the world. Trust me, being alone is the worst thing you can do to yourself.”

You averted your gaze, catching Vi lingering at the top of the stairs, the flames on the water reflected in her glassy eyes.

“I don’t want to have to talk about how I’m feeling,” you said. “I can’t describe it, and it would be painful to try.”

“No talking. Understood.” Cait began up the stairs, tugging you along. “Keeping in the company of those who care about you is enough.”

Vi wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you passed. The two had somewhat adopted you in the wake of all the chaos, keeping you company despite every refusal, waking you up at the appropriate time to drag you out to breakfast and bringing you dinner when you inevitably forgot to eat again.

They both wore their scars on their sleeve as they sat in the booth across from you. Spilling thoughts and feelings over quickly emptying drinks, talking through the difficult things in soft, solemn voices, holding hands all the while. You were glad you had them, and you were glad they had each other, but their support wouldn’t fill the empty seat beside you.

The way Cait traced the white lines on Vi’s face, the way Vi placed tender kisses to Cait’s knuckles, it all reminded you of what you had lost. What you would never hope to find again.

Anger had already passed, that stage of grief marked by broken furniture and slashed canvases that had littered your apartment, the only evidence remaining being a few dents in the walls and floors. You were nowhere near acceptance yet, and you doubted you’d ever get there, standing stagnant at the station of despair.

Everything felt heavy, even more so once you’d knocked back a couple drinks.

“You know, whenever he went away on his travels, he’d always bring back trinkets,” Caitlyn reminisced, leaning against Vi’s side. “I thought it was the most exciting thing. A carved stone from a village in the Shurima deserts. Dried plants from some deep forest in Valoran.” Cait smiled to herself. “I used to think he was the coolest person in all of Runeterra.”

Your soul sunk just a little further. You’d been so selfish in your mourning, barely able to rally the energy to check in on everyone else who had loved him. Ximena had wept enough to fill the lake for a second time over, and all you’d managed to offer was a shoulder to cry on. No comforting words, no soothing reassurances.

To think, if life had gone a different way, you might have become her daughter-in-law.

You dropped your face into your hands, shoulders shaking as the guilt overwhelmed you. Caitlyn and Vi grew quiet, unsure if their shared stories were helping or hurting.

“(Y/n),” Vi cautiously came over and slid next to you, warm arms holding you tightly. “Hey. It’s okay.”

Cait gave her a sharp look across the table and she grimaced, giving a shrug in response. They’d tried so hard to accommodate you, giving you space to grieve but not letting you drift so far out to sea that you risked losing yourself. It was a delicate balance, especially at a time when they were mourning themselves. But they had each other for support, and without Jayce, you had no one.

Not only did you have to carry the pain of a missing heart, but at each turn you found hatred and anger lobbed against your parted friend. The blame had been laid squarely at Viktor’s grave, for which there was no physical embodiment. No monuments carved in stone, his name stricken from every Piltover Academy record, as if he had never existed at all.

To know he was being regaled as a hero only as a direct opposition to his partner would have killed Jayce. No matter how much you fought the narrative, it had already been woven in the tapestry of history, the loose threads burned and sealed.

And that cruel, twisted history had happened all without you.

“Thanks for inviting me out,” you announced, “but I think I’ll go home now.”

Vi and Cait hadn’t fought you on it. They’d offered to walk you home, but you’d declined, claiming the quiet would be good for you.

The cobblestone path swirled beneath you in your tipsy state, the night crisp and hinting at an incoming autumn. You hadn’t consciously thought about where you were going, but your feet led you back to the lakeshore.

A majority of the candles had been snuffed out, the candles burned to their ends. You wobbled as you descended the stairs into the dark water, its refreshing cold welcoming you into its hold.

Lily pads darted away from the movement, water lilies bending against the small waves. The slick rocks on the lake’s bottom kept making you slip, water splashing into your face as you surged forward, deeper.

Your clothes dragged you down, heavy and weightless at the same time. Soon, you could no longer reach the bottom with your toes, and you began to wade with outstretched arms and kicking legs. You swam with effort to the center of the black lake, amongst the few candles that continued to flicker against the encroaching night.

It was there that you decided to turn onto your back, floating and gazing up at the clear, starry night sky. No matter how you tried to burn it from your memory, it would always serve to remind you of that day when the sky turned into roiling waves of agony. Before it was all blown away in an instant, with a finality you had known was the last moment of Jayce’s life.

The pain tore at you like clawing hands reaching from the bottom of the lake. You cried, tears slipping down the sides of your face, into the calling void below.

You closed your eyes, replaying warm memories as you stopped treading the water, allowing the weight of everything that had transpired to tug you down as low as you felt.

When you opened them again, you could see the distorted stars above, and the black circles of the floating candles, some surrounded by a small sliver of dancing light.

You sunk further and further, until your back hit the stones, and the surface was a slash of barely visible sky. The black silhouettes of small fishes travelled across your vision, darting around the spots of colour that started to sway in their own current, replacing the oxygen that was leaving your body.

With your body cradled by the soft aquatic plants, you thought you could fall peacefully asleep. You drifted subtly, until you were beneath the weeping willow. It gazed down at you with disappointment, its limps tracing the surface, beckoning you to return.

Your lungs burned, your pulse becoming a thundering drum in your ears as you gritted your teeth against the urges of self preservation.

Your limbs started to feel prickly, the tips of your fingers twitching up, wanting to be taken in the willow's arms.

A shadow peered over the edge, watching you now. You blinked up at it, willing the phantom away, to leave you alone in your water-logged grief. But no matter how you tried, your chest kept floating up, your heart less of the heavy stone than you thought it was.

When you burst against the surface tension of the water, the first breath felt like a knife against your throat. You coughed, sputtered, splashing the pond scum away.

“It’s late for a swim.”

You glared up at the uninvited guest. His cheeks flared as he looked down upon you, his enforcer beret slightly askew.

“I could have you arrested for that.”

You balked. “For utilizing a public space?”

The enforcer gave you an incredulous look. “For public indecency in the form of a dead body.”

He extended a hand. You frowned at it.

“Come, now,” his voice was so quiet, like he wasn’t accustomed to using it. “My shift ended ten minutes ago, and I’m in no mood to get in there to heave you out.”

“If your shift’s already ended, why don’t you leave me be?”

He huffed a sigh, rescinding his extended arm. “You’re right. There’s no use fighting.”

First, he rid his beret. Then, he unbuttoned his coat, shirking it off onto the grass. His shoes were the last thing he took off before he slid into the water beside you, still in his trousers and undershirt, re-emerging to shake the water from his face.

You starred daggers at him. “Well now I don’t want to stay. I can’t brood with you here.”

The enforcer smirked, startling you with a splash of water in the face.

“Hey!”

“You weren’t afraid of letting the innocent civilians of Piltover wake up to see your bloated corpse. Why does it matter if I’m here now?”

You rolled your eyes, drifting to the lip of the pavement, hauling yourself with your heavy clothes up and onto the edge.

The enforcer followed, sitting with a wet thwap beside you, dripping lake water in a steady beat that broke up the silence now between you.

It was a while before he said, “You’re Kiramman’s friend. I’ve seen you around.”

You nodded, refusing to meet his eye as you stared down, kicking your feet against the water, back and forth in a soothing repetition.

“You were in a relationship with Councilor Talis.”

Your movements stilled.

“Yeah.”

The enforcer pushed a webbed hand into your vision. You glanced up at him, his pale eyes glowing in the moonlight. “I’m Steb.”

You took his wet hand, shaking. “(Y/n).”

He gave you a gentle smile, then leaned back on his hands, peering up at the sky.

“It’s strange. For all the friends I lost that day, I’ve made many more as a consequence.”

A dragonfly landed on your knee, and he stared at it, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Were you there?” You asked, watching the dragonfly’s wings still as it rested on you.

“Yes,” he said, picking up his beret and beginning to circle the crest with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, for all he had been through, and for needing to deal with you. Once again, guilt nipped at your heels. “I just… don’t know how to be. It feels like the world keeps spinning, and people are starting to get on with their lives again, but I can’t.”

“I understand,” he told you, watching as the dragonfly took off, hovering close to your face without you noticing before it took off again.

The damp clothing pressed close to your skin was starting to bring the cold with it, and the sunken smell of lake water was becoming less pleasant with each passing second.

Steb moved to get to his feet, but your incoming words stilled him.

“He was reckless.”

You tugged at the grass beside you, tearing the blades of chlorophyll methodically.

“He never cared whenever he got hurt. Always racing off to protect everyone else. Even when it put him at risk, he’d do what he knew was right, no matter the cost.”

Steb settled in beside you, mirroring you grass-picking, though his movements were a lot slower and more relaxed than your anxious ripping.

“I wish he was here so I could scream at him for being so stupid. I wish I-” you choked up, your vision blurred with tears, “I wish he could be here to take responsibility for the pain he’s causing me.”

Words that had felt set in amber in the presence of your friends melted onto your tongue in the company of a kind stranger. It felt so liberating to unbury them from your chest.

“To die is the greatest betrayal of all,” Steb said, pointedly.

You rubbed your face, sniffling. “I get it. I was being selfish.”

“Yes,” he replied, getting to his feet. “Don’t feel bad about it. Dying is easy. That’s why it’s so often done.”

You accepted his arm this time, pulling you up out of your sorrow. Steb was more solid than his slender figure implied. Short fins ran down his arms, twitching as the cool breeze blew against his wet skin.

“Go home. You stink.”

“So do you,” you countered.

Steb raised a brow. “Now, who’s fault is that? I did just have my uniform starched, you know.”

Your lips quirked upwards. It felt like turning your back on a long, empty corridor towards a light.

“There’s a dry cleaner slash café on my street.” You hadn’t even thought about what that sentence implied before it left your mouth.

Steb tilted his head, reading the internal war plain on your face.

“You’ll pay?” Was all he asked.

You nodded, shoving away the guilt that threatened to bubble back up to the surface. “Sure.”

Steb picked up his relatively dry jacket and beret, tying the laces of his shoes together and throwing them over his shoulder.

“It’s not a date,” you clarified awkwardly.

Steb shrugged. “I didn’t interpret it as such.”

“Cool.”

You lingered there, hands holding your elbows, unsure what to say next.

“It was nice to meet,” Steb spoke into the awkward tension, seemingly immune to it in his stoicism, “despite the circumstances.”

“Yeah.” You didn’t know what else could be said.

“Tomorrow?” Steb checked.

“Yes.”

“8am works for me.”

“Okay. Eight.”

Steb gave a concise nod, then turned on his heel and left.

You blew out a breath, wide-eyed in your realization that this is what living on without Jayce meant. It meant making plans to meet with strangers and build new friendships. It meant finding ways to fill the days with activities. It was what Cait and Vi had been trying so desperately to encourage you to do.

The grief still sat patiently at the bottom of your stomach, but as least you knew you weren’t tied to it. Even if it was tiring to continue treading water, there was someone at the surface to keep you company as you did.

And he was very happy indeed to have his uniform in perfect order the following day, his cheeks ruffling in delight as he sipped his coffee and read the morning paper by your side.

#jayce #jayce talis #steb #steb arcane #arcane fanfiction #league of legends fanfiction #jayce x reader #jayce talis x reader #steb x reader #writing

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kaivenom · 8 months ago

Note

I just found your blog looking for Spencer white fics and yours are so good! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something between spider and a gn reader who finds it really attractive when he speaks French (cause that scene did something to me-)

Thank you for feeding the small amount of hbh fics🙏🙏

French cuisine

Summary: you go to Spencer's house and found him cooking, you decide to help him and you discover he can speak french.

Pairing: Spencer "Spider" White x gn!reader

A/N: Sorry that this had taken so long, college is starting the final section before exams an i am going crazy. Words on cursive are the translation from french.

It was an ussual Friday, you were going to Spencer's house, see some movies and eat popcorn. When you entered the house with the keys you borrowed, a french song was playing on the background, that was strange you thought, it must be his mother. Following the song, you found Spencer in the kitchen with an apron full of flour and humming the song.

"Look what we have here, the perfect 50's housewife," you joked while you get to hugh him from behind.

"Bonjour." he asked with a smile.

"Bonjour."

"Comment allez-vous?" you didn't understand anything and that made you question things.

"Wait, don't tell me you know how to speak french?"

"Yeah, i know, but i don't have to do it everytime... it's awful when people ask me: can you say something in french? or things like that."

"But you could have told me, i am your girlfriend." you tightened your grip among his waist and made a pout.

"I don't like to brag about it, but now you know."

"Yeah, right. What you said to me before?"

"How are you?" he turned around and kissed your forehead.

"Good, you?"

"Bon." something on the form he said it, made you blush.

"I suppose that means good."

"Correct." he put a finger with fluor on your nose, painting it white.

"Can you say more to me?" you make puppy eyes and like always, he can't resist.

"Tu es très belle," your heart skipped a heartbeat, you didn't know what he said but hearing him talking in french was exciting you more every secon. "i said you are very beautiful."

"Yeah?" his hands went to your cheeks and kissed you.

"Tu es la meilleure personne du monde." his lips drain your soul with every word and every kiss in between. You are the best person in the world

"Tell me more, please."

"Je t'aime... tes lèvres... ton corps... tes sons." his kisses increased, in speed, in intensity and passion, he was starting to feel very aroused by your reaction. I love you... your lips... your body... your sounds.

"I don't know what you said but i do too." you both laughed inoccently, for a moment unaware from the steamy interaction you both were having.

"Je veux faire du sexe avec toi." a moan almost escaped your mouth, you only understood one word and that was enough.

Then you started to smell burnt but apparently Spider was so concentrated in kissing your lips and neck, that he had forgotten he was cooking and also that he had things on the pans... that now are burning.

"How do you say the kitchen is on fire?"

"La cuisine est en feu." only a second was needed before he understood your words.

You both had to run to turn off the fire and open the windows to vent the kitchen. Nothing was saved from the disaster so you decided to order some french food to honor the ocassion and finish what you both started.

#heartbreak high spider #heartbreak high imagine #heartbreak high x reader #heartbreak high 2022 #hbh s2 #hbh2 #spencer white imagine #spencer spider white x reader #spencer white x reader #spencer spider white #spencer white #spider x reader #spider imagine #spider x you #heartbreak high spider x reader #heartbreak high spider imagine

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sparkelingspectres · 2 years ago

Text

Day 2:

So far the same appearence-wise, however I did witness some minor bug activity last night but it was too dark to photograph cant wait to see what happens next!!

I've always had a special interest in the process of decay with a side of mycology so I've decided to conduct an experiment:

I have 2 apples that have begun to go bad, so I've placed them in 2 different bare areas of my backyard, sprinkled water on them, and then added various mushroom powders let's see what happens over the course of several days or more :DD!

Day 1:

#i went to check on the apples last night out of curiosity and i found a bunch of roly-poly's chilling inside the stem of the secon apple :D #such cute little fellas #also it rained a bit last night so that'll probably expedite the decomposition process by quite a bit which is actually really beneficial #for the expirement bc im impatient and really wanna see these things get nasty #feel free to rb!!

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smallmightsupremacy · 7 months ago

Text

Why we are getting a dvk3

So. The war is over now, and everything is supposed to go back to normal, right?

Wrong. I don't know about you, but this recent chapter was... a roller coaster of emotions, to say the least. We went from the highs of graduation to a mysterious new character all the way to some panels showing how Izuku isn't doing well mentally. And I have a lot of thoughts about that last point in particular. Especially for what this means for Izuku and Katsuki's relationship going forward. So, well before reading this chapter, I was a firm believer that we were going to get a dvk3. It just makes sense, right? Every pivotal moment of their relationship has been a dvk moment, so it wouldn't be a stretch to assume that the third pivotal moment of them becoming true equals would be a dvk too. Not convinced? Well, I'm going to breakdown one specific moment in this chapter and explain why this makes me even more sure that we're getting a dvk3 The moment I'm referring too is Izuku's interaction with Ochako:

We start off with Izuku looking off into the distance after hearing the words "why I wanted to become a hero" from Mawata. It wouldn't be a stretch to assume that those words were enough to make him reflect on himself and beliefs; to reflect on his own why. Why exactly did he become a hero?

Well, we already know the answer to that: to save people with a smile.

But in the final war, did Izuku actually achieve that? He doesn't seem fully convinced about that idea:

He believes that he didn't fully save Tenko, and those feelings of self-hatred, of not being good enough rose to the surface when the why of becoming a hero was brought up. Hence, his pensive expression in that first frame. Clearly Izuku's going through some turmoil right now. Self-hatred, emptiness, probably no sense of direction about where he wants to go in his life now that he's quirkless... the list goes on. So what does he decide to do about it? He approaches Ochako:

Maybe it's to talk about her moment on the UA rooftop which was referenced just before, but it doesn't seem that way. They've already talked about that moment already, why bring it up again? I mean, you could argue that it's Izuku telling her not to be so humble or embarrassed over that moment, but his reaction when she changes the direction of the conversation says otherwise:

He looks so upset, like he wanted to truly talk about his feelings with a trusted friend. The war is over. There's no need for him to control his heart again. He can finally talk about his feelings... yet he gets brushed off.

The fact that this panel of him frowning is right next to one of Ochako laughing says A LOT too It wasn't an accident that this panel of Izuku was put next to one of Ochako smiling. This was done for a reason. I think that reason is to showcase Izuku reaching a realization-- the realization that everyone is starting to move on from the war and smile again while he's stuck in a slump. I think it's in that panel, where he decides that he won't try to talk about his feelings again. If he does, then he'll bring down the mood and no one will be smiling anyone. Remember, Izuku still blames himself for the reason why his class got targeted, so he probably blames himself for them getting injured and upset from the war too. In his mind, the least he can do is keep quiet about his feelings and suffer in silence at the gain of everyone else's happiness. That being said, this is by no means an attack on Ochako's character at all. She's a great friend to Izuku- hell, that's probably the reason why he decided to go to her specifically to talk about his feelings -but I think there's a part of her that doesn't want to talk about what happened in the war either.

Even if there was, she still would've said something or shown concern if she could truly see how much the war was impacting Izuku. Instead, she misses it. She misses it because, as close as they are, she's the person from class 1A that knows Izuku second best. So that leaves only one person who can help Izuku process his feelings: the one person that knows Izuku best; the one person that will be able to see through his guise of pretending to be alright and save him before he reaches the point of self-destruction; the same person that has proven that they can and will do something like that time and time again. Sound familiar? Yeah. Katsuki is the only one that can help Izuku right now.

But it's not going to pretty. I'm not necessarily saying that dvk3 will involve a fight. On the contrary, I think that's the last thing that should happen for a multitude of reasons: Katsuki is still recovering, their relationship is at the point where they can have vulnerable conversations without throwing punches (read: the hospital scene), and it wouldn't make sense at all to have them throwing punches. Izuku hasn't got a quirk anymore; against Katsuki, he doesn't stand a chance of winning the fight. And that just negates all their growth of becoming equals. So perhaps we shouldn't call it Deku vs Kacchan 3, but rather Deku AND Kacchan 3 It's going to be a fight of them accepting feelings; both each other's and their own. There's going to be crying and tears and so much pain, but it's going to end up with Katsuki reaching out to Izuku so we can get that long awaited and incredibly foreshadowed handhold. So we can see that Katsuki still sees Izuku as an equal, quirk or no quirk.

At least, that's what I hope. I'd love to hear your thoughts about this too!!

#bnha #mha #mha manga spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #mha 425 #bnha 425 #bkdk #bakudeku #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katuski #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha meta #bnha meta

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marthawrites · 1 year ago

Note

"don't shut me out. please"

I hope it is not too late for me to join the celebration ☺️ Congratulations! 💕👏🏼

Thank you sooososo much! You are such a gem and I appreciate all of your fandom love more than you know! I did my best to include a (one shot appropriate) slow burn, angst, and a happy ending. I hope you enjoy this ride MWAH!

Summer's End, Autumn's Beginning

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word Count: 6.3k+

About: A chance encounter with Aemond leads to a whirlwind of emotions. Over the next few months you both fail, in yourselves and in the relationship, and learn from the mistakes.

Includes: Chance encounter, age difference (references to Aemond x Alys) mentions of cheating, allusions to cheating, angst, second chance romance, and smut featuring vaginal fingering, possessive sex, and unprotected protected vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is the longest piece I've wrote in quite awhile - whew! I also feel like it's one of the more ambitious one-shot fics I've worked on/completed. Reader is non-descript. As always, please, enjoy!

read part 2 Between the Covers here

There were two things tied for number one on your five-year goal list.

First, be out of your city apartment (preferably as a home owner and not a renter)

Second, have a dog.

They went hand in hand. One couldn’t happen without the other. So, it was a hard tie and you weren’t willing to budge on either. Until then, to take the edge off your self-proclaimed animal loneliness, you volunteered at a local shelter two nights a week. Mondays and Wednesdays.

While your day job wasn’t a doctor, lawyer, or professional athlete – ones that your family pushed you to have while growing up – it still paid decently and had the potential for career advancement. And! You were able to live on your own. Not having a roommate was worth the dry job description. Besides, your boss was fair and most of your co-workers were friendly; a win win, really.

Tonight, Monday, you finished your shift, went home to change, then headed out to the shelter. Even though it was all volunteer hours you valued punctuality and did your best to get there around the same time each night.

“Hey! You made it!” Arryk called out to you when you stepped inside the building. Chaos sparked all around. He did a great job running and maintaining the schedule, and with the help of volunteers alongside regular staff, it was, more often than not, smooth sailing. Tonight, however, it appeared quite the opposite.

“Hey! Yeah, a few minutes later than usual, sorry!” You said as you walked over to him.

He waved a hand brushing off your apology. “No worries. We had a few people call in today. So, since being short staffed we’re definitely running behind. I know you normally help bathe the dogs with Baela tonight, but can I ask you to do something else instead?” He winced slightly with his question, unsure of your answer. He knew how much you loved Baela and cleaning the dogs!

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, crossing your arms. “You know I won’t administer shots. If I could get over my fear of needles I’d be a veterinarian and not an office worker like I am!” You scrunched your brows before one, all on its own accord, arched up dubiously.

“Ha!” He laughed. “No no no, I know. We have six dogs that need walking tonight. And I don’t think Targaryen can handle all of ‘em.”

“Helaena? She’s back?” You asked, eyes bright with surprise.

“She’s still away for that college trip. It’s her younger brother, Aemond. Have you met him before?”

You’d heard Helaena talk about him, of course, but you’d never met him. Shaking your head, you peered around the shelter looking for anyone else with the Targaryen tell-tale silver-blonde hair. No one caught your eye. “I haven’t. But, I don’t mind.”

“You are a lifesaver!” He praised. “He’s down the west hall getting them ready. Depending on how long you're here afterward, there might be another couple who could use a second walk. Terriers. You know how they are.”

“Happy to help, Arryk!” He was a good guy. You’d always liked him.

“Aemond’s tall, towheaded as the rest of his family, and has an eyepatch. You can’t miss him.” And with that Cargyll switched tasks and got right back to work.

Turning and walking down the west hall, you were happy to say, chaos began to fizzle out. This hall had the larger dogs; no wonder Aemond wouldn’t be able to walk all six at once. Even with the slow turn of summer to autumn sunset wouldn’t be for another three hours. Assuming all went well you’d be able to walk the second batch of dogs, too.

Down the aisle were five opened doors with each respective dog ready for their walk. Their leashes were hooked onto the door so they couldn’t run amuck. You patted and scratched them, earning yourself more wagging tails, a few happy barks, and some excited licks. Looking to the end of the hall you saw someone who you assumed was your evening walking partner. He was kneeling, talking soothingly to a great big senior hound, while clasping the final buckle of their harness. “Hello, uh-, Aemond?” You called out feeling slightly self-conscious.

Still kneeling, he turned his head to look up at you. Any softness in his single eye quickly hardened to match the rest of his sharp features. “Hey,” he said, caught off guard by your presence; someone he’d never seen calling him out by name. “Is there something I can help you with?” Slowly, in a single fluid motion, he stood up and the aged dog kept his eyes on him the whole time, panting happily.

Whoa. He was tall. And, at first sight, incredibly good looking: dressed in casual black clothes, long silver hair tied into a braid, with a scar along the left side of his face that you had to tell yourself not to stare at. His mouth was a unique shape, too, and you weren’t sure if he was merely waiting for a response or if he was smirking the tiniest pout at you. “Hi,” you said again with a nervous laugh. You told him your name. “Arryk sent me. Said you could use some help with the walk tonight?” ‘Play it cool, dummy. He’s really handsome, so what? He could be a huge asshole. Play. It. Cool,’ your inner voice said.

Did he have a mechanical eye beneath his patch? The way he looked at you, then, made you feel like he read your thoughts. “Ah. I could certainly use the help,” he said smoothly with a small curve of lip, turning his attention to the three dogs at the front of the hallway. “Wanna take those three?” He asked, looping the big dog’s leash around his wrist. “I mean, you can have any of them as long as I get this guy. He’s my favorite.”

Your pulse raced a little too fast. Clearing your throat, you smiled in an attempt to ease the butterflies in your belly. “I don’t mind. Why is he your favorite?” You turned and began to unclasp leashes from their doors; happy tips and taps of claws growing louder at the pups’ excitement.

“Reminds me of my girl at home,” Aemond replied, adoration clear in his voice. “Big and old, a little stinky, a little slobbery. The best kind, really.”

“Aw, that’s very sweet. I don’t have any pets. I get my fix here,” you laughed. Holding all three dogs in one hand, you pulled the door open with the other. Except, it didn’t open. On instinct, you tried again hoping Aemond didn’t notice.

He strode up next to you with the rest of the dogs in tow, smirking at you for real this time, as he said, “it’s a push door.”

You knew it was a push door. Fuck. He gave you a knowing glance over his shoulder as he walked out, waiting for you to follow along.

II.

You didn’t see Aemond on Wednesday and you couldn’t deny your disappointment when you left for the night. Come to find out you two had been volunteering at the same place for months – only on different days. He tended to be there Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Monday had been a chance encounter. One you couldn’t shake out of your head.

Before leaving tonight, however, you took a selfie with Aemond’s favorite old hound. You’d exchanged numbers but hadn’t an excuse to strike up a conversation. Yet. Now, with the selfie as an excuse, you opened a fresh text thread and sent him the photo along with:

Someone missed you tonight!

While buckling up in your car and getting ready to reverse out of your parking spot, your phone dinged with an incoming message:

Very cute. Will you be there on Monday? Maybe Cargyll will assign up walking duties again.

Your belly flipped. Truthfully, you weren’t expecting him to message back – especially so quickly. Before you could stop yourself you sent back:

Yup! See you then?

And he sent:

I’ll find another excuse to be there.

Feeling a little bold, you replied:

Excited to see you again! You have these adorable dimples when you smile. Maybe I’ll see those, too?

When nothing came through for a few minutes, you feared you might have gone too far. It was just a little innocent flirting, right? Nothing bad? And then:

Maybe so. See you Monday.

Smiling, you didn’t send anything back. It’d be your luck to say something dumb and rub him the wrong way.

During your first walk, as soon as the ice broke, you both clicked really well. Hopefully – just maybe – things would flow like that again. The connection you felt, something akin to a liveware, couldn’t have been one-sided. He had to feel a spark of it, too; even if just a little.

You drove home, made dinner while facetiming one of your friends from uni, and when she asked about the spark in your eye you told her about your friend Helaena’s younger brother.

III.

“I seriously cannot believe you’ve never seen The Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit trilogy was a little silly, but watchable. But you haven’t even seen that?” Aemond asked clearly aghast at your lack of understanding his reference.

Tonight, you both got walking duty again and neither of you complained. And, this time, he regarded you with a softer look in his eye than his original sharp glance. He was dressed in dark casuals again and you hated (loved?) how good he made them look. His hair was in a bun and his eyepatch stayed firmly in place. You wanted to ask him about it but weren’t sure if you should try it yet. Instead, you rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re making it sound better and better the more you talk about it.”

“That’s because it’s the best.” The dogs pulled both of you along and you had to walk brisker than normal to keep up with them and Aemond’s longer legs. He seemed unaffected by it.

“So, you recommend I watch it?” You asked playfully.

“No,” he started, very serious. “I recommend you read it first and then watch the movies.”

If you had more breath in your lungs you’d have giggled – not laughed, but giggled. Something about the way he said it, and the totally serious look on his face, tickled you. “Will you watch them with me?”

The question appeared to catch Aemond off guard. He looked at you, lingering over your pinkened cheeks and smirking lips, before finally making it back to your eyes. Just when he opened his mouth to say something in reply, a completely unrelated thing stole his attention. Sometime during your bantering you’d made it back to the shelter, and a tall dark-haired woman called out, “there’s my sweet Aemond. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and you haven’t been answering your phone.”

If you thought Aemond attractive, this woman made him look like any regular ol' Joe. She was elegant, warmed by a late summer tan, and had raven dark hair cascading down her back; truly a vision of enchantment. When she sauntered to him and pressed her body to his, you felt like a voyeur watching the embrace.

“Alys,” Aemond breathed quietly. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” she answered as she trailed manicured fingers across the front of his chest.

She had a timeless look to her, the kind that concealed her age. She could have been anywhere from twenty-five to fifty, you thought. You really hadn’t a clue. All you knew, now, is that you should finish your task alone.

Aemond’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Posture tense. “I told you I was busy tonight–”

Before you could stop yourself you cut him off with an awkward wave. “See you later, Aemond.” And, with that, you walked inside before you overheard anything else they might be saying to each other. Turning to glance over your shoulder one last time, you were met with a look of deliberate triumph from Alys; she had the greenest eye you’d ever seen.

It was haunting.

Driving home, you felt stupid. Aemond was just a guy you just met. It was silly to think someone like him would be single and even sillier to think your innocent flirtations would be working on him. You had half a mind to delete his number. Or, at the very least to delete the short message thread of your texts.

Instead of making dinner like you normally did, you called in delivery and facetimed with your friend as you waited. She immediately knew something was off and you were quick to tell her everything that happened.

Twenty minutes passed and you were starting to feel better. It’s not like you two hooked up or even kissed. It was just a chance meeting with playful banter. Nothing to get shook up about. “Food’s here. Thanks for listening to me. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!” You said as you got up to answer the door.

When all else failed, your favorite food could always make you feel better.

Turning the tv on and sitting down amongst your couch pillows and blankets, you were getting ready to dig in when your phone rang.

Aemond.

Your insides did a weird flip and hunger disappeared entirely from your mind and belly. Should you answer? Let it go to voicemail? Turn the stupid thing off and completely ignore him? Right before the final ring, you decided. “Hello?”

“Hey,” he said, immediately sounding relieved. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t yet ready to call it a night with you.”

“It’s no biggie,” you replied. Lying. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything–,” you paused, searching for something else to say to soften the edge of your voice, “–the dogs were getting tired anyway.” God. It sounded stupid even to your own ears.

Aemond sighed through the phone. You wondered if he slid his hand down his face or through his hair. It sounded like he did. “No. Alys is… it’s complicated. She’s my ex and–”

“ –you don’t have to explain anything to me,” you said, cutting him off. “Really. It’s fine.” Despite it being a phone call, you tried to smile as if it would blunt the dismissal of your tone.

“I mean it,” he said. “I really wasn’t ready to say bye yet. What do you say you skip your regular Wednesday night plans and grab a milkshake or something with me?”

Your insides flipped again but for an entirely different reason this time. You knew it: the sparks definitely weren’t one sided. The firm set of Aemond’s jaw and the rigidness of his shoulders flashed once more in your mind’s eye. Since your break up with your long-term boyfriend you’d been on a few dates, but none of them lead to anything worthwhile. With how you and Aemond clicked, however? This date might lead to something more than a hook-up (or, attempt at a hook-up. Some men truly had no game). “Are you sure…?” You asked after a moment. “You and Alys looked pretty comfortable–,”

“ –I’m sure,” it was his turn to cut you off.

“Alright then. Let’s do it.”

IV.

It'd been two months since your first milkshake date with Aemond – the first of many dates. It was a guilty pleasure of yours and apparently one of his, too!

Your first kiss, first time meeting his elder dog, Vhagar, and first time meeting his family were all memories you cherished.

The more you learned about Aemond’s relationship with Alys, the more you understood it "complicated". Including Targaryen drama, Targaryen business, and a list of other things you had a hard time following. It didn’t matter anymore, though, Aemond reassured you. Things were done between them and he only wanted you; proving it to you with fingers and mouth until you begged for a break.

A lesson you learned from your last relationship – one Aemond learned from his, too – was to be careful with love. As much as you genuinely enjoyed him and his company, a barrier stood between you that neither dared yet to cross.

Love.

Each day you fell for him a little more; you were scared to admit it. The scar of heartbreak healed slowly. Could you truly trust Aemond with that part of yourself? With the very essence of your heart? It’d been two months and you still weren’t entirely sure.

If he felt the same he’d say something, right?

Autumn blanketed the lands with brisk air, rainy days, and rolling fog. As days grew short and nights long, you and Aemond spent more time at your apartment or his quarter at the Targaryen estate. Your apartment was the clear favorite. Living alone had its perks: never having to worry about nosy family or friends who showed up unannounced.

And thank God you didn’t live with anyone else.

"Mmh… fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day. I can't get enough of you. Let me make my girl feel good," he said against your mouth as one of his hands moved up the inside of your thigh. "Are you wet already? I bet you are," he chuckled, fingertips tracing your slit. "Mmm… I knew it. Your clit is sooo needy, isn't it?"

Shit. Those hushed words, the glint in his eye, his rasped tone… you happily indulged him in whatever way he wanted. And him, you. Fingers, mouth, cock, he quickly learned what tricks made you melt.

As much as he loved having you ride him, or bending you over, his absolute favorite was fucking you into the mattress. You sprawled out beneath him, hair messy and fanned out around your head, legs wrapped tight around his waist, fingernails on his body… he could never get enough of your blushed face beneath him, trembling and arching as he pushed you to peak after peak.

Your sheets had never been cleaned so often in your entire life.

It was particularly rainy today and you were both finished with everything on your to-do list. Aemond sat on the floor in front of you as you lounged in your overstuffed chair. You told him you'd read the Lord of the Rings as long as he read it to you. He didn't even pretend to be annoyed by your bargain. He read to you from his own collection, claiming he liked the worn feeling of the pages better than a new book's pages.

Like any proper reader Aemond started with The Hobbit. You enjoyed it more than you thought you would. More so than the story, however, you enjoyed him reading aloud to you – he had the loveliest voice. You were about half way through The Fellowship of the Ring and the story continued to get better.

But, all afternoon, Aemond's phone never stopped going off. It seemed like every few minutes it would ping with some kind of notification. "Who's blowing you up?" You asked, annoyance creeping into your tone.

Stopping mid sentence, he looked. "Alys," he sighed as he scrolled through the various messages.

You tried to not look over his shoulder to the texts. You really did. But there was something about Aemond's shift in posture, and the air around him, that made you suspicious. "What's going on?" You asked in your best nonchalant manner.

"She's asking if I have some of her clothes at my place still," he answered and you swore you saw pink spread atop his cheeks.

That caught you off guard. "Why would she have clothes–"

And whatever else you were going to say was abruptly cut off.

There, in a new string of messages, was the single text line, "I miss you, baby boy," followed by at least three photographs of Alys in lingerie and various stages of undress.

"What the fuck Aemond!?" You asked, anger and hurt instantly warming your blood. "What the hell were those? Are you fucking joking?"

"I have no idea why she sent–"

" –is that why she left clothes at your place? Couldn't let her go for real? Jesus Christ I can't believe you." Anger flushed your face and bittered your words.

"Listen, please. Hear me out, bab–"

" –oh fuck off, Aemond, you don't get to 'babe' me around anymore. In fact, just leave."

He looked as hurt as you. And shocked. A hundred emotions played across his chiseled features. "No, really. Let me explain," he pleaded with eye and tone.

You weren't having it. You were cheated on before and he knew it. It made your own hurt cleave even deeper. You really fucking liked him. Maybe even loved him. And this whole time he had you and Alys? "I'm seriously about to get really fucking angry. Leave. Now."

He stood and left. Silent fury screamed around him like a whirlwind. He didn't even give you one final look over his shoulder.

He shut your door with a deliberate click.

You curled up in your blanket alone as fat ugly tears streamed down your face. You couldn't be bothered to grab a tissue for your snotty nose.

Aemond's leather jacket was still draped over the back of your couch and his book still lay on the floor. Your crying somehow turned uglier at the realization.

Eventually you dozed off. With Aemond, you always had your phone on silent so you didn't hear all his missed calls and texts.

The following month went by in a blur; you drowned yourself in work. You also stopped volunteering because you didn't want to give Aemond the opportunity to meet you there. By some feat of strength you ignored all his attempts at talking – and by proxy, apologizing.

The only thing you said to him was a single text:

I need time. Please understand

Part of you wondered how it affected him. His calls and texts became sparse until they eventually stopped.

Helaena asked where you'd been and you felt horrible lying to her. So, you didn't. After telling her the story she sighed and asked if you'd want to grab tea. You agreed. Meeting her at a local cafe allowed you to air out your feelings; laughs and tears alike. She was kind, and sweet, and supportive without being passive. She loved her brother but knew he had many of his own issues. You'd been friends for over a year and this was the first true heart to heart you shared.

Upon returning home you picked up the Fellowship and tried to read from where Aemond left off. But, it wasn’t the same without him and it only made you cry. Again.

VI.

The following morning, despite your car's newer model, it barely wanted to start for your drive to work. By a stroke of luck you made it there fine. And, made it back home that evening, too. But that was the end of your luck. It needed to be picked up and taken to a shop until a mechanic could see it.

Carless, you had to rely on Uber or public transportation. Yuck.

A few days of stress passed and now you were done for the week. Thank God for weekends. Unfortunately your groceries were extremely low and you would need to make a trip in the morning. You sighed and used it as an excuse to order pizza.

After waking up and a breakfast of (the last, and past its sell-by date) packet oatmeal you got around to make the walk to the nearest grocery store. Knowing you'd be walking home, too, the list was small. Carrying bags up two flights of stairs was hard enough, much less carrying them home a mile!

On the way back it started sprinkling. Great. Just great. You started walking faster with hopes of making quicker time than your leisurely stroll to the store. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, you heard your name called. Was that…? Stopping in your tracks you looked across your shoulder to the side of the road and saw none other than Aemond. You knew his car and voice anywhere. You didn't have to see yourself to know a dozen emotions played across your face.

"Hey," he said gently, his own features a mirror of yours.

"Hi," you said.

"Why are you walking in the rain with groceries?"

Slumping your unintentionally scrunched up shoulders, you sighed. "Stupid car died on me and it's been with the mechanic for almost a week."

He smiled softly. So soft. The outside of his seeing eye crinkled and emotion rushed to your chest. Your gut. "You're way too good to be walking alone. Let me drive you home at least?"

You didn't resist. How could you? "Alright. Sure. Just dropping me off though, okay?" Guilt panged your chest. Did he feel it too? Could he read it on your face he knew so well?

"Alright," he answered, expression falling just slight. You might as well have stomped on his foot with how it affected you.

I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. Can we try it again? Can I hold your hand? God I love your hair in a ponytail. You smell good. Did you see the trailer for that new horror movie? I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. It all turned around your head like a fucking rotisserie chicken. It shouldn't be so hard to say any of those things to him. But it was.

You didn't say anything on the short ride home. Neither did he. His right hand flexed a few times and you wondered if he was having a hard time, too.

"Can you get it all upstairs?" He asked as he pulled into an empty spot and parked, looking across to you with horribly concealed emotion.

"Yes, but…," you trailed off momentarily, trying to read his face. "I still have your book and jacket. Wanna come up and grab them?" You asked hopefully.

He killed the engine faster than you could blink. "Yes! So that's where they've been. You could have mentioned it sooner," he said slightly accusingly, grinning at you with a spark of playfulness.

Leading the way upstairs to your apartment, you unlocked the door and disappeared inside. After placing your items down and grabbing Aemond's, you turned to look at him standing in the doorway. He leaned against it. Waiting. Quiet. He glanced around with a wistfulness that made your throat tight. You watched him watching you and your home until the air became awkward – was it half a second, a few seconds, longer? You weren't sure.

Slowly you walked over to him. Your gaze flickered up at him as you handed his things back. "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?" You asked. "Did you think I really wouldn't find out? Why did you stick around if I wasn't good enough?"

He blinked. Taken back. "You never even gave me the chance to explain." His jaw feathered before it tightened. His eye hardened.

You grabbed the door, fixing to close it on him. Now that you started talking – unloading pent up questions which kept you tossing and turning at night – you couldn't decide if you wanted to slam it on his face or yell. "I told you how I was cheated on! And you did it anyway! I trusted you, Aemond." Your voice thinned, sounding shrill even to your own ears.

One of his hands braced on the door so you couldn't close it on him. "So this is your revenge then, huh? Punishing both of us? Why don't you trust me?" Hurt and fury simmered in the lovely hue of his eye. A storm. No, a hurricane. "Alys and I have been done for months. Months. Even before you and I met. I'm sorry for what she did but I can’t control what she does. She was playing her wicked games trying to sabotage us– you and me. Don't shut me out. Please."

He pleaded, every pore and line of his face begging for forgiveness. As each word came off his tongue they clicked into place in your head. He meant it. He was telling the truth. Before you could stop yourself your fists balled into the front of his shirt, pulling him down so your mouth crashed up to his. "You mean it?" You asked through the kiss.

Instantly he leaned down into you, and instantly he held onto your waist pulling you deeper against him. His other hand cradled the side of your face daring to curve along the shape of your skull. "I mean it. Yes I fucking mean it," he answered against the kiss; breath stealing yours away until it left you in a little moan.

You pulled him inside and shut the door, locking it. You moaned as he nipped and bit at your neck. Your heart thumped wildly. He sucked at the sensitive skin, again and again, pulling away just before leaving a mark. "God, Aem,” you whimpered. Goosebumps covered your body. The only thing on your mind was him.

"Fuck, I missed you. I missed you so much." His hands were somehow all over you all at once. His mouth trailed, and dragged, and kissed over any exposed portion of your skin. He happily pulled off layers of your clothing to expose more and more of your soft, warm, saccharine flesh; intoxicating him. After weeks of your separation the last thing he wanted to do was to push too far too fast. “Can I take this off?” He asked before taking your shirt off.

“Yes,” you replied breathily. “Fuck it. Take all of it off. I missed you too. So much,” you said as you helped pull his clothes off, too. He pushed you against a wall. You kissed. Heavier, and hotter, and hungrier. You pushed him against a wall.

He gasped as he smirked. “I love when you act all tough when we both know I can have you squirming under me in minutes,” he growled, pupil swelling. The dimples at the very corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement, however, as he once again pushed you against the wall. You were both only in your underwear, now, and his lean body on yours had you aching. “My tough girl… how quickly do you think it’ll last when my fingers are in you?”

“Why don’t we find out?” You asked defiantly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t last long at all. By now you were both down the hallway and your bedroom was only a couple feet away. You needed him. Now. And judging by how fucking hard he was he needed you too.

The next moment went by in a blur and before you could catch yourself you were sprawled out on your back atop your bed. Aemond made quick work of moving you both inside, and made quicker work of pulling your panties down. He groaned as your thighs immediately spilled open for him. He dragged two fingers up your slit and circled your clit with your arousal. “Shit–,” he hissed. “Never make me wait so long to have this pussy again. Do you understand me? Never,” he said as he worked your already swollen clit. He played with it just how he knew you liked it and your cunt’s tiny wet sounds sent his cock throbbing. “Answer me.”

Tension built in the low muscles of your belly. Your legs began to tighten already – one of the tell-tale signs of your approaching climax. How the hell could he push you there so quickly? “N-never! Ahh-h never again!” You replied, voice light, and sweet, and tantalizing as any sin Aemond ever knew. “Please, Aemond, I want to cum…!”

He shoved those same two fingers into you. “Good girl,” he said as he curled those fingers. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine. Give it to me,” he said huskily as he worked them in and out of you. It was sloppy and wet. Borderline obscene. Each time he slammed his hand against you he was mindful to press the heel of his palm against your clit and your mound, knowing how the extra pressure sent your pretty toes curling.

You cried out his name as your eyes clenched shut. The tension in your belly snapped and a wave of glorious bliss washed over you. Sweat sheened between your breasts and along your lip. You arched, quivered, shuddering in the aftermath of his intensity.

Aemond’s mouth crashed to yours and you threaded your fingers through the roots of his hair. It was still in a ponytail and you had no mind to take it out, you just had to pull him deeper into the kiss. He tasted the salt of your sweat and groaned. “Relax your pussy, baby, you’re clenching me really hard. It feels amazing but I don’t wanna hurt you pulling out,” he said tenderly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

“Sorry,” you giggled. “Just feels too good.” You tried to steady your breath and relax as he laid beside you, continuing to kiss your neck and shoulders. When your spongy walls finally eased around him you were sad to feel him withdraw. Stress melted away from your subconscious and you wanted to thank him for the pleasure. You wondered if your eyes said it while he looked at you.

Leaning up, he discarded the final piece of his clothing and sighed in relief as his cock sprang free. He got between your thighs and looked down at you hungerily. “Look at you all doe eyed already. See? I knew you couldn’t stay tough for long,” he said, smug, as he lined up with your drenched cunt. He held one of your legs up against him, and you pressed the other against his side.

When you left for the store this morning you had no idea your afternoon would go in this direction.

He pushed into you. Inch by inch he sunk into you and soon he was as deep as he could be. A moan escaped both of you, and a throatier one left him when his free hand tugged at your bra. It was one that clipped in the front. He popped it open and rocked into you as soon as your tits spilled free. "You're so sexy like this."

With your body already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now with Aemond building a rhythm between your thighs, you weren't going to last long. "You feel so good," you purred, eyelids heavy. "Fuck I missed you."

Another sound left his chest and when you wrapped your legs around his slim waist you swore you felt goosebumps pebble all along his skin. Or, maybe those were your goosebumps on your legs. Whatever the case, Aemond leaned forward and kissed you again. "I missed you too," he rumbled. "Gonna let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum again?"

You two made good use of your birth control and you weren't about to deny him – or yourself – the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked and stuffed. "Y-yeah," you stammered, smiling.

Aemond mumbled something incoherent into your neck, and if your brain wasn't foggy from his perfect fucking cock you might have caught what he said.

He leaned up and supported himself on his forearms, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're my girl. You're my fucking girl. You're my fucking girl," he repeated again and again until the pace of his thrusts grew sloppy. Somehow the sloppiness of it, the neediness and urgency of his voice, sent emotion swelling in all of you.

Heat collected and grew out from your spine, webbing throughout your entire body. You clung to him desperately. You rolled your hips up into him and shamelessly grinded your clit against his pelvis as he drove in and out of you. It was all too much. You crumbled beneath him and let orgasm take control of you. The depths of your body squeezed and convulsed around him, holding him tight and soaking the fullness of his length with your slick. He never stopped or paused his thrusts.

His own peak followed. Once he was as deep as he could be he released everything he had into you. He stayed there, both of you panting through little moans, until he no longer twitched between your stretched walls. Slowly, he pulled out, and slowly, his seed dribbled out of you. Grinning, he rolled onto his back and scooped you against him.

"Let's stay here like this all day," you mumbled happily, fingertips trailing up and down his abdomen and chest.

"You'll get no argument from me," he said.

Quiet minutes passed and the sound of his heart nearly put you into a trance. "I'm sorry for how I acted," you finally admitted.

All the while he'd been petting and trailing his fingers through your hair. He didn't stop as he answered, "and I'm sorry for not trying harder." He kissed your forehead and held you tighter.

"Let's try it again. For real this time. With the titles and commitment and everything."

"Are you asking or telling me to be your boyfriend?"

You smirked. "I'm suggesting."

Returning your smirk, he pulled you atop him so you could straddle him. "You're all mine," he said with a dark eye. "My perfect girl."

Leaning down, you kissed and nipped his bottom lip. "Are you already hard again, Aemond Targaryen?"

A chuckle rumbled somewhere in his chest as his touch dented into your hips to hold you at just the right angle. With a roll of his hips he pushed himself up inside you again. "Whose cock is this?"

You gasped, eyes darkening with another round of lust. "Mine."

"That's right. Yours. Not anyone else's. It's fucking yours."

You rode him until your tits were covered in fresh hickies and you were filled with another load of him.

Yours. His. The second chance you both needed.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @dreamsofoldvalyria @chompchompluke @fan-goddess

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @sahvlren @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @okfashionista @avidreader73 @snh96 @boofy1998 @evermorre

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #modern aemond #aemond smut #aemond fic #aemond imagine #request

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l0starl · 1 year ago

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𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋

౨ৎ featuring - Miles 42 x reader

-> synopsis - Snow ball fight with miles!

꒰ 🥥 ꒱ؘ warnings - if your allergic to cursing, I guess don’t read 🤷🏾‍♀️

ᯤ Author’s note - New writing style + Have a merry Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, and a happy new year!!! And if you don’t celebrate those, I hope you have a nice day and spend time with family ^_^

You and your friends + miles all agreed to a snow ball fight, it was all fun and games till everyone started getting competitive…

Hiding behind a snow built wall, you peaked your head out to see if anyone was out in the open, yet there was no one in sigh-

“Shit!” Someone yelled, seems like they got ambushed

Peaking out your head once again to see who it was, to your surprise it was ganke, taking the walk of shame back into the house

Taking this chance to ambush the person who took out ganke, you paused before you made your move.

“Something’s off” You muttered to yourself, being high alert of your surroundings, But it was too late, footsteps approached rapidly, as their boots hit the snow below, as you turned around, miles was right behind you, ready to strike

“What’s good, mami?” Miles spoke in a mocking way

“Geez don’t scare me like that!” You huffed, crossing your arms

“So, you ready to accept defeat? There ain’t no where to run, unless you wanna end up like Ganke” He sneered

“I’m not gonna lose to you!” You scoffed as you throw snow at him

He grabbed your arm to halt you, “Nice try guapa, but it’s over” He smiled

You broke free from his grasp, sighing in frustration “If I’m gonna lose I might as well get a head start at running” You suggested

“Alright then, you’ve got 8 seconds, starting now” he replied

You lifted yourself as you sprinted, your boots hitting the snow with a soft faint hissing sound

You know your friends aren’t out yet, so maybe he’s saving you for last..?

You duck behind a tree, sure it’s not the smartest, but hey! You only had 8 secon-

A abrupt yelp snapped you right out your thoughts, you peak out from the tree, your friend Tasha got ambushed with snow near her snow fort

She went back inside the house with a scowl, though who could blame her?

All your friends are out, meaning…..

It’s just you..

But miles is no where to be seen, keeping your guard up, you move from your position near a snow fort Tasha built earlier

A familiar set of footsteps approached rapidly From behind you, though you didn’t get the chance to turn around

“Gotcha once again” Miles smiled

“Man this shit ain’t fair!” You hissed

“How about a 1v1 then? Whoever wins, gets the person anything they want, deal?” He suggested

”Deal!” You beamed

Grabbing the nearest snow, you just quickly roll it up to throw it at him

Miles being taken aback, not prepared for the attack, soon after fires back, but he ends up losing.

“Alright fine, you win!” He grabbed your arm forcing you to halt “There you win”

“That means you have to get me anything I want!” You cheered

“Alright, what do you want then?” Miles questioned

“Maybe hot Chocolate, you free tomorrow?” You responded

“Alright, bet!” He replied

‼️ Thanks for reading :3 Before you go! Check out the hot chocolate fic, basically the continuation of this ‼️

‼️ Hot chocolate fic ‼️

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wonder-kid-pugh · 2 years ago

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In the Eye of the Beholder - Alexia Putellas x reader

Hey guys! So I was recently inspired by my trip to Spain. I spent the day in Barcelona and I even went to Camp Nou so I was really excited and inspired to write for Alexia. But yeah I have an idea to turn this into a small series if you want. But this was kinda rushed so I'm sorry if it wasn't the best. Anyways hope you enjoy!

Alexia was exhausted.

Which is understandable. Ever since her return from injury it seemed like she didn't get a moment to herself. Everyone wanting to talk to her about her return from one of the most grueling injuries in women's football, especially at such a crucial point in her career. (Her absence from the Euros was still tough for her to talk about but unfortunately it came with the territory).

With all her media obligations and then her also captaining the team while also working tirelessly with the Barca medics and physios to make sure she doesn't do anything to possibly injury her knee or anything else.

It was just a bit much in that moment.

She was so overwhelmed in that moment that for a second she couldn't catch her breath. So she did the only thing she could think of. She left for a walk. To where it didn't matter she just needed to not feel trapped or weighted down right now.

She wanted to feel the air on her face and to just walk about the place she loved.

Alexia left so quickly that she didn't even think to bring Nala. Alexia wincedly lightly knowing that Nala would have loved to go for a walk right now. Deciding that she would have to apologize with a few extra treats, Alexia kept going knowing there was no point going back now.

Alexia didn't know how long she had been walking for before she realised where she was. She signed tiredly as she ran a hand through her hair as she could see the stadium a short distance in front of her.

Even when she tried not to, her mind always wondering back to work.

She turned to start heading back to her apartment but was stopped when she smacked right into someone.

She eyes widened as you let out a small shriek and dropped your things.

"Ah damn it!" You mumble under your breath as you bend down to collect your things.

Alexia shakes her head as she bends down to help you with your things which earns her a smile from you. Which if it wasn't for the fact that her brain was still trying to play catch up, would have stopped her in her place.

You swiftly and messily gather all your belongings up again, gratefully taking the notebook from Alexia when she held it out to you. "Thank you" you answer in surprising perfect Spanish for someone who was just speaking English just a moment ago.

The two of you straightened up as you make sure you have everything before giving Alexia your full attention. "I'm so sorry!" You apologized sincerely. "I wasn't really paying attention and I really didn't mean to walk into you". You rubbed your neck sheepishly as you realise your rambling to this poor stranger. "I'm looking for Camp Nou?" Your blush worsens, "I'm kinda lost"

Alexia couldn't help but chuckle. Finding your shy nature and darkening blush adorable. "Not completely" Alexia reassured as she nodded her head in the direction of the stadium. "You're close. It's just down that way".

You let out a sigh of relief as your shoulder relax the tiniest bit. One being for finally finding the stadium and two being thankful that the pretty stranger you crashed into wasn't angry with you.

"Thank god" you answered smiling at the stranger. "Honestly I didn't think it would be this hard to find a massive stadium".

Alexia laughs sharing a smile with you. Not quite ready for the conversation to end, Alexia once again nods her head towards the stadium. "Would you like me to walk with you? Just to make sure you get there?"

Your eyes light up with something Alexia couldn't quite recognise. But she liked how your eyes shone at the simple offer of kindness. It was only then she realised how blue your eyes were. For a second she swore she could have been looking into the sparkling crystal clear water with how bright they were.

"Really? You wouldn't mind? I'm sure you have better places to be…"

Alexia cleared her throat silently wishing you hadn't catch her staring at your eyes. Alexia nodded her head with a smile, "No it's okay. Honestly I have nowhere to be. I was just wondering around to be honest".

"Well if you're sure…yeah that would be great. Thank you" you thanked her with a smile. And for Alexia that was enough for her.

Alexia gestured the way for you to begin walking. "So why are you looking for Camp Nou? Are you a fan?"

You bit your lip timidly as you looked around almost as if to check to see if anyone else was listening. "Not exactly…can I tell you a secret?"

Alexia quirked an eyebrow. She didn't know whether it was because she herself was quite secretive about her own personal life or whether it was the fact that they didn't even know each others names that she was surprised at that.

"Sure" Alexia chuckled at the simple idea of her sharing a secret with her. But she also couldn't help but feel giddy that she was willing to do so.

You bite the inside of your cheek before signing, seeing one of the many shops selling Barcelona merchandise. "I'm not a fan. Of football in general really. I just never took an interest in it" you answered honestly, your eyes not meeting Alexia's.

Alexia's eyebrows furrowed a bit. "Then why are you going to the stadium?"

You held up the book that Alexia had helped pick up for you. "Well I'm an artist. I got asked to do a mural for the team but I have no clue when it comes to football. So I thought I would take a tour of the stadium and hopefully get some inspiration for it as well as maybe learn something".

Alexia was in awe of the commitment. She imagined that most artists would just look them up and just start away. The fact that you wanted to take time to go learn more about the club. Her club in fact warmed her heart.

It showed how passionate you were as well. The fact that you didn't even know much about Football but you still wanted to make sure you did it justice.

"That's a good idea" Alexia smiled. "I can tell you love what you do".

You blush lightly as you duck your head in modesty. Wanting to get the attention off you, you turn it back to her. "What about you? Do you like football?"

Alexia pursues her lips at the question. It was obvious that you didn't know who she was. You didn't know she was Alexia Putellas. La Reina. Captain of Barcelona and Spain. She was just…a person.

Maybe it was better like that.

"Oh. I love Football" Alexia answered honestly while grinning sheepishly. "Maybe a little too much sometimes".

But you just chuckle, raising an eyebrow, "Barcelona?"

"Till I die" Alexia answered honestly. Which was the truth she couldn't ever imagine not playing for her club.

You hum as the two of you stop in front of the stadium entrance. "Have you ever taken the tour before?"

Alexia gives you a small smile. The last time she had probably taken the tour was years ago. Back when she barely understood the rules of the game. Back when her father was still trying to explain the game to her.

"A long time ago yes"

Your eyes flicker up to the massive stadium before grinning at the stranger in front of you.

Alexia couldn't stop the laugh escaping her. "What are you planning?"

Your eyes gleam playful with a hint of mischief in them. "What?" You play innocent faking hurt. "I don't know what you're talking about…"

Alexia rolled her eyes looking at her knowingly. "I know that look. My best friend always gets that look when she's up to something".

You just grin. "She sounds like fun".

Alexia rolled her eyes but she couldn't deny it as she nodded. "She is. Now what is it?"

You pursued your lips before sighing. You guess it couldn't hurt to ask. "It's just…" you start but continue when Alexia nods on encouragingly. "Just you seem to know a lot about Football and you support Barcelona and I know practically nothing so I was wondering…would you like to do the tour…with me?"

You couldn't even look Alexia in the eye. This poor random stranger which you first of all crashed into, and probably ruined her perfectly enjoyable walk, and who knows nothing about you and you just asked her to give up her day to explain Football of all things to you.

You face flows red and starts to darken but can't seem to stop yourself. "I mean! I would pay for you of course! That's if you want to. Which you probably don't. Which it perfectly fine! I'm sure you have way better things to do than just talk to me about football of all things…"

You so desperately wish you could cramp all the words back into your mouth. So much so you didn't realise how widely Alexia was smiling at you.

You only stopped when you felt soft hands grab yours.

"It's okay. I would love to" Alexia smiled reassuringly. She gave you a quick squeeze of the hand just to make sure. "And you don't need to pay for me it's okay. But I have one condition to being your Football Coach/Teacher".

You raise an eyebrow amused. You held your sketch book close to your chest with a smile. "Oh yeah and what's that?"

Alexia smirks and you swear you nearly dropped all your stuff again. It was by far the sexiest thing you've ever seen. "You have to promise to be a life long supporter of Barcelona and you can never ever become a Real Madrid fan".

"Who?"

Alexia smirked as she pointed at you, "Exactly". She offered her arm with a smile, "Shall we?"

The two headed inside, Alexia being conscious enough to steer you away from any direction of posters with her face on them. It was a lot easier when the two of you had gotten inside. However, when she had gone to pay, the staff had nearly blown her cover before she quickly shushed them. Thankfully you didn't notice the interaction as you had already paid and was off looking at some pictures.

Alexia had just came over and joined you when you turned to her with a bit of a sheepish smile, "I just realized that I didn't even introduce myself before asking you to spend the day with a total stranger".

Realising how bad that sounded you physically grimaced before offering a hand. "Well I'm Y/n just so you know".

Alexia instinctively shook your hand but paused briefly. "Ale" she said simply. Honestly she didn't know why she didn't tell you her name. Technically it wasn't a lie. Her friends and loved ones called her Ale. But she found herself hesitant to tell you her actual name.

It wasn't because she didn't feel comfortable with you. Cause in actual fact she had felt more comfortable with you in the 10 minutes you knew each other than with some of the people she's met for work.

But Alexia had a small feeling it was because of how normal she felt with you. As selfish as it was she didn't want to ruin it.

For one evening she didn't want the stress that came with her life. For one evening she didn't want to be the Barcelona Superstar. She didn't want to be Alexia Putellas.

So for the evening she was just Ale.

When you said you knew nothing about football, you really knew nothing about Football. Which Alexia only really realised when she had to explain basic rules of the game. L

But she really enjoyed it.

She enjoyed getting back to the basics of the game. Remembering how her father use to explain it to her.

She also loved how cute your face looked all scrunched up when you didn't understand something. Or how you lit up when you finally understood it.

But Alexia gave you an indepth insight into the club. Talking about key players they had throughout the years. The playing style they were known for. Different coaches and captains the team had and their impact on the club.

Alexia found that you found Johan Cruyff extremely interesting and his dedication to the club. "Huh I guess he bled pure blue and red then".

Alexia did her best to steer you away from anything talking about the women's team as much as it pained her not to show the teams successes. Which was surprisingly easy as you were so busy looking around while also doing quick sketches in your book and writing stuff down.

"I didn't know that one club could have so much history behind it" you said in awe as you started to leave the museum part.

Alexia just chuckles. Thankfully it was quiet enough that there were only a few people doing the tour as well so she hadn't been recognised. She was also thankful that she at least grabbed a cap before she abruptly left her apartment which she used to screen her face a bit from fans.

"Yeah I suppose" Alexia hums but freezes when she is faced with an Alexia jersey in front of her. Alexia bites her lip as she keeps her head down and moves towards the exit.

"Ale? Is everything okay?" You asked concerned carefully putting your hand tentatively on her shoulder in case the action wasn't wanted. But thankfully it had the desired effect when you see how Alexia untenses the tiniest bit.

Alexia nods a little stiffly but forces a smile. "Yeah. Yeah I'm okay just I really want to show you something".

You just nodded and if Alexia wasn't so focused on getting past the fans without noticing, she would have noticed how she took your hand unconsciously to try and move quickly and quietly past everyone.

And if she had looked back she would have noticed how your face had taken a red flue to it.

Alexia quickly moved through the stands and the away team dressing room which you were perfectly fine with not having much interest in them.

Then you felt the air knocked out of you.

"Wow…" you mumble as you and Alexia step out on to the pitchside. Alexia had to pursue her lips when she saw how you did a full 360 spin to take in the full stadium. But she ultimately failed as a smile slipped through along with a giggle.

You plopped right down on one of the sub bench seats right beside Alexia leaning back against the comfy seat.

"Could you imagine playing here? Having a sold out stadium with everyone's eyes on you? Thousands of people paying just to come watch their favourite player?" You ask hypothetically. But it just makes Alexia laugh as she smiled.

"Yeah…" Alexia smiled at you as you continued to look out at the field.

"What do you think it feels like?" You ask curiously not knowing that Alexia has already experienced playing on this very field. "To be out there on the field for a game?"

Alexia looks at you for a second thinking maybe you did actually know who she was. But shakes off the thought as she thinks for a second. "I think it's nerve racking" Alexia answers honestly.

Alexia now had your full attention. You look at her tilting your head slightly. "What do you mean?"

Alexia hums thinking back to when she played in Camp Nou. "Well I think it's nerve racking really. Having to worry about playing well. Not wanting to disappoint anyone. Your teammates, your fans, your club. Not wanting to mess up". "Having all those eyes on you from the moment you step on the field not wanting to mess up" Alexia answers honestly but then concedes. "But I do also think its amazing. Having a sold out stadium full of people who came to watch and support you. To see all these players who want to grow up and be like you".

You hum before smiling and nodding. "Yeah. I guess when you put it like that yeah it sounds stressful". You hum thoughtfully, "I kinda get it though. To a certain extent".

You sigh when you see Alexia motion for you to explain. "Well when I paint I guess. I mean don't get me wrong it's what I love to do. But when you're showing someone your work you're kinda putting a bit of themselves in front of you".

You let out a little smile but Alexia can see the hurt in your eyes. "And then you have to be ready for them to tear it apart in front of you".

Alexia bites her lip wondering if she would be overstepping. "Sounds like you're speaking from experience…"

You let out a little humorless laugh. "Well let's just say that my parents are too happy about my career choices". You had said it with a light tone but Alexia noticed how hard it was to talk about, not even able to look at her. "We would have much preferred if I got a more 'stable' job".

Knowing that this was obviously something that wasn't easy for you to talk about, Alexia knows she should tread lightly and maybe just move on.

But she couldn't leave it at that.

"I'm sorry about that" Alexia said gently before she gave her hand a small squeeze. "But as long as you're happy and you're doing what you love. Isn't that what matters?"

You didn't say anything and for a second Alexia feared that she had majorly overstepped. She was about to pull away her hand but was stopped when you held it firmly, "You're right". You flashed her a wide smile, "Thanks Ale".

Alexia felt herself shiver at the way her nickname fell from your lips. But she pushed through it and smiled back. Not trusting herself to answer back steadily.

After they left the field they went to the top of the stadium. Albeit with a few groans and moans from you asking how many more stairs there were. Alexia watched silently how you were amazed by the view. Imagining how cool it would be to see everything that was happening from the top stands.

Sadly for the both of you the tour was over soon after that despite both of you trying to stall. Alexia walked you back out to where you had first met. More like crashed into each other. Careful to avoid any of her jerseys or pictures in the stadium store and the posters on the stadium.

You rocked on your heels as you looked at Alexia. "To be honest I wasn't really looking forward to the tour" you gave her a bright smile. "But I actually had a lot of fun today. And I'd say I have you to thank for that".

Alexia grinned as she spotted the small blush tinting your face. "Well I'm glad I could teach you about the greatest football team in the world".

The two of you share a look before you fall into giggles. You bite your lip wanting to stay longer but you can see how late it's getting and you've already taken up Alexia's day enough.

"I better getting going" you sigh, looking at your watch. "I've taken up enough of your day".

Alexia smiled, "Actually I think I needed it. I had fun today".

You smiled brightly, "Well I'm glad I could help then". Neither of you know what to say.

Your just about to turn to start walking away when you stop yourself. As much as you didn't want to part with it, you rip out a page from your sketchbook and quickly scribble down something on the back of it and hold it out shyly to Alexia.

"I…I wouldn't normally do this but…" your face darkened red. "But I had a lot of fun today so uh here".

Alexia takes the paper and looks at it with a small smile when she realizes it's your number.

"For if you ever want to waste the day away with someone again" you shrug trying to act nonchalant about it but you both knew you were well past it. "Or not. It's completely up to you if you use it. Absolutely no obligations". You started walking backwards clutching your sketchbook to your chest biting your lip. "But I really hope you do".

You really tried not to look back but you couldn't help yourself. You waited until you were just about to turn the corner only to smile when you saw Alexia still watching you. You shot her a wink before disappearing out of her eyeline.

Alexia pursued her lips trying to stop herself from smiling like an idiot. But when she looked at the piece of paper with your messy scrawl on it, it was very hard.

She goes to fold the piece of paper to put in her pocket but stops when she sees something on the other side of the page. She flips it over and is surprised to see a small sketch of her.

It seems that the tour wasn't all you were focused on.

The sketch was of her standing on front of a Barca crest. When you had seen her looking at the frame you couldn't help yourself. The light shining down on the design was reflecting onto her giving her this glow. You captured her side profile extremely well. She swore if it wasn't for the fact she knew it was drawn in pencil, she would have thought it was a picture straight off a professional camera.

It was something she was definitely going to cherish.

She reached for her phone to save the number but groaned remembering that she forgot that she had left it at home to get away from all the stress of work. So she quickly made her way home not wanting to lose the number.

But as she's walking home she realizes how much lighter she feels. Before she had felt like this weight had been on her chest making it hard for her to breathe. But now it was gone. All that stress had seemingly disappeared.

You had done that.

Alexia smiled the whole way home. Thinking about what she would text you when you got home.

#alexia putellas x reader #Alexia Putellas imagines #Alexia Putellas imagine #Barcelona femini #alexia putellas segura #alexia putellas #maybe a part 2.....

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dolliestfairy · 2 years ago

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𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝐶𝑎𝑛 𝐹𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 ๋ 𝆹 ׅ ✧୧

Ghost & Konig React to meeting a Chubby!fem!reader who is a Fawn Fairy 🧚🏻‍♀️

this 3 picture above is made by @fairydxlll on pinterest ᖫྀ 𔓘

୨. ⊹ quick explanation : the fem reader in here is explained having a fawn ears, a plus size body, and a fairy wings :) reader skin color is not announced. readers also located/found in some whimsical forest 🦋𔓘

୨. ⊹ Content Warning : fluff, tiny tiny tiiiny angst ( sad kidself konig) Isolate/gatekeep. a little spice in ghost part, (broken) germanic in konig part 💀 also a kinda broken english. just a silly little fanfic of mine. this fanfic is a fantasy sprinkle on a military genre. rushed fanfic. kidself konig obsessed with you<33 just two big buffy military men falling in love with a non-human female reader.

Enjoy ᖫྀ ‹𝟹

• Simon Ghost Riley

The first time he sees you flying with fairy wings and a fawn-like ears in the middle of the forest he thinks himself crazy, he thinks he have been hallucinating. maybe its the effect of War, theres no way this type of creature is real, he must be crazy. so the first time he sees you, the next day he tried to avoid you, trying to act like you're a Ghost, you're not exist. because you're a distraction. a distraction that keep him from focusing on his duty. yet, everytime he sees you, even if it was just an accident or coincidence, he cant keep his eyes off you, you're just so.. ethereal. you're too beautiful to be exist in this humiliating world. so then he tried to communicate.. with you. he try to give you something that maybe a fairy would love, a flower, a butterfly, even a poem or a love letter, and hell, he even buys a fairytale books for 2 or 3 just to know anything about what fairy like and dislike, and after a while, he manage to get close enough to you in face to face. the first thing he said to you after he manage to get close enough to talk to you was "You're the Most Breathtaking Creature i've ever laid my eyes on." he would try his best to keep anyone or everything that is harmful away from you, he knows you're a precious creature, if the world knows anything about you you'll be hunted across the nation for everything you had. so he's going to gatekeep you. i just hope you're not gonna be bored meeting him everyday and talk to him literally everyday until his last breath. and one of the features you had that ghost really love is your fawn ears and your chubby body!!. he thinks its an unique but also a very cute combination with your fairy wings and your chubby body. if he's feeling moody he's gonna play with your ears or your belly, and not to mention he's gonna humiliated those two in bed 😏.

• Konig

Shocked. the first time he sees you flying??? oh my god he's on a wrecked emotion!! he doesnt know how to feel honestly, but its also brings the kidself out in him. he was just overwhelmed by the fact that he's just see a fairy with a fawn ears flying literally right in front of him!!, so after he sees you, you went run from him and so you dissapear. his kid self that was out before is feeling kinda sad and neglected by the fact that you're gone :( but his adult self is kinda not believing what he was just witness, like ghost, the adult self him kinda thinks that maybe he's just hallucinating. but unlike ghost, the next day, he's going to go to that place where he met you just because 1.) the adult him wants to be confirmed by your existence and 2.) His kidSelf is literally begging, screaming, and shouting at him to make him go and meet you again. so when he go to the place where it was at the middle of the forest, he look around and he sees you.. peeking through the woods tryna seeing him, and once he recognize where you are and what you were doing, again, his kidself is IMMEDIATELY out of his body, and this time, he wasnt gonna let you go. he's literally chasing you. and of course its scared you not to mention his big bear figure. so the second he start chasing towards you, you immediately flying forward him and start dissapearing again. this is making konig once again really sad, espesially, of course, the kid in him. the adult self on him is actually kinda happy because turns out you're truly exist and now he's gonna try everything to make him get close to you, and like ghost, he also buys a fairytale book to know anything about fairies like and dislike, but unlike ghost, he isnt buy 2 or 3 pieces of fairytale books, he buys like THOUSANDS OF THEM like its not even funny cus both his kid self and his adult self is both determinated to get close enough to you, and you witnessing everything they've been done to get closer to you and after you confirmed that they werent as harmful as they look like (well not towards you) you decided to give in. (yass our dainty konig princess is getting his own chubby fairy friend! <33) and it makes his kidself sooo happy like everytime he sees you, the one that talks to you was almost him, not the adult konig. and the first thing he said after he manage to get close enough to you was "I Promise no harm will come to you. I promise I will be your Soldier Just for you mein kleines Reh." [mein kleines Reh : my little fawn/deer] and you know he meant it. & if he doesnt have any duty or if he wasnt on the battlefield hes going to waste his time by talking to you, and let me tell you, he was sooo happy while doing so, and just like he promises, he kept you safe from everyone or everything that is harmful, and just like ghost, his favorite part of you was your fawn ears and your chubby body, his adult self love the curves on your body while the kidself on him LOOVE almost EVERYTHING parts of yours. your fawn ears, your beautiful curves and your beautiful fairy wings, your doe eyes, EVERYTHING. he loves you so much and he will try everything he had left to keep you safe and away from anything that is harmful.

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bteezxyewriter12 · 9 months ago

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Text Disaster

Pairing- Hobi x Named Reader

Word count- 3.2k

Includes- Oral, pussy eating, cum eating, dirty talk, cock riding, squirting, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Hobi Masterlist

J POV

"I haven't done blonde in awhile and ARMYS liked it last time so I figured why not?", he says

I nod, smiling at him, "It's light this time though. But still looks good"

He laughs, "Thanks. It was like a neon yellow for the butter video but it washed out and I'm left with this"

"I like it a lot", I compliment, my cheeks heating up

God, I'm so fucking bad at flirting

Especially when it's Hobi

He's just so... gorgeous and he makes me nervous

Even though I've known him for a few years now

Through my best friend Namjoon

Namjoon said the guys were going to a bar to hang out tonight and asked me to come

Apparently the guys were bringing friends

Hobi and I both wanted a drink so we went to the bar together

He got his drink while I'm waiting for mine

"Your hair is pretty too", he says, looking at my purple and blue hair, "Like the braid. The colors look cool mixed like that"

I blush harder, "Thanks"

"You're welcome", he smiles, making me swoon at those dimples

Goddamn

I hear my drink being called out by the bartender

"I'll be right back"

He nods

We wandered a bit from the bar to give more people room to order

Squeezing between people, the bartender hands me my drink

"Thanks", I say, then take out some money and put it in the tip jar

"Thanks!", he smiles

I nod, then move out from between two guys

I look for Hobi and when I spot him, my heart deflates

Some girl dressed in super revealing skanky clothes is flirting with him

Smiling, batting her eyes, her hand on his arm as she giggles

And he smirks at her as he talks

I wasn't even gone for two minutes and he's already flirting with another girl

Not that he can't but he made it seem like he was gonna wait for me

And I'm not interrupting them

It'd just be awkward

I'm pissed

Namjoon dragged me here, hyping me up to get with Hobi tonight

Or at least talk him up

I even dressed up

Black mini skirt, red lace tank top and heels

Clothes I had to buy for tonight because I so do not wear this on a regular basis

It was all for nothing

Turning away, I walk to the other side of the bar, sit at a stool and take my phone out

I'm gonna blow up at Namjoon

Why the fuck isn't he answering?

I clearly told him he'd get sex tonight

Normally he'd be at my side immediately

We don't sleep together a lot

Only when one of us is very stressed or angry

Just to get the feelings out

And that's all it is

But he's not answering and I'm getting more pissed

Glancing up, I'm startled when I notice Namjoon across the bar

Engrossed in a conversation with a girl

His phone is on the bar, face down, his hand no where near it

There's no way he got into a conversation that fast

Especially not when I was offering sex

He would not stop to talk to a girl if we were going to leave

So that means I wasn't texting him

If I wasn't texting him, then who the fuck was I texting?

I open my phone and look at the recipient of my messages

And proceed to go into a sheer panic

Hobi

Oh my fucking god, I was texting Hobi all that

He knows

Oh fuck, he knows I love....oh my god I need to get the fuck out of here right now

I need to go home and go AWOL for awhile

Until he doesn't remember this conversation anymore

Fat chance of that

Oh god, I can never hang out with BTS again

I need to go

I stand up from the stool and turn around, my heart jumping in my throat when I see Hobi standing behind me

Oh fuck

I can't do this confrontation right now

We just stare at each other for a few seconds then he comes closer to me

I feel like I'm gonna throw up

He reaches out, his fingers pushing some stray hairs behind my ear

He leans forward and suddenly he's kissing me, his lips so soft, so smooth against mine

I grab onto his shirt to steady myself as my head spins and the ground sways beneath my feet

Oh my god, this kiss is fucking perfect

It's just a simple sweet kiss and it rocks my world

All too soon he pulls slightly away from me, his eyes on mine

"You have no fucking idea how long I've been waiting for you"

I blink in complete shock

What?

Which is what I say

"I thought you'd never notice me"

Is he kidding?

He's all I noticed

"Come home with me?", he asks shyly, then leans closer to my ear, "I'll let you ride me until all your frustrations are gone"

I swallow hard as he pulls back, suddenly smirking and the cocky Jay persona he has when he's in America comes out

I just nod, his smirk widens and he grabs my hand, dragging me behind him

And I follow him so willingly

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

He kisses me hard, his tongue playing with mine as his hands tear clothes off me

He made it to his apartment in record time

Once inside his apartment, his lips have not left mine as he carried me to his bed, laid me on it and got on top of me

I managed to get the buttons of his shirt open while he got my skirt and panties off

Shoving it off his body, I whimper seeing his hard muscles in his chest and abs

Fuck, I just got so much more wetter

He sits up, his hands grabbing the hem of my lace tank top, pulling and tearing it down the middle, the sound of the fabric ripping so satisfying

"Fuck, you're tits look so good in this bra", he murmurs, his hands cupping my boobs over the red lacy bra I wore to match the shirt, "Too bad it has to come off"

With that he lifts me up easily, taking the remnants of my shirt off, my bra following

He lays me back down, his eyes running all over my body, his eyes wide, desire pooling in them

"My god, you're fucking perfect", he murmurs, his hands squeezing my boobs, then running down my body, his fingers leaving fire in their wake

When he reaches my thighs, he opens my legs, his eyes immediately lighting up

"Fuck you're so wet", he says, mesmerizingly, "Is this because of me?"

I nod, "Yes Hobi"

"Is this all for me?"

"Yeah Hobi"

His eyes move to mine, "Are you all for me?"

"Always", I answer truthfully

He smiles, leaning over me, his mouth so close to mine

"I'm all for you Jo. Always"

Then he's kissing me passionately but the kiss is gone as soon as it was there

And his mouth is now pressed against my pussy, his tongue licking rapidly, his voice moaning into me as pure pleasure consumes my body

My hand slides in his blond hair, holding on as his tongue runs along my cunt then slides down and into my hole

I gasp at the bliss, my cunt squeezing his tongue hard, his moans sending vibrations up my spine

"Hobi", I cry

"Fuck yes", he groans, his hands digging into my thighs as he keeps them wide open, "Fuck moan my name baby. God, always wanted to hear you moan my name"

Shit, he wasn't kidding when he said he was waiting for me to notice him

His tongue moves fast, fucking into my hole, the sounds of him eating me out so messily so fucking hot

His mouth sucks as his tongue repeatedly slides in and out, both of us moaning the entire time

His wet tongue slides up then rolls over my clit, intense pleasure running up my spine as I cry out

"Fuck, your pussy tastes so good", he groans, lapping at my clit, "And your fucking clit baby, fuck. Throbbing so hard. Gonna let me suck on you?"

"Yes Hobi!", I yell, in so much bliss

Fuck, he can do anything to me as long as this euphoria stays

As long as it's him doing it

"Mmm good girl", he moans, now using the tip of his tongue to flick back and forth

"Oh god, oh god", I moan, feeling the pleasure building

Pulling his hair, he moans loudly his mouth latching onto my clit and sucking hard

"Fuck!", I shout, looking down between my legs to the completely erotic sight of Jung, Hoseok eating me out

He looks completely at home, like he could just stay there, eating my cunt all day

His eyes move to me, watching me as he continues, his hard jaw moving with each suck

My hips move involuntarily, fucking into his face and he nods, his brown eyes not leaving mine

We move like that together, my legs shaking around his head, my orgasm building and building

I'm so close and the next move of his beautiful mouth has me coming so fucking hard as I scream his name

"Hoseok!"

I can't, the bliss is so fucking good, taking over every inch of me

He sucks me though it, moaning like he's getting blown

When I finish, his tongue moves to my hole, licking away, groaning loudly

"So fucking good. So good"

When he pulls away, he sits up, his face drenched in my cum and juice, making me blush

"Promise I can eat your cunt everyday", he demands

My mouth drops in shock at his words

"Promise baby", he repeats

"I...I promise", I answer

That will not be a problem

None at all

"Good girl", he smirks, sending a shiver up my back

I really like him calling me that

He gets off the bed, getting out of his jeans and boxers

I gape at his huge hard cock

Like really, that is so fucking massive

He just smirks, his hand wrapping around his length, stroking it a few times

"Ready to ride me?"

I blink, "Uh-"

"You said you wanted to ride Namjoon until you're not pissed anymore", he reminds me, "Sorry to say that you're not riding him anymore. Ever again actually. Not as long as you're mine"

I just nod, his words sinking in

This is more than just a one time thing to him

And that makes me so happy

"Whenever you're pissed off and you need to fuck away frustrations, you ride me"

"Ok", I agree, immediately

He nods, moving on the bed, kissing me softly before laying down

"C'mon aegi", he says

I smile and immediately climb in his lap

"There's my good girl", he murmurs, holding his cock up for me

Hovering over him, I move down, feeling his head right against my entrance

"Sit baby"

I push down on his cock, shivers of pleasure running up my spine as his fat dick spreads my cunt around him

"Oh fuck yes", he groans, his hands on my hips, helping me down, "So tight baby. Feels so good"

We are a tight fit, my pussy opening just enough to let him in

My cunt sucks his cock inside me as I move down, each fat inch pushed into me making me wetter and wetter

I have never been in such pleasure just getting a dick inside me

"Yes Hobi", I murmur, moving my hips in a circle to open my cunt more on his dick

"God, you're throbbing so hard already", he moans, his head pushed back into the pillow, "Fuck, you like my cock inside you this much?"

"Yes Hobi", I whimper, as I bottom him out, rocking on his perfect cock, his head in the perfect angle to rub against my spot, "So much"

"Mm I can see that baby", he murmurs, "You're moving on my cock already"

"So good Hobi", I moan, closing my eyes, grinding on him, "Fuck, big cock baby. So big"

I lean on his abs, starting to bounce softly on him, only sliding a little bit up his cock

"Yes baby. Keep going", he urges, as I slip up his cock more and more with every bounce, taking him deep inside, "So fucking pretty for me. Pretty little pussy taking my cock greedily inside her, creaming my cock like a waterfall. Pretty body out for me to watch. And you're beautiful face aegi, feeling so good because of me"

"Mmm hmm", I moan, riding him harder, his cock so deep I can feel him in my stomach

It feels phenomenal

I can hear how wet my cunt is, the squelching sounds mixing with the rhythmic slap of my ass hitting his legs with every move

Sex has seriously never felt this good before

Never

His moans are so pretty, his hands gripping my thighs hard, pleasure all over his face

Pleasure I'm giving him

It's surreal

I keep moving faster, now sliding up to his head and bottoming him out over and over, the pleasure increasing

How does he feel this good?

How?

Each bounce brings me closer and closer, the pressure in my stomach ready to snap

I take him in again, my body thrown into an utterly blissful orgasm, the ecstasy something I haven't felt before

"Hoseok!", I scream, my whole body shaking uncontrollably, "Hoseok!"

I vaguely hear him moaning about how good it feels but I can't concentrate on anything but the pleasure

When I finally finish, I open my eyes I didn't know I closed and look at him

He's gazing up at me in awe, "That was the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen"

I just raise my eyebrow, no longer shy

"And it felt so good too", he smirks

I giggle, leaning over and kissing his soft lips

He kisses me back and I'm in heaven

When we pull away, I press a kiss to the completely adorable and hot as fuck beauty mark on his lip

I always wanted to kiss that

Moving my finger over the mark, I murmur, "I love this. I hate when they cover it up in pictures"

His cheeks blush an adorable red , making me smile softly

I kiss the mark again, then sit up, ready to move on him again

Leaning on his abs, I start bouncing, watching the pleasure on his face

He's so fucking beautiful, his body drenched in sweat, his wet hair plastered to his forehead, his mouth slight open as he breathes

His hands move up my body, slowly touching my sweaty skin, his fingers feeling so fucking good

I move faster on him, his cock feeling so good, spreading me wide open for him

He's so hard, every clench around him feels amazing and I can feel every inch of him

My brain is turning off from the euphoria, my skin trembling

His hands move around my boobs, kneading them as his fingers pinch my nipples

"Hobi!", I cry, my pussy gushing around him as the bliss is turned up

"Mmm so wet baby. Love listening to this little pussy fuck my dick"

One hand drops to my clit, fingers rubbing, making me shout in pleasure

"Yeah aegi", he urges, "Cum for me baby. Wanna feel you gush around my cock"

I whine, leaning over, my hands on his shoulders as I ride him the hardest and fastest I can

"That's it baby", he smirks, "Ride my cock just like that. Fuck you feel so good. Pretty tight pussy so good"

His fingers keep moving as I bounce, his voice so desperate, his skin shivering under mine

He's close too

"Please cum around my cock baby", he begs, "I need to fill you with cum"

God, I want that so much and those words are just the push I need to fall headfirst into my orgasm

"Hoseok!", I scream, stars blasting in my vision as I squirt all over him, clenching on his cock so tightly

"Yes, yes yes baby!", he yells, "Fuck! Joanne!"

His cock throbs inside me, then I feel his warm cum filling me right up

I watch him orgasm and it is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen

He's so ethereal

"Baby", he groans as we finish, pulling me down on top of him

I lay on his shoulder, burying my face in his neck, holding onto him tightly

His arms move around my back, one secure around me, the other running in my hair

"I love you", he says softly

My entire body is shocked as I lift my head, staring at him in disbelief

I had no idea what he felt was love

Lust yes

Like yes

But love?

I didn't think he was there yet

"Don't look so shocked Jo", he says, smiling softly, "You're not the only one who unloaded your feelings on Namjoon"

"Namjoon knew?", I ask, surprised

"That I'm stupidly in love with you? Yeah he knows", he nods, "He told me he would get you to come tonight so I can talk to you. Maybe ask you out if I got the courage to"

Ok that's surprising

But what about that girl?

She swooped in right away and he didn't look for me until after I mistake texted him

"But I saw you with that girl-"

"That didn't mean anything Jo", he says, "She just showed up out of nowhere. I wanted her to leave me alone. The second I was able to get away from her I did. It was actually your texts that got me away from her"

That's ironic

"But you flirted with her"

He shakes his head, "No Jo. She flirted with me. I just smiled awkwardly to try not be rude"

I dunno

Maybe I thought he was flirting because I was so heated

I don't know

"Look at me baby", he says, his hands cupping my face

I raise my eyes to his, seeing the love in them

He really does love me

"How could I ever want anyone but you", he murmurs, "I never could. I don't want any girl but you. You never have to be jealous aegi. Never. I want only you. I love you. You're perfect. My perfect everything"

I can't help the smile that creeps on my face

"I love you too Hobi. You're kinda my everything too"

He smiles widely, his adorable dimples on display, "You have no idea how happy that makes me aegi"

Oh I know because I'm over the fucking moon

"Well this night turned out better than I expected", he laughs

I giggle, running my fingers in his hair, "So much better"

I lean down, kissing his perfect lips, so happy that he's mine and I can have his kisses all the time now

After the kiss, we cuddle into each other, his hand back in my hair, playing with it

"Sleepy time?", I ask

He nods, chuckling, "Sleepy time baby. Are you comfy?"

I nod, snuggling into him, "You're so soft baby. My Hobi pillow"

He laughs, kissing my forehead, "I love you"

"I love you", I answer

Closing my eyes, I lay in my boyfriend's arms, so happy I fucked up the texting tonight

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