#the ivy detail holding her
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9w1ft · 2 years ago
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this right here feels like a god tier clip of taylor.
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look at her!!!
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cottageivy · 2 years ago
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trying to decide if i should go ahead and read the sun and the star now despite not having read the last two trials of apollo books or to just go ahead
#the only stuff ive seen about it is from 2 pjo blogs i follow and listen. love them great posts but also#they do tend to always skew negatively and i love them for it but i also am taking with a grain of salt#bc some of the shit that bothers them i dont really care about lol#again love their blogs thats why i follow but#anyways from what ive seen and i ahvent seen any actual spoilers#but i have seen the fact tah apparently rick disregards the plot of the toa books#which idk if im mad at bc i havent finished them lmao#also something doesnt follow a canon detail but its rick riordan that man does that so many times#also tumblr people despise solangelo and that is their right#im more neutral on them but like i like the potential of them#they just werent developed enough and thats what they use as an excuse but in like a mean way skadaj#anyways all this to say. idk if reading the last two toa books are important#i did read the Big One (burning maze ifykyk) so i wouldnt be spoiled there#i know piper gets a nameless girlfriend in the end that we dont even properly meet at the end of the series#which so true sapphic piper is so real but also thats not proper rep babe#the two lesbians that house leo (and calypso? i cant remember) are better rep#give piper her own book pls#...maybe write it with an indigenous person tho bc uh. we dont want a hoo repeat#IM RAMBLING ABOUT PERCY JACKSON ON MY SIMS BLOG IM SORRY#I JUST HAVE THOUGHTS#i placed a hold on the order on the book at my library and im 23rd in lines#so maybe ill get the last two toa books and read them in the meantime idk#ivy rambles
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nosyrobin · 22 days ago
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||DC X SONIC!READER HEADCANNONS||
Summary: HEY?! A wild blue hedgehog that’s as fast as flash?! WHAT THE—
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Sonic!reader who accidentally travels into a comic universe, dc as a choice and accidentally standing in the justice league HQ. “Uhhh.. meow?” The hedgehog says with a shrug. Immediately the hedgehog is running as quick as the flash? Barry or Wally, whatever you think is the flash at the moment is trying to catch the damn hedgehog. But the hedgehog only thinks of this as a game! Smiling before feeling his legs get caught in a glowing yellow rope.
“State your business and name!” The lady with the lasso says holding the animal up. Sonic!reader spits the truth out by how he has accidentally traveled into this universe. The team didn’t want to believe it, but you were still in the lasso of truth. So you were telling the truth. The hedgehog is already friends with flash, who wants to see how fast the hedgehog can do. And seeing how they both can do speed off and stop time while staying slow, yeah they both are downing food together.
Hal who literally makes fun of the quick hedgehog, that was before Sonic!reader took the ring off his finger so quick, flash laughed with the others. Batman only smiled a little before it quickly gone away.
Superman is gushing over how small the hedgehog is. He can’t help but not take Sonic!reader seriously. Really he can’t take the male hedgehog seriously because of how small and how funny and how they are determined to help people. It’s adorable to the man of steel!
Wonder Woman who adore the small hedgehog as well, after learning the adventures Sonic!reader has done and fought during. Wonder Woman smiles at the hedgehog, Sonic!reader then tells about how they have a female friend that wields a hammer. Immediately Wonder Woman is sat down when Sonic!reader describes the hammer and how big it is. Now Wonder Woman needs to know lore.
Gotham villains hate to see Sonic!reader coming when literally next minute they are in jail or in the asylum. Literally poison ivy and Harley were ready for their plan to succeed. But when they took a step forward, they were already in the asylum with a hedgehog swinging cell keys playfully in a guard uniform. “Already ahead of ya! Bye bye!” Then the blue hedgehog is gone.
The hedgehog being wrapped in a blanket like a baby because he got a bit tried when running. Clark is trying not to cry while holding the hedgehog. “Clark…give me the hedgehog.—" Bruce tries to grab the hedgehog. But the super immediately flies away.
Sonic!reader Who does his idle animation whenever speeding away from danger, mocking them as he wags his finger. “Gotta try harder than that!”
Catwoman having her whip around the blue hedgehog, having him hogtied. Sonic!reader is grumbling like the gremlin they are while catwoman, aka Selina is contacting Bruce. “Bruce..I got a hedgehog that says he’s with you..” “sigh..here I come.”
Barry and Wally just watching Sonic!reader speed around, they laugh at how adorable and excited the house. They Wally speeds over to try and stop sonic!reader who got stuff in a box.
“That’s so crash!” Bart says smiling at Sonic!reader who burned into a empty street with their speed. The fire shows a detailed chili dog. “I don’t know what that means, but yeah!” Reader says smiling and high giving Bart.
Impulse who likes Sonic!reader like a brother. Always asking for races and who can shove most food, but honestly it makes impulse and the flash family kinda disappointed to see that you aren’t really like them as you throw up. You eat for energy, they have to eat or else they die. Impulse still likes you treat you like you are part of the flash family, just like the flash does as well.
“You’re too slow!” Sonic!reader says when speeding pass impulse, aka Bart. Bart smiles at this and zooms to catch up which his new brother figure.
Batfamily vs Flashfamily wanting custody over the small hedgehog.
Bruce just training and seeing how fast Sonic!reader is and his potentials before treating Sonic!reader like son he just picked up. (He basically did) Bruce seeing how childish and smart mouth he can be reminded him of one of his sons, so he just basically “adopted” this small hedgehog.
Dick is just not amused at another speedster, what he is amused that this so called “speedster” is named Sonic and is fast like the flash. Reader just shows up in the manor holding up a chili dog with a goofy smile. “Want one? It’s still hot.” Dick couldn’t help but smile at the adorable hedgehog male and took the chili dog. Only he took the chili dog because he wanted to seem nice
Damian who couldn’t care what you are and who you are. Thought he is amused by how quick you are to have the audacity to talk back to him. He found out your weakness and smirks every-time the face of the hedgehog’s face drops at the word “pool.
Tim basically being DR. Eggman for Sonic!reader but more chill and totally not a villian. Tim just wants to know how a hedgehog is talking and is fast like the flash. Maybe he would pull on your quills to get a sample
Jason just reading the hedgehog books, maybe even bringing a comic book to Sonic!reader’s liking as the hedgehog has an oversized shirt with a goofy ahh smile. “Sup Jay!” Sonic!reader says with a smile. Jason just stays quiet and prays that he doesn’t show cute aggression at this hedgehog ass motherfucker.
Sonic!reader who just relaxes in the Wayne manor, talking to Alfred who just freshly made him some chili dogs. Yeah reader can get use to this.
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kittyfrisk9 · 2 months ago
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IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon/2
Part 1(?)
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
Dead On Main.
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Peace is, without a doubt, a precious commodity.
That was the conclusion Jason came to after a long moment of reflection, observing his cosmic boy: the dream demon who had saved him from that endless nightmare.
They were both in a field covered with flowers in shades of blue, purple and pink, under a starry sky where the stars seemed to shine with an unusual intensity. The same scenario as the last twenty times.
Yes, they had seen each other again. After Jason refused to forget that moment, the demon simply visited him again the next night, without even bothering to hide.
They didn't do much, they just played, had fun and enjoyed sweet moments together, like now, when the demon came up with the peculiar idea of ​​making flower crowns.
However, despite being the one who had the idea, he was the last to finish his crown. Jason found it sincerely adorable how the demon frowned, frustrated at not being able to tie a knot. Her expression was so cute that Jason couldn't help but smile. Sure, he could have helped her, but that would have robbed him of those precious minutes of admiration for him.
He didn't know how much time passed, he just watched and pondered. After all, time in this place was strange.
"I'm done!" Void exclaimed, proudly raising his crown. "Isn't it pretty?"
Jason replied with a simple "Yes." However, he wasn't looking at the flower crown, but at the creator of it. Although Void didn't seem to notice that detail.
"Thank you. It's the same design that Sa-Saiph showed me!" He commented, satisfied.
There it was again. Those little slips of information that Jason had noticed in the multiple conversations they'd had. Jason chuckled; Void wasn't very good at hiding data. He mentally noted it down in the special folder he'd created in his head for him anyway.
Because he'd be a liar if he said he didn't try to find out more about that demon with the information he'd inadvertently given him. Though, to be honest, he didn't try very hard either.
After all, he could see that Void was a nice guy. (And maybe, just maybe, Jason had a little crush on him.)
"One of your friends?" Jason asked curiously.
"Yeah, my best friend," Void replied. "She's a huge plant fanatic. I suspect she's on the level of Poison Ivy."
"Eh, it would be a problem to have another plant invasion," Jason commented, remembering the woman's extremist past. How many times had she invaded the city with her plants?
"Oh no, no, it only happened once, and she was being forced to do it," the demon suddenly stated, as if trying to quickly correct the impression he had given.
"Your friend invaded a city with plants?" Jason asked, incredulous.
"Just once," Void emphasized, as if that made it any better.
What the hell? How had that not reached the ears of the Justice League? Forget it, he decided not to ask. Some things were better left unsaid.
He decided to change the subject instead.
Unintentionally, his vision focused on the hands holding the crown, and then on her arms. The areas on his arms were decorated with a design that reminded Jason of a starry sky, filled with tiny, glowing stars and nebulas against a dark background. It was so beautiful, as if Void's arms were an extension of outer space.
As he looked closer, he realized that some other parts of his body also shared that surreal effect of a universe filled with stars. There were sparkles of light on his skin that seemed to dance with every movement, creating an ethereal and captivating image.
"Your skin… is amazing," Jason said, without thinking. "You look like you're made of stars."
Void smiled, a little embarrassed. "Thanks. I guess it's just part of my nature. I've always loved outer space."
Jason was silent for a moment, enjoying the revelation. "Really? Why?" He asked, genuinely curious to know more.
Void looked at his hands fondly. "I think it's partly because of my older sister. When I was little, she was… gone for a while. It was only a short time, but I was lonely. Then, on a call, she told me that I wasn't alone, that the stars were keeping me company. She said that every point in the sky was a friend watching me." Void then turned his gaze to Jason. "It's a silly story, right?"
Jason shook his head. "No. It's cute." Then, blushing, he added, "I have things I like too for certain reasons."
Void looked at him with interest. "Really? I'd love to hear about it."
However, Jason looked away, visibly embarrassed. "No."
The answer made Void's expression immediately deflate. "Oh, ancients… Why not? Tell me, tell me, tell me!" He exclaimed as he excitedly threw himself at Jason, eager to discover his secrets.
Jason laughed. "Still a no." Then he quickly dodged Void, jumping up and running to avoid being caught. Void, amused and exasperated, chased after him, insisting that he deserved to know.
"Come on! It's not fair!" Void shouted with laughter as he ran after Jason.
Fresh air, laughter, and the feeling of freedom filled the field of flowers. Yes, this was the peace Jason so desperately needed.
As dawn came, Jason woke up. His bed was really comfortable, and the little meetings with his sleep demon were truly relaxing. Jason had certainly had a satisfying month.
Stretching out on his bed, Jason wondered what he should have for breakfast, until he saw him.
He immediately sat up cursing the person creepily standing in the corner of the room: the demon brat, still in Robin's costume and staring at him. "Shit, Damian! What are you doing standing there?"
Damian completely ignored his question and, in a serious tone, asked, "Todd, do you do drugs?"
"What?" Jason frowned.
"You laughed a lot in your dreams," his younger brother said, his expression a mix of curiosity and disdain.
Jason looked at him in disbelief. Had this kid been spying on him all night while he slept?
---
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
One of Damian's hypotheses is that his brother uses drugs. As for Jazz, she had an accident in her parents' basement that injured her arm, so she had to stay in the hospital for a while. Danny felt super lonely without his older sister.
Comment that nobody cares about: I wasn't planning on continuing with this, I know it's poorly written, but inspiration came when I saw this (honestly it's a very weird way to get inspiration)
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spencerscoven · 6 months ago
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the alternate … art donaldson
Art has a proclivity for giving attention to his enemy. He hates her— but particularly hates how she has Patrick wrapped around her finger even more.
warnings ; smut .. slutty drunk freshman art x Patrick's gf, infidelity .. unedited for now! oops!
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It didn’t take much time for Art to settle into Cornell— it wasn’t just the tennis or the girls, of which he quickly learned were rather women, or even the academics. His hesitation on his attendance was especially foolish, especially in moments like these as he rolled over, crushing the red solo up beneath him. The buzzing in his jean pocket persisted, just like it had for the last five minutes before, causing him to utter another affirmation to ignore it into her mouth.
Maybe the women had one or two things to do with it.
"Maybe just get it?"
"Why?"
"So you... can tell them you're busy."
He hummed into her mouth as the girl above him detached herself, moving to grab the stitch of her top to remove it as he tilted his hips to reach for his phone.
Patrick.
His calloused hands came up to push her thighs over his hips, sitting up to read the rapid series of text Patrick had sent. And Art soon saw— was still sending. All of them ranged from different ways of him asking Art to check up on you, letting your attendance be known. Patrick's texts detailed the simple request of him checking to see if you were taking your alcohol well. Another saying he hoped you wouldn't get roofed. And one that blatantly asked that he didn't let any of "those Ivy League assholes" fuck his girlfriend.
Art rolled his eyes, resentment laced in his actions as he muttered condolences and pledged to "be right back", his large hands taking the knob of the door and peering out into the dark hallway to find you. When a look wasn't enough, he left the room door slightly ajar, stepping completely into the hallway filled with red cups, colored lights, almost sidetracked by his team that pulled him by the neck and fought to put a drink in his hand. With a light smile still gracing his face and beer in a can, his eyes wondered up to your face, watching as your lips wrapped around a bottle of Corona, some leaking out the side of which you swiped away with the back of your hand. He felt the same kind of resentment he usually felt when he saw you when Patrick visited fill him from his chest out. He watched as you leaned against the wall talking to someone. He took in your skimpy skirt and top with less resentment, though.
He especially didn't like it when the next time he looked for your face, you were staring at him, eyes hooded and smile nasty and condescending.
"He told me to look for you."
"I know." You raised your eyebrow dismissively, almost wanting to laugh at Patrick's good intentions. He knew what you'd say about Art. Just like you assumed what Art said about you, yet he asked him anyway.
"And by that, he means look after you." Art leans in, lips close to your ear as the music sounded. You roll your eyes as he lingers there a moment too long and you expect him to say something more, but he never does.
"We both know I look fine."
It takes a beat before he responds. "We both do."
"And we both know you don't want to babysit."
"But I'm a good friend."
"I've known corrupt politicians that are better friends than you, Art."
He sways away from you, facing the rest of the party as he rolls his eyes with the kind of insularity he only reserved for you, tipping his head back to finish the rest of his beer and tossing it towards the trashcan, only to miss.
He turns to you, irritation flaring as he stabilizes himself on the sticky wall behind him by holding your hips. It's something you're willing to let go of, your breath clicking as he whispers: "You smell like pot."
"It's a free country."
"Okay," he challenges, pursing his lips as he leans closer. "What's in your cup?"
"What? Yours and Chelsea's not good enough for you?"
His upper lip raises, in a look of both disgust and toleration as he grasps your wrist, forcing you to bring your own bottle to his mouth. The contents of it are mostly able to be swallowed but the rest flow from the corners of his lips, down his chin, to his throat where his Adams apple bobs as he swallows. You wipe it instinctively, causing you to both freeze for only a moment. He shutters before he opens his mouth again to slur,
"Chelsea?"
You look at him quizzically, your mouth opening once, twice, three times, only to say nothing but erupt in laughter that rocks your head backwards and your body closer to his. Art looks around frantically, his mouth tilting downwards as he looks around, grasping your hips forward and gritting his teeth as he repeats himself.
"Chelsea? What's the fucking joke I'm not getting?"
"The girl that you just— my fucking god, Art. I know you look the way you do, but you couldn't even remember her name?" You tilt your head towards the doorway, insinuating the room you're sure his cologne still lingered in. He groans, his head falling forward in a laugh as his right hand on your hip runs up the side of your torso, his head spinning.
"I'm not a very good date, am I?" You can nearly taste the alcohol on his tongue and you're out of laughs, humor gone as a consequence of being so close to him. And maybe he's too drunk to realize it's happening, but you're too cross to care when his thumbs rub circles on your hipbone, of which he had to invade underneath your waistband to do.
"I almost finished my night like this." It's so quiet that you're unsure if it was for you to hear. But it doesn't matter, as your hand runs up his arm and shoulders, eyes following over the ripples.
"This is not the same."
Your other hand trickles down to his waistband, guiltily skating over his bulge as you feel his pocket for his phone.
"Arthur, Patrick told you to check on me. So, tell him I'm okay."
"I told him that I'd check on you. I also told him you were a bad idea, like I always do," He saws it lowly, as if it's not supposed to slip out and has only found it's way because of his level of intoxication. You scoff, pushing him backwards as you're suddenly slightly more sober. You rock back and forth, eyes rolling back, but the distance is not created before you can hear him finish: "but I never said he didn't have good taste."
You don't like that it's still said in the way only drunk and resentful Art could deliver it. "You're not a very good fucking friend."
"To who, you?" He makes it his personal duty to invade your space, his face in somewhat of a snarl. You know that some would see this as uncharacterized for Art, but it's most familiar to you. It feels somewhat like home. Albeit, a house fire, but home.
Your first encounter with him was glancing behind yourself at move in, and seeing his blonde locks brushed back by calloused hands as he looked at you, then to your racket.
Your second encounter was only minutes later, when he stood next to his raven haired friend who asked for your number as he rolled his eyes with a knot in his jaw, as if he didn't find you worthy. He tugged on the shirt of his friend, telling him there were better things to do. Better, he had said.
And that never made much sense to you. Because in your relationship with Patrick, there had always been the inconsequential three.
"You're not my friend," You begin, mind calculating how many rooms and doors of Cornell's largest final club you'd have to go before finding somewhere, anywhere, that would fit just you. "Never was."
Art's only silent for a moment, nose flaring and eyes squinting. his shoulders are tense, and if you were to look down you'd see his hand balled in a fist.
"What? What now, Art?"
"You never gave me your number."
He watches as your eyes furrow in confusion, the heat in your eyes rising rather than deflating. And he speaks again:
“You gave it to Patrick. But you never gave me your number.”
Without your bottle, your hands search for something to do, blinking frantically. They resort to touching yourself in the same places he just had, your fingers running down your torso quickly, your hip bone. When you touch your shoulder is when the two of your gazes meet once again. Art watches through blue as you nod your head slowly in both horror and understanding.
You're quick on your feet. He's watched countless of your matches, even when he had no business doing so. But he is too. So when a short string of curses land out of your mouth and you march down the hallway, he's on your heels.
And all you can think is that you know his gaze better than any other. It wasn't something you intended but through these sporadic games, your body and soul had bargained to be familiar with Art more than any other. If he leaned against the net or lunch table, it became the kind of resourcefulness of movement that was so particularly him. It was rare you called on him, yet necessary when it was a matter of Patrick. He was always there, steadfast and urgent. It'd be days before you learned of the lecture he missed because of it. And while your boyfriend was off being a pro, Art never was slow to tell you how good his female counterparts around him were, while you were "only barely whopping college ass".
But somehow he was always there. You found his gels and handle tape in your tennis bag. You had more than half your dining points still because you were just "a casualty of being present” when he was buying his own lunch. And it all made you feel as if he was just very...
"You're a fucking con artist," You shoved him against the door of which he only narrowly made it "A fucking wolf in sheep's clothing."
It made you even angrier that he was stronger than you but willing to let his body fall back, lips pierced in a thin obedient line as his back hit the door repeatedly under your assault until he grasped both your forearms, holding them closely together. A wince escaped your mouth, his strength relenting and becoming lighter but still he held you. He leaned down, attempting to meet your face that now focused on the hardwood below.
"I know I'm the bad guy. Still, what's it gonna be?"
You didn't look up at that. But you did at the vibration that sounded in his pocket just seconds later. There were always three.
Art doesn't waste a moment to release your arms, wrapping his own in an enclosure around your head to reach your lips, tugging you impossibly close to him. You can't help but not move-- letting him twist your head and invade your lips. It's only until you release a small moan you latch back.
After Art's kiss, your night was haunted. It was distorted beyond your eyes' power of correction. So when a pair of lips landed on yours again, you came back home. You gave in.
His hands ran down your body, invading each and every corner of you. Your hips, your waist, the small of your back, the back of your thighs which he used to hoist your body upwards and against the doorframe, caging you. As the wet kisses sound on your neck, you look past his head to the room you two now occupied, no bed. Just various pieces of miscellaneous covered in cream sheets. When you look towards the window, releasing another whimper as you feel his middle and index finger prod at your cotton panties, you can see dust aligning with the moonlight.
Like everything else he does, he's good at the way he touches you. No, nearly instinctual. Art's fingers curve and level themselves out inside of you, yet he leaves his palms frigid, rubbing your clit back and forth with the surface of it. It makes you all so weak, Art murmuring your name as the two of you lower to the floor, you're suddenly reminded of the urgency of the matter.
"Art, I need--"
"I know,"
I know,
I know,
I know.
He repeats the sentiment into your skin and it almost makes your eyes brim with tears as you feel his bulge covered by denim slot against your soaked underwear. The feeling is delicious, so you excuse your decorum when you buck your hips against his. You watch as he detaches himself from you, the depth of his blonde hair twinkling in the moonlight. His lips and chin are swollen and wet from your messy kisses that appeared to be more tongue than anything. He lifts your hips to remove your skirt on his own once he catches the way your eyes watch him, still. He looks at you, sick with the same fever, but now you're not quite sure what this illness even is.
His hands move to tug your shirt up, yet you push his hands away, making them double up on his belt as both of you scramble to slide his jeans below his ass. You also help him when he leans to grab your right leg, sliding it up and against his hip as he sways above you. You watch as he thinks, only for a moment, places a feather right kiss on your knee, whispers something you can't hear, and promptly shoves his dick inside of you.
The force of it slams your head against the door, the hinges rattling but the surprise of his size makes it so you hardly notice. You close your eyes immediately until you're struck with the realization that you hope this never happens again. You hope you're never drunk enough, or lucky enough to have your boyfriend's best friend's dick rocking you back and forth ever again. You near your eyes open, willing to at least let yourself savor what little you have now, gazing in the middle of you two where you can see him disappear inside of you repeatedly.
Art huffs above you as your name escape his lips repeatedly as if it hadn't been the first time. You find yourself unable to cope, grabbing the hardwood until you realize there's not much give. So you resort to firmly biting his shoulder between your gasps and yelps. which only surges him on to drive into you faster, his hips snapping and the sounds of both your flesh filling the room.
You feel his clammy hand reach for the hair at the nape of your neck and you allow yourself to submissively follow regardless of your confusion. Art's breath mingles with yours as he asks:
"Is it good?"
You don't answer.
"Does it feel good?"
Your brows furrow together as you nod your head up and down as if you’ve been doped, chest heaving uncontrollably. He meets your lips and it feels as if he's kissing you solely for himself as he drags his hand on your cheeks and forehead, ridding your face of your sweat and hair. His other hand circulates your clit with a firm hold and you feel the familiar sensation approaching. Your skin felt both as cold and hot as it ever had, your teeth penetrating your bottom lip, biting Art in the process.
"I don't think we should do this.." You spit out quietly in intervals, because it feels like the right thing to say right before you come all over his cock and he leans down to look at the mess you've made in bliss. The results that it gives are fruitful, as you feel his fingers' relentlessness on your clit still. But you can tell he's struggling to stay where he is, trying to milk every moment he can inside of you.
You use your feet to push his hips back, arms reaching above your head as you untangle your limbs. Your legs remain sprawled out on his thighs, of which lay on his calves. The silence between you two is like molasses, and he stares at your core as you brush your socked toes against his abdomen, then cock.
You see a frown form on his face, but you're also met with the needy repeated rise of his hips that meet your foot and help you grind against him. You watch in awe as his eyes don't leave yours, confusion filling the air. You bring your feet faster, rubbing against his tip and watch as Art's whimper fills the air and his cum shoots to his lower stomach and your sock, his eyes closing, throat repeatedly bobbing as he rides his high. You watch as the thrusts into you become increasingly slower until they stop completely and the two of you are left still once again. You marvel in the way it seems almost as if he always gets what he wants. And Art isn't quite sure of what to make of you at all anymore, with his ears ringing and chest warm.
On his knees, he cascades towards your body that slumps against the door frame. He moves towards you slowly at first, hesitating if you wanted any of this at all. But you don't decline the warmth of his chest as he pulls you in, wordlessly. You let him bury his nose to your scalp as he takes you in.
And you both agree that if this may be a story of tonight alone, you both might as well melt indistinguishably into it once again.
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Hey, neighbor
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Masterlist
Pairing: Jason Todd x (f) reader
Tags: neighbors, close proximity, sexual tension, roommates, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, touching, fluff, domestic
Chapter 3: Spending so much time with Jason in close proximity is distracting. Poison Ivy breaks into the safe house and kisses you with her toxin, knowing you'll do whatever she tells you. And what she tells you to do...
You woke up in a strange place, disoriented and confused. You took in your surroundings: a loft with exposed brick walls, minimalist furniture, and a cleanliness that felt almost military. The events of the previous day crashed into your mind like a tidal wave, and your heart sank. The vial, the body, your formula. Guilt and fear twisted inside you.
You sat up, wearing clothes that weren't yours—an oversized t-shirt with a Guns N Roses album cover on the front and sweatpants, both too big for your frame. Red Hood had given them to you last night. You remembered his voice, calm and authoritative. You were in his safe house, you remembered. Hiding from the world that might condemn you for murder.
The door opened, and Red Hood stepped in, carrying a gym bag. Your gym bag.
He paused when he saw you awake.
"Morning," he said, his voice low, tired. You presumed he had been out all night getting your things. Then he'd confirmed, "I brought some of your clothes."
"Thanks," you replied, your voice small. You got up off the couch and accepted the bag and rummaged through it, finding familiar items. It felt strange, intimate even, knowing he had gone through your things.
Seeing you in his clothes did something to Jason. The shirt hung off your shoulder, and his sweats hung loosely at your hips, emphasising how much smaller you were compared to him. He felt a surge of adoration, mingled with a sense of possessiveness. He even began to regret bringing you your clothes, not minding the idea of you wearing his for a bit longer.
"I'm sorry about everything," you said, your voice trembling. "I never meant for this all to happen."
"It wasn't your fault," he replied firmly, his tone effortlessly intimidating. "You were set up."
You looked up at him, confused. "How do you know?"
He hesitated. "I don't. I guess you could say it's a hypothesis."
You recounted the events of the previous day, the death, the chance encounter with your professor. What if she had told someone she saw you.
What you were unaware of was that Jason had already broken into Dr. Harrison's place, gathering enough blackmail to ensure her silence. He figured that his threat and the broken wrist were enough to persuade her. He didn't want to burden you with those details.
"It's strange," you admitted, “you having to hide your face in your own home.” You looked down at your hands. "I understand why you can't reveal your identity, but..."
An idea struck you. Digging through the bag, you found an old silk scarf you'd sighted there. "What if I wear a blindfold? You could take off your helmet without me seeing you. You should be able to, anyway. It's your home, not mine."
Red Hood considered this. The thought of removing his helmet and letting his guard down was both terrifying and tempting. He took the scarf from your hands, inspecting it, and confirmed it wasn't sheer before handing it back.
You tied the scarf around your head, making sure you couldn't see anything. "Okay, ready."
You heard the sound of him removing his helmet, a soft hiss of released air. There was a moment, then his voice, softer now, more human. "Can you see anything?"
"No," you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. "It's completely dark."
“How many fingers am I holding up?” He put his hands in his pockets.
You tilted your head, trying your best to have a look, only to come up short. “I dont know.”
He smirked. “Perfect.”
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“Can you think of anyone who'd want to sabotage you?” Jason asked as he guided you to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, taking out bread and butter. He was starving from his shitty night.
You considered his question, standing barefoot on the cool parquet of his kitchen.
You told him about your co-workers and lab partners and how you perceived behavior towards you. As you spoke, you heard the sound of pen on paper every once in a while, jotting down details.
You began to pace, making small steps as you tried to provide sufficient details. At one point, you stumbled, and he caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist to steady you.
He liked having you in his arms, feeling your warmth against him. He wished he could tell you who he really was, to share more than just his alter ego with you. But for now, this was enough. He would keep you safe, no matter what.
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Jason watched you navigate the room with his guidance, the oversized clothes making you look cute in a way that amused him. He couldn't help but notice how you seemed out of place yet oddly endearing in his loft.
He remembered the first words you spoke to him last night, smiling to himself.
"So,” he began, feeling bold. “I'm 'your hero'?"
There was a teasing edge to his voice, and you felt a flush creep up your neck.
"I-um-well..." You stammered, trying to find the right words. "It was just... you saved me. Twice now, actually."
“Really?” Jason chuckled, a deep sound that made you squirm. "When was the first time?"
You bit your lip, feeling embarrassed. "It was my first year at uni. A group of us went out, and we ended up at a bar. And then some big, creepy guys circled me when I left to get some air."
Jason's attention sharpened. He didn't speak, letting you continue.
You took a deep breath. "I was scared, but then you showed up. You didn't even do much - you didn't soeak. Just lifted your guns and made a show of aiming them at them,” you chuckled at the thought. “And they ran. You were so badass!"
He smirked, enjoying your giddiness and the way you blushed.
You smiled, though he couldn't see it. "I never forgot that night."
Jason couldn't recall the incident, which made sense. There had been no fight, no trouble—nothing memorable. But hearing your story, seeing how much it meant to you, made him feel something unexpected.
"Glad I saved you twice," he said, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness.
You blushed deeper, fumbling with the hem of his shirt. The embarrassing part was that you'd imagined how you'd run into him again at least a hundred times in your mind. And when you finally did run, you babbled like an idiot, and on top of that, had pulled him into your trouble. “I just hate being so fucking helpless sometimes, you know?”
He stepped closer. "There's something you can help me with."
You blinked in surprise behind your blindfold.
"Help me investigate this. Find out who set you up." He said.
A lot was on your mind. You were grateful he believed your innocence. You were scared to touch the formula again, but you couldn't deny the burning curiosity to analyse it that circled your mind.
"Okay."
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Jason enjoyed the way you reacted to him, the way a simple touch could make you blush and squirm.
At times, he would conduct experiments of his own. Touches that to you could seem innocent and accidental, but we're entirely intentional.
One evening, after a long day of working on the formula, you and him sat together on the grey couch in his loft. His mask was off. You wore your makeshift blindfold. You'd gotten used to the silk scarf over the past few days.
“What can you tell me about Elizabeth Langstrom?” He asked casually.
You put down your cup of tea. "She's my head of research. She's really smart. I go to her for help."
"So she's a mentor to you.”
“Mhmm,” you nodded.
“When was the last time you saw her?”
You thought about it. “She came over to drop off some samples I asked for… before I went out to the club.” You realised out loud.
He hummed. “Did she give you anything before you went out that night? Something you might have overlooked?"
You hesitated, the edge in his voice making you shiver. "No, I don’t think so."
Jason leaned in closer. You felt his body heat closer to you. "Think carefully. Could she have slipped the vial into your purse?"
You were quick to deny his acusation. "No, she wouldn’t do that. She’s always been kind to me."
Jason’s fingers brushed lightly against your cheek, his touch lingering with an unsettling intimacy. The closeness and his commanding presence made your heart race.
Her reactions are priceless, he thought, Every flinch, every stammer—it’s all so… fascinating.
You were trying so hard to hold it together.
"You sure about that?" He continued, his voice smooth but carrying an edge. "People wear masks, y/n. They show one face to the world while hiding another. I think she could be hiding something from you. And I think you think so too.”
You felt your skin flush, your voice trembling. "I don’t believe she would. She’s always been kind."
Jason’s hand trailed down your neck, his fingers grazing your skin with a deliberate, chilling touch. The intensity of his presence, combined with the lack of sight, heightened your vulnerability.
She’s scared… why? he mused, although I suppose it could come in handy… fear makes people easier to control
It sure worked on Harrison. And half the crime scene in Gotham, who he held in the palm of his hand. But he didn't want to control you, did he? He craved control in every aspect of his life. But with you… he wasn't sure…
His proximity and the deliberate nature of his touch made it difficult for you to think clearly.
"I- I don’t know." You swallowed. "Maybe she did, but I can’t be sure. Why would she betray me?"
"People betray each other for all sorts of reasons," he said. "Maybe she wanted something you had, or maybe she was pressured into it. I need to find out the truth. Can you remember anything else?"
You searched your mind. "She didn't seem threatened. She was calm. The same she always was. We had a good talk about my thesis. She said that I could change everything." You smiled at the memory.
Your giddiness was cut short by a mental image of the dead thug, branches sprouting out of his body.
"It could" his voice pulled you out of your thoughts.
"I need to talk to her." You spoke up suddenly, conveying the urgency in your voce. "I need to hear her thoughts about the formula."
"I cant let you do that." He interjected.
"I trust her, red." You insisted, trying out the nick name for the first time.
"Trust is a luxury we can’t afford." He responded. "We find the truth, or we pay the price."
“How do I know I can trust you then,” you whispered in challenge.
“You can always trust your instincts y/n.” He explained. “And your instincts are telling you I would never hurt you.”
The intensity of the moment left you unsettled. Because he was right.
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The next evening, Jason decided it was time to investigate Elizabeth Langstrom's apartment. Armed with the information you had given him, he made his way to the upscale part of Gotham where she lived.
Meanwhile, you were home alone. Comfortable in one of your short sundresses, trying to distract yourself with television.
Suddenly, you felt a gentle but firm hand turn your chin. Before you could react, a pair of soft lips pressed against yours. You jumped back in surprise, your heart racing as you recognized the intruder.
"Dr. Langstrom?" you gasped, staring wide-eyed at your head of research. Her presence was unsettling, her sudden appearance leaving you breathless.
Dr. Langstrom smiled, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Y/N," she chastized softly. "You haven't come to speak to me for the past week. Is everything alright?"
You had too many questions. How had she found out where you were hiding? Why did she kiss you? How did she break in?
You tried to step back, but the room began to feel dreamlike, your head spinning. An inexplicable wave of happiness and vulnerability washed over you. You struggled to piece together what was happening, the suspicion growing in your mind that Dr. Langstrom had somehow drugged you.
"What are you doing here?" you managed to ask, your voice trembling but laced with a giggle.
Dr. Langstrom’s eyes sparkled as she avoided your question, instead reaching out to caress your cheek. "I just wanted to see you," she cooed playfully. "I’ve missed you."
Her touch was both soothing and unsettling, the drug making you pliant to her manipulations. Your thoughts became hazy, and you found yourself smiling, unable to resist her advances.
"I want you to do something for me, y/n," Dr. Langstrom whispered, her lips close to your ear. "I want you to kiss the Red Hood. Until you’re both breathless."
The words echoed in your mind, and despite the sinister undertone, you found yourself nodding, feeling oddly agreeable. "Kiss the Red Hood... until we’re both breathless," you repeated, the drug making it seem like the most delightful request.
Dr. Langstrom chuckled, a playful edge to her voice. "Good girl. Now, forget that you saw me tonight. You never saw me."
Her words seeped into your consciousness, the command taking hold as the drug dulled your senses. You nodded again, feeling the fog of forgetfulness settle over your mind.
"I never saw you," you repeated obediently, a blissful look on your face.
Dr. Langstrom gave you one last, lingering caress before turning and leaving your apartment. You stood there for a moment, the room spinning around you, before collapsing onto the couch, your mind a haze of happy confusion and compliance.
You waited eagerly for the moment he'd come back home.
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vampiriiiia · 5 months ago
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Waiting. Seething. Blooming
(Ch.2)
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Summary: An orphaned bastard of House Tyrell is welcomed in Kings Landing as Princess Healanas lady in waiting. In her attempts to navigate the ways of court and gain the favour of powerful men she manages to involve herself with the web of the royal family’s affairs.
word count: 3.8k
Since the day where you shared with the princess your knowledge of flowers,
and in extension, insects and such, your walks in the garden became a daily occurrence. Everyday, a bit before midday, and during the evenings as well, you and Princess Helaena would stroll around the gardens, deep in conversation. On some days, such as this, hers and Prince Aegon’s children, Prince Jaegerys and sweet Princess Jaehera would come with you. On such evenings, you sit in a marble bench that was adorned with ivys.
In front of you lied a moss covered path, amidst the enchanting whispers of the Keeps garden, where the gnarled limbs of towering oaks twist and turn like vigilant sentinels. This path, gently beckons you towards the heart of the grove. Here, in this secluded haven, stands a statue carved in alabaster. For a moment, it seemed to glow with a light all its own. The statue is poised gracefully upon a pedestal entwined with ivy. Surrounding this spectral guardian are blooms of purple and pink hydrangeas, their petals nodding in the breeze like petals like the paintings for a book your mother had showed you, a time long ago. Shadows of children dance under the enchanting boughs, where light seldom intrudes, adding to the mystique of this sanctuary. It is a place where the divide between past and present blurs, and where the whispers of history seem louder than the songs of birds around you and your unusually quiet company.
You carefully watched the children for a while, before turning your attention to the Princess, who despite her earlier excitement to visit the gardens, now stood silent and stoic, like the elegant statue in front of you, examining a dark creature perched upon her hand. Its eight legs, sharp and angled like blades, moved with a dreadful grace. Its body, a shadowy armour of intricate patterns. It’s eyes almost looked a bit sinister as they seemed to pierce through the very essence of your facade, as though the spider itself held dominion over fear and shadows. You had no problem with insects and such, even holding some of them when the Princesses hands had been too full, but you dreaded spiders. You dreaded them more than anything. As you watched her handle the creature with grace, a sense of numbing terror spread across your chest, and despite being seated, you felt your legs crumble also. It wasn’t the spiders appearance that frightened you per se, more the fact that they could be anywhere, and you wouldn’t know. They seemed to know every whisper that had been whispered in the Keep, maybe even the realm, maybe even Highgarden. Most likely Highgarden. They knew too many things, they could weave the most appropriate net for you, trapping you for as long as they pleased, and you wouldn't even see it. Thankfully, your size did not allow that but unfortunately, you were not as big as you’d like, for you were far smaller than the nets life sized spiders created.
Eventually you turned your attention back to the children running around each other, seemingly playing a game of tag. You sat there, quietly with the Princess for a while, till a sudden appearance had the both of you jolting.
Queen Alicent Hightower has always been a politely imposing figure. She had lengthy copper curls and big brown eyes that seemed to be aware of your every move. She had been wearing an emerald green dress, perched with the symbol of the seven on her waist, creating a belt like necklace around her lower waist. Other than the softness of the fabric with a few golden details, she had been dressed simply for the day, as the Princess had told you, no court meeting for the day was to be held. She inspected you closely, carefully, the way you sat and how straight your back was, where you put your hands, and when she was seemingly satisfied, she turned her attention to her daughter. Her eyes softened as she said “ Helaena, would you happen to know where your grandsire would be?” “No mother, I do not. (Y/N) and I have been here for some time, he has not appeared around these parts of the garden”. The Princess had gained a habit of referring to you by your first name as of late, she never corrected herself, but you never took the liberty of using her first name as well.
The Queen looked perplexed at that, “He had told me he’d be with you today.” “Well, he is not”. She sighted, letting out a long batted breath, obviously not very pleased with the outcome of her search. She seemed to be searching for him quite often these days, surely the castle couldn’t be so big. Besides, Lord Otto Hightower was of old age, he couldn’t be running around the castle, avoiding his daughter of all people. That thought seemed amusing, but it was certainly untrue, since most days Queen Alicent was the one doing the running. She rigidly sat down, in the middle of you and Helaena on the bench, “I suppose I’ll wait here then. Your grandsire is most likely to appear at these parts of the garden”. That was not true, this wing of the garden has always been quiet, so quiet you could hear the rose petals flowing under the evening breeze. You highly doubted the Hand had been one for romantic adventures through quiet parts of the castle such as this.
Queen Alicents presence stiffened the atmosphere. While before her arrival there was a silent air of understanding surrounding you and Princess Helaena, now it was filled with awkward small conversation about court matters such as the starvation of smallfolk in the southern part of Kings Landing. That was the one thing that stuck to you the most “And what is the next move to solve that matter? Have you reached a conclusion yet?” you surprised yourself by speaking but the Queen’s response is what truly caught you off guard “It’s truly unfortunate but we have not yet began to attend to that matter, in the city of Braavos, the Iron Bank, not half a year ago had lended a large amount of money to the throne to built that large well down in Rivers Row and unfortunately it has not been finished and they’re demanding that number of money back” did a well really take so much money to be built? why couldn’t they use the saving of the throne itself? “We of course will tend as soon as we can to the starving smallfolk but there’s other matters to be tended to first. You see Lady Flower, the throne is always busy and filled with responsibilities” the Queen added hastily, sensing your scepticism about her response, diverting the conversation to other matters the throne had to quickly attend to. You tried your best to keep your back straight, never slouching and your hands never leaving your lap.
——
“They want to make my brother king” the Princess abruptly broke the silence after arriving to her chambers. The uncomfortable conversation with Queen Alicent had thankfully ended as it began to darken outside. Now at the comfort of her quarters, soundly rocking Jaeherys crib while you did the same for Jaehera, her commnet caught you by suprise. “Why would you think that Helaena?” you knew exactly why. Since the moment you arrived in the castle you quickly understood what opinions Queen Alicents side of the family held for Princess Rhaenyra. Prince Aegon made jokes about the legitimacy of her sons, The hand liked to act like she did not exist but was in fact a distant family member at best, and not the actual heir to the throne. Princess Helaena never spoke of her, but also never participated in debates about her with the rest of her family. You were not sure if the latter one was a direct request from the Queen. You only heard Prince Aemond speak of her once, and the causality which he spoke so hatefully about her had you momentarily freeze in your place.
On the other hand, you heard Queen Alicent speak so often about her step-daughter that you were not sure if it sounded more like envy or like something else. Or both.
Queen Alicent spoke of Rhaenyra in public with a veneer of civility and disdain. She would often criticize the Princesses rebellions and lack of propriety. The Queen made a show of disapproving of her behaviour, playing up the role of a concerned stepmother trying to rein in a wayward daughter.
"She is willful and defiant," Alicent would say, her voice laced with irritation. "Ignoring her duties and causing trouble at every turn. It’s a shame, really. She could be so much more if she would just learn to act like a proper princess." the Queen would continue in a frenzy. It took you by suprise how often you’d catch her in such position, speaking in such way, to Ser Criston Cole, of all people. Although, he never once opened his mouth to agree or disagree with her, displaying a serious and nonchalant stance to what the Queen was saying. It was a smart move on his part, but at the same time it made it look like it happened more often than not.
Queen Alicent reminded you of how you spoke of the gods when you were younger, innocent and more hopeful. When your mother was still alive, albeit sick, and you still belivied. You’d speak in an irritated manner about them, when despite your prayers, they didn’t bend to your will. You’d never stop believing and praying though, always secretly hoping that they’d see your devotion and finally grand you one wish. In your case, you asked for your mothers health. You did not know, not truly, what Queen Alicent wanted from Princess Rhaenyra. You weren’t sure if she quite knew herself.
Your inner turmoil was put at pause when Princess Jaehera whined a little, then went back to her sleep. You looked at the Princess, who had now placed her son in his crib, rocking him gently, with a faraway look in her lavender blue eyes. Princess Helena’s wasn’t much older than you, yet she had her twins at the same age you lost your mother. You knew that at that age, you weren’t mentally or physically prepared to host another person inside you, much less twins. The Princess helped feed them, bath them, made sure they went to their high Valyrian lessons, rocked them to sleep every night and was always with them, day and night, overlooking their other activities with your help. But as you watched her tend to them, you weren’t really sure if she quite realised they were hers. You once heard some maids comment about the Princesses standoffishness, which increased after she got married to her brother and had children.
You reached the conclusion that despite those day dreams always being a part of the Princess, their increase is both a form of escapism. Deep down, she knew that the children were hers. But the weight of motherhood, its duties, it must be very overwhelming. In her mind, they were not her children, they were her siblings. It must be more comfortable pretending she was their older sister, which wasn’t a stretch considering how young the queen was when she had Prince Aegon. Retreating into her mind was easier than truly grasping the fact that she birthed those children when she was one herself.
The Princess didn’t reply to your question, she tucked her son in, as you did for her daughter, and asked for your help with undoing her hair and gown. When she got in her night wear, you started unbraiding her hair. “Has Prince Aegon yet to return?” you asked “As usual he has not. I don't except him to. He himself must prefer where his currently sleeping, or rather who” you learned quickly enough that the Princess preferred much more as well that he did not return to their shared chambers. Her relationship with her brother, despite being married and having twins, never really changed, no romantic love blossomed between them as it had for their great-grandsire and his sister wife, the good Queen Alyssane.
——
Sleep for once had come easy last night, which was unusual. You quickly dressed yourself in a light blue dress with puffy sleeves and fixed your hair accordingly. You walked to the sept, not too fast and not too slow, as you smiled carefully and politely greeted other members of court. The sept was cold, filled with the chilly air of the morning, but the candles as you lit them quickly warmed you up. One for your mother, your father, your grandparents. You sat on your knees and silently moved your lips as you recited the correct prayers. You felt a heavy presence move next to you and start praying as well. You did not feel particularly happy about that, knowing you couldn’t sit in the sept as long as you usually do with another observing you. You prayed for a few more minutes, then started to recite all the other prayers you knew, eager to wait out the presences departure. It did not come, you felt the person move and stand up, giving you a brief moment of hope, till you realised they weren’t leaving, seemingly waiting for you to finish. You finished your last known prayer and blowed out the candles you previously lit, carefully standing up and dusting off nonexistent filth. You turned around to be met face to face with Prince Aemond. It was for the best really, you reasoned, Prince Aemond was unmarried still, you could attempt to secure a match for yourself with a second son, bastard or not, you were still the oldest and one of the only surviving members of House Tyrell. Although, Prince Aemond never wanted you to forget your illegitimacy, “Lady Flower” he started, always putting an emphasis on your last name. “I was beginning to wonder you were avoiding me with how much you were praying” he continued. He was easily dislikable. You smiled politely “Of course not, my Prince, House Tyrell sadly has lots of deceased members” a half truth. The l Prince examined you with his icy gaze, it was clear he did not like you at all, nor made an attempt to hide his disdain for bastards, even if their standing was in Highgarden, the same House his mothers family had sworn to.
“I have a personal request for you” he spoke after a beat of silence.
You held your breath, hoping it was something that was easily completed and would not question your honour, more than it already was since your birth. “Ser Criston, my mothers and your Queens, royal guard has been sent for business on my grandfathers command down in Kings Landing, the western part. I was ought to come with him but my duties do not allow me time to do so. I was hoping you’d be of help.” “But the Princess—” “The Princess has already been informed that you have matters to attend to for today. You post will be filled with some other lady.” He has already planned this out. His words gave you little room to think of anything else. “Of course my Prince” he did not smile or thank you, just started to walk. You took that as your cue to follow him.
After a few, albeit long and nerve filled minutes, you found yourself in the company of Ser Criston and Prince Aemond. Ser Criston was not wearing his usual armour, but instead he wore a dark grey cloak and a hat to match it, trying to cover his appearance. He handed you a dark blue and dusty cloak and despite your initial disgust, you wore it with not one complain and put on the attached hood. They spoke quietly amongst themselves, then looked back at you, then back at each other. You smiled politely, but not for two long, so they wouldn’t deem you as stupid. You were pretty sure the Prince would think so anyway, despite your best efforts.
After a few minutes of exchanging quiet conversation and a few hissed whispers at each other, Ser Criston started to walk outside, nodding for you to follow him. Prince Aemond send you a warning glance before you left. You quickly followed Ser Criston outside, it had been your first time outside the walls of the castle, so you didn’t know how dangerous it could be. But it must have been dangerous enough, for he still kept his sword on him, gripping it as you walked side by side. After a while, you found the courage to ask “Is there a specific reason why I was asked to join you today?” Ser Criston replied without looking at you, with a stern expression staring ahead “You will see for yourself soon enough.” It was unfair to drag you out of your daily responsibilities and to not even inform you why, withholding information from the quest they sent you to, you thought in bitter annoyance.
“Whatever you see today, I do not want you to inform the Queen.”
What. “What?”
“I have been given stern instructions not to inform her by the Hand himself. You will follow them as well. Is that understood?”
You spoke after a moment, unable to move from your suprise at his words “….Yes.”
You walked in silence for some time, passing men, women and children alike most of them skinny, thin, bony actually. So thin you could reach and touch them and you’d feel their bones more than their skin. They looked as if the only thing separating their bones from the outside world was a thin dirty sheet, that hugged their body tightly. A few were laying on the cold dirt ground, most likely dead, judging by the smell. You hoped you’d leave that smell in the past. The stench of death hung heavy in the air. Rotting flesh mingled with the acrid smoke of burning bodies, creating a nauseating odor that clawed at the senses. The sickly sweet smell of decay was like a miasma, shrouding everything in a pall of despair. The back gate of the castle had been at the southeast part of the city, which meant you were seeing first hand the consequences of starvation. There were so many dead bodies, rotting unattended to, that the risk of a disease breaking out pretty soon seemed the only logical outcome. They weren’t burning fast enough, there were more dead laying on the ground than healthy men that were able to stand on their feet to continue this task.
Some were cussing King Viserys, who having been so many years bedridden had cast his curse on the city, to have everyone slowly die like he was. Others cussed Princess Rhaenyra for leaving and not taking the throne to protect the realm. Others cussed Queen Alicent and her court of men, who chose to cut the food supply from Highgarden for whatever reason. To you horror, as you walked to the western part of the city, you realised the wave of starvation had affected not only the south, but the east and a part of the west as well. You speculated the north was also highly affected too. As you thought some more, you finally began to l piece a few things together. The amount of money the Iron Bank lended to the throne had not been just for that damn well, as you were pretty sure the court wouldn’t sacrifice the entire population of Kings Landing just for that. Who would pay taxes in that case? You also knew that the castle had more than enough money to never need a loan from the Iron Bank, but they didn’t want to use the money from there for whatever they were truly using the loan for. If they used the thrones savings for anything, they always had to keep it in account and they didn’t want any physical evidence. The well was being used as a means to launder off money in a way. Your father had explained you long ago what that meant. You didn't want to think of him now.
Instead, you wondered if the Queen actually knew. You weren’t sure if she knew truly what the loan was used for, or the true state Kings Landing was in, judging at least from the instructions Ser Criston was given from the Hand. Oh. The Hand. You should’ve realised so sooner. It seems the Queen was kept in the dark for some time regarding matters such as this. As the Queen you weren’t sure how much she knew and how much she chose to believe certain things were true. How she believed her fathers word on a scale. It must be a combination of trust and of wanting her consciousness at peace. What you knew became your responsibility as well, after all. You couldn’t judge the Hand for doing so, after all the reason you were here was because you acted in a similar manner towards your younger brother. Although you’d never put at risk so many innocent people to keep a lie believable. You liked to think a certain amount of the self-sacrifice they taught ladies like you was still left, or at least some morality.
You looked at Ser Criston, his eyes betrayed no disgust, sadness or anger at the image in front of him. His brows were slightly forrowed but that could be from the smell. Out of all the people in court, except a few middle born ladies, you shared the most similarities with Ser Criston. You both came from low-born mothers after all and knew the struggles that came with. He seemed to forget his roots, though. You walked and walked till you stopped in front of a whore house, deep in the centre of Kings Landing, far away from sickness, pain and grief, here the people still danced and drank despite it only being mid-day. Ser Criston turned to you “I’ll need to you to go inside, and fetch Prince Aegon in the calmest manner you can master. Don’t attract much attention. Quickly.” Before you could answer, Ser Criston knocked on the door and a woman in frizzy blonde curls and pink underwear opened the door and looked at both of you expectingly. She seemed annoyed you noted. Ser Criston looked at you, motioning for you to speak.
“We have direct orders from the castle to bring Prince Aegon back. There are urgent matters he needs to attend to.” You looked at yo it partner for a moment, wanting to see if your words were up to his expectations. He nodded at you silently and you looked back at the woman you with a grunt showed you the way inside. Ser Criston stayed outside and the door close with a loud thud. You were glad for once that the cloak that had been given to you had a hood and that the whore house had colourful curtains covering the windows.
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syntheticavenger · 5 months ago
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On My Mama - Three
A special thank you to @mrsmischief209 @flordeamatista @negronispagliato for helping with language translation and @cocobutterqwueen for cheering me on with the plot!
Santiago 'Pope' Garcia x Female Reader
Tyler Rake x Female Reader
Andy Barber x Female Reader
Jax Teller x Female Reader
Word Count: 4.2K
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, breeding kink (brief), jealousy, angst, mentions of divorce, co-parenting.
Summary | Being a single mom with a complicated relationship with your ex-husband makes for an interesting summer after a school event and an unexpected errand puts you front and center with some eligible contenders for your attention.
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“Mommy, look! They have horsies!” Mia squeaks, pointing as Santiago holds her close so that she doesn’t tip over, mesmerized as a horse gallops by the big window. “Daddy, do you see the horsies?!”
“I do see them,” Santiago agrees, kissing the crown of her head affectionately. “We have to finish the tour, mini.”
Sister Catherine Francis stands next to you, the school administrator smiling at the sweet moment between father and daughter. Admittedly, the tour has been impressive. Beside the stables, there is an auditorium, a gym, a play area much larger than the one in her current school and the student to teacher ratio is much smaller than you thought.
“Mrs. Garcia, I know you have some reservations about our school as Mr. Garcia told us,” Sister Catherine begins, her Irish accent strong. “I assure you, Mia will have the very best of care here at St. Mary’s. The curriculum here is outstanding and our students go on to Ivy League universities and abroad.”
“Curriculum,” you repeat, seeing her nod, anticipating your response with a tight-lipped smile. You’ve been peppering her with questions the entire tour, ever since she had mentioned she was pleased that Santiago had reached out weeks prior, calling you by your former last name, ignoring that you had mentioned that you were divorced.
Your cell phone vibrates in your purse, mumbling an excuse to step away for a moment as Sister Catherine approaches Santiago and Mia to discuss the details of the stables, asking Mia if she would like to know the names of all the horses.
“Hello?”
“Hey, sorry if I caught you at a bad time,” Tyler apologizes, your mood improving at the sound of his voice.
You’re grateful for the reprieve, even more so that he’s called you directly.
Santiago looks over his shoulder as you turn around, your back to him. He’s far away enough that you hope he can’t hear you.
“No, it’s fine, I’m just out with Mia,” you answer. “How are you?”
“I’m good. How are you?”
“I’m good.”
After a pause, Tyler laughs, the sound making you smile.
“Listen, I’m being a total idiot about this and I’m sorry. How would you feel if I picked the place to go to dinner? I promise you’ll have a good time.”
“I think that would be fine. Should I be worried?” you ask.
“No? I mean, I hope not. How does Saturday sound? Seven?”
“Seven works,” you agree, taking two steps away from Sister Catherine. “Enough time to find a sitter.”
“Seven it is. We can meet there if that works?”
“Sure. I’ll see you at seven.”
“Perfect. It’s a date. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
When you hang up, you notice that Santiago is closer now, Mia still in his arms as he looks through his phone for a moment. Sister Catherine clears her throat at the interruption, making you look up from your phone.
“Did you have questions regarding any of our curricula?”
You hope that doesn’t mean to be pushy, but it sounds that way, the nun clasping her hands in front of her, waiting for your answer.
 “Mia is five. She’s in kindergarten and doing well,” you counter, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice. “College is a few years away.”
“She’s a very intelligent young lady. We would nurture her intuitive nature, develop her into a strong young woman who would be readily accepted at any university of her choosing. You must start now, in her formidable years, to make sure she is strong.”
“She’s already strong.”
Mia runs over to you when her father puts her down, clinging to your legs as she bends her head back, looking into your eyes.
“I like it, Mommy!” Mia announces.
“You like what, sweetheart?” you ask carefully, Mia raising up her arms for you to pick her up.
She settles into your arms, leaning over to whisper in your ear.
“I like the horsies.”
“They’re nice, aren’t they?” you ask, her head bumping against your cheek as she nods quickly.
“I want one, Mommy. Can I have one?”
“Horses are expensive, baby,” you tell her gently, Santiago standing close by to smooth down her hair.
“We can talk about it over lunch, hmm? How does that sound?” he asks, giving you a cool smile before he turns to the nun. “Sister Catherine, I cannot tell you how much we appreciate the hospitality and the graciousness you’ve shown me and my family.”
“It is my pleasure, Mr. Garcia.”
“We haven’t made a decision,” Santiago says carefully, looking in your direction as you hold Mia close. “But I’m sure either way, we’ll be in touch.”
“Of course. It was nice meeting you, Mia,” Sister Catherine says, Mia leaning over you to shake her hand.
“Bye!” Mia chirps as you force a smile, knowing that this isn’t the right time to say any of the thoughts that have filled your head.
“Thank you,” you reply to her, the nun nodding with a gracious expression.
“Of course, Mrs. Garcia.”
🌙
Mia chews on a piece of chicken, cut up expertly by her father as she colors on the paper placemat. 
Santiago leans back in his chair, sipping his glass of wine, silent as he glances from his daughter to you. As much as your irritation has grown, you know better than to argue in front of Mia. You’re also aware of the stare that he’s giving you, like he has more to say than he is letting on.
“I’m sorry for the surprise,” Santiago murmurs, placing his glass back down on the table. “I should have told you.”
“Yes, you should have,” you answer back quietly, Mia still coloring, playing you no mind. “I know you want what is best for our daughter, but I wish you would understand that this would be a big change for her.”
“Of course it would. No more cafeteria food, no overcrowded classrooms, more attention on our precious daughter. I fail to see the flaws in St. Mary’s.”
“She knows no one there. She’s made friends, she has her own little social calendar now. She’s happy.”
“I’m happy,” Mia recites with a giggle, drawing a squiggly line in purple crayon.
“She’s five,” Santiago recites back to you. “Young enough to make new friends, build new relationships and settle into a new school.”
The server interrupts with the next course, lingering a little longer to ask Santiago if he would like something else, her arm draped over the chair. You pay her no mind, knowing that he won’t let this particular subject go, no matter what distraction there may be in his way.
“I think we’re fine for now, thank you,” he declares with an air of annoyance through a tight flash of teeth.
“I’ll be nearby if you need anything,” she says, moving away from him.
Still within earshot, Santiago’s eyes level with yours, looking down at his plate and then to Mia, who has switched to a green crayon, drawing what looks like two boxes on top of each other.
“A frog,” Mia announces to her parents, coloring diligently.
Before you have a chance to argue, his gaze settles on the server who is still close by, turning back to you with a disapproving stare before he finally speaks.
“Mira a Mia, nos tiene a nosotros igual con el mundo a su alcance.”
He raises an eyebrow after, his words settling as you frown, Mia’s head snapping up at attention.
“¿Que... mundo?” she asks her father, looking at him suspiciously, your eyes rolling as Santiago smirks, lifting her out of her chair and onto his lap.
“I forgot how smart you are, mini,” Santiago murmurs against her, moving his wine glass away from her as she reaches for it. “That’s not juice. Let’s get you your own drink.”
The nickname isn’t lost on you, Mia leaning against her father, rubbing her eyes. Mini, meaning a mini version of you, something he’s called her since before she could talk.
When the server finally moves away, Mia slips off of her father’s lap, running to you as she moves from side to side.
“I gotta potty,” she announces loudly, your finger going to your lips to remind her to lower her voice as she takes off running.
Independent as you know her to be, you also know she’s fast, following behind her. You know she has no idea where she’s going, mumbling out an apology to the tables that she passes, narrowly missing a server with a tray over their head.
She stops in her tracks, pointing as you reach her, following her direction.
“It’s Abel!”
True to her word, Abel is sitting across a table in a booth with a well-dressed woman, who you assume is Abel’s mother. She doesn’t fit the description of Abel’s mother, someone whose name Melanie has dragged through the proverbial mud. This woman, in her black pantsuit and perfectly coiffed hair doesn’t look like she would be an absent mother, especially the way she talks to him.
It is Melanie after all, you think, herding Mia toward the restroom. She’s not exactly known for liking many people, let alone someone who is that close to Jax.
“I wanna say hi,” Mia protests, looking over her shoulder before the door closes. “Mommy, let’s say hi to Abel.”
“After you go to the restroom, I promise we will go say hello to Abel and after you wash your hands.”
“And we sing the ABCs!” Mia reminds you, running into a stall and locking it.
It feels silly to think about Jax, especially with how the day has played out. Santiago’s surprise tour to St. Mary’s and your upcoming date with Tyler. Your plate is full and you haven’t even told Santiago about your date.
If you even want to. You don’t even want to know how many dates he’s been on. Not that he’ll ever tell you and you’ve never been bold enough to ask. A flicker of irritation moves through you when you remember Abel’s sweet little face, dejected after being dropped off without a gift. You know that it didn’t matter that he didn’t have a gift but children mimic their parents and their societal standards.
“I’m done!” Mia says, after stopping the multiple flushes once you remind her to not play in the bathroom. 
Dutifully she recites her alphabet when she washes her hands, the suds flying around the sink while you prepare the paper towels for her to dry her hands like a servant.
“Can we say hi now?”
“Yes,” you agree, Mia bolting out the door.
You stop in your tracks when Mia greets Jax loudly, seeing him sit across from the well-dressed woman. He’s traded his well-worn kutte for a button down shirt and black slacks, his hair slicked back, unaware that you’re close by when he scans the restaurant for any sign of you.
“Mommy!” Mia says, waving to you. “She’s right there.”
You tug your dress down when you walk toward them, Abel giving you a shy smile, Jax giving you a slow smile.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Jax says with a smile. “Mother daughter lunch date?”
“You could say that,” you respond, Mia eyeing the paper placemat that Abel is working on.
“You have to color the boxes,” Mia orders, your arm going around her to remind her of her manners gently.
“Abel can color them later,” you tell her softly, Mia shrugging as Abel starts to color in the boxes.
The woman smiles and you feel a sense of intruding on their time, quickly giving them a nod before slowly turning Mia back toward the direction of where you are sitting.
It’s family time, you predict, Jax giving you a curious look as you make a move to give them some space.
“Leaving so soon?”
“I wouldn’t want to impede on your family time,” you tell him. “Good to see you and Abel and nice to meet you…”
“Nice to meet you too,” the woman says with a grin, Jax raising an eyebrow before you march Mia back to the table.
🌙
“Busy schedule?” Santiago asks, seeing you fire off a text to one of the moms in the group text over a snack rotation schedule mix up. The drive back as been quiet thus far, ever since you’d gone back to the table and he had already paid, holding Mia’s tiny purse that she had insisted on taking everywhere.
“Just ironing out some details.”
Mia is fast asleep in the backseat, Santiago licking his lower lip in thought.
“If you need a sitter on Saturday, I’m sure I can have my mother watch Mia.”
“Are my conversations not private anymore?” you question, seeing a smirk play at his mouth.
“Big hallway,” he responds. “Your voice carries. And you didn’t answer my question. Do you want my mother to watch Mia?”
“I’d prefer to think about my options and for you to not eavesdrop on my conversations.”
“I told you. Your voice carries.”
You shift in your seat. It’s uncomfortable to know that he heard what you were saying, even more unnerving is that you feel guilty.
“Or you were listening. I don’t ask you about your personal life.”
“No,” he agrees with a shake of his head. “I’d answer anything you’d want to know. You know that.”
You sit in silence for a moment, your street coming into view.
“You want to date, I say go for it,” Santiago continues. “Would it make me a little jealous to know you’re scouting out potential men to find a partner? I’m human, aren’t I? I’d be lying if I told you I don’t think about how I should have put another baby in you. Those sounds you make for me, conejita… I crave them and no one can ever recreate it, nor have they come close.”
You try to move when he places his hand on your bare thigh, his hand warm as he slides it up toward your dress.
“So you’ve tried,” you shoot back, hating that you can already feel yourself reacting to him.
“Does it matter?”
“When you’re trying to surprise me with a quick decision on a private school that I was not given a chance to even think about? No,” you answer, placing your hand on his. “I’m still upset with you.”
“I didn’t say she had to go. It needs to be a decision from the both of us. I’m asking you to keep an open mind.”
“I will once I can keep a clear mind.”
Santiago smiles, a text popping up on his screen. Another woman, your eyes looking at the notification.
“Guess your calendar is packed too,” you shoot back, getting out of the car when he parks. “Not making a decision on the school yet. But we aren’t sleeping together.”
Santiago laughs, shaking his head in disbelief when he gets out the car to take Mia out of her seat.
“My flight leaves in two hours so I’ll put her to bed and you can take your time with your decision,” he informs you.
🌙
Settling Mia into her bed, he heads downstairs, finding no sign of you. Your phone is on the counter, a notification popping up as he hovers over it.
It’s a single name, one that he raises an eyebrow at.
Jax.
Even more curious is what he reads as he hears you come back down the stairs.
Not my wife. She’s my lawyer. 
🌙
It’s daunting, fingers wrapped around the wood, breathing harder than you ever thought. You’re aware that your last movement was less than graceful, afraid to step over the line, your hips moving to try to get into the right position.
“Do you want some help?” Tyler asks, the burr of his voice sending a tingle down your spine.
“Yes, please,” you answer, his warm fingers on your elbow, flexing your arm back and forth slowly. 
The sweet smell of sawdust gives you the urge to sneeze, the loud clink of beer glasses when someone hits a target and the raucous roar when someone doesn’t hit their mark gives you a sense of ease. There’s no need for perfection or expertise.
He’d met you at the door, your shyness on display when he held the door open for you. It wasn’t your first choice for a date, but your only comparison was the upscale restaurants that Santiago would take you to. Either way, you’re excited to try something new, the ax hard to throw but the adrenaline rush when you throw it is entertaining.
“It’s a flick of the wrist,” he instructs, standing behind you, his body a solid wall of muscle when you take a step back accidentally, trying to make sure you don’t disqualify yourself.
“It’s a quick throw but you’ve got to move with purpose, focus on where you want it to go. Ready?”
When you throw it, the ax sails through the air, hitting the top of the target. Not that it matters, you finally got it to stick, celebrating that you were able to hit something, rather than have it bounce off the wall.
As a first date, you’re still glancing at your phone as Laurie sends you pictures of Mia, feeling guilty for all of five seconds when you realize that he’s probably done the same. You feel oddly comfortable in a flannel shirt and jeans and a pair of sneakers for a first date. You’d gone through your closet while Laurie had come over to watch Mia, with it being Andy’s week with Jacob and she was more than happy to watch her as Santiago’s mother had last minute plans.
As a rule, you don’t engage with any questions she has, especially since she’s always hinted that you had made a mistake with your decision to separate and then divorce.
It was a good thing they were your decisions.
Your decision now is to try to not focus on how handsome Tyler looks when he focuses on the target, hitting the target each time. You’re aware of his politeness, the way he doesn’t get into the personal side of your history with your ex, keeping it light with Mia and Hunter and to your interests.
For the first time in a long time, you talk about yourself and your hopes and dreams.
And Tyler listens.
You don’t want to compare, nor do you want to put either of them on a pedestal but there’s something about the way he lets what you say sink in, nodding slowly and taking the social cue of when he can share his own thoughts and ideas. There is no fighting for dominance in a conversation, something that you aren’t used to.
“What?” he asks you after taking a sip of his beer.
“Nothing,” you answer quickly, realizing that you’ve been staring at his tattooed arms and how he smiles.
It isn’t the time to admit that you’ve been appreciating his physical form as well as feeling seen and heard.
“Ax throwing is harder than I thought,” you admit, stretching out your fingers.
“Does it hurt?” Tyler asks, reaching out his hand to you, placing your hand in his. “Sometimes you can get a splinter.”
He examines your hand, his fingers running along your fingers and palm, closing your hand into a fist and then unraveling it to hook your fingers over his, his lips brushing against your knuckles. At the contact, your face heats up at how gentle he is with you.
“Not a scratch or splinter from what I can see,” he says with a nod, looking into your eyes. “I’d say that’s a win.”
-
“I thought about leaving. Taking Hunter with me, moving to a new city and just starting over,” Tyler tells you while you walk along the pier. “It made sense to me, you know? Clean slate, we didn’t have to look back. Then he entered kindergarten and I watched him come out of his shell that I thought he would never break out of and I knew that I couldn’t do that to him.”
“What about private school?” you ask, seeing him shrug off his jacket as he slows his steps, placing it over your shoulders. You’re instantly warm, smelling the faint cologne left on his jacket. “Thank you.”
“I thought about it,” he replies, continuing to walk beside you. “I moved a lot as a kid, went to few private schools here and there but I never like I fit in. Didn’t think Hunter would either. Why do you ask?”
“I thought about St. Mary’s but…” you trail off, focusing on the waves that crash against the shore in the moonlight. “I think she’d miss her friends.”
“They’d miss her.”
“I don’t know,” you sigh. “I want to make sure she’s well adjusted. I want to make sure that she’s happy and healthy. She’s made so many friends and I hope that I make the right decision for her.”
“Have you ever felt like you haven’t?”
Shaking your head, he nods in agreement.
“Then you’re making the right decision.”
“I feel like I could be better.”
“Oh?” he questions. “How so?”
“There’s always room for improvement.”
“Even now?”
His curious expression makes you stop, looking into his blue eyes for a moment. There’s a vulnerability there, a softness that sends a slight flutter to your stomach.
“No,” you answer. “I can’t think of any improvements on tonight.”
“I disagree,” Tyler responds, pulling his jacket that is around your shoulders closer to keep you warm, pulling you toward him slowly. “I can think of something.”
He lowers his head to kiss you and you meet him halfway, his lips on yours, soft and warm. You don’t want it to end, even if you know at any time you’ll both pull away. 
His cell phone vibrates loudly in the pocket, your soft groan barely audible when you break the kiss.
“Did you want to get that?” you whisper, Tyler kissing you again before you can ask him again.
“It’s the sitter. I think I owe her some overtime.”
“Oh, God, I’m sorry,” you apologize, Tyler holding you close by holding onto his jacket.
“Worth it.”
🌙
“You kissed him?” Laurie whispers, eyes wide as she perches on the couch. “Shut up, you did not.”
“I did,” you confess, covering your face. “On the first date? Is that even allowed?”
“Of course it is! I fucked my first college boyfriend on the first date. This is tame. Tongue or no tongue.”
“Laurie!” you hiss, breaking out into a fit of laughter. “This is absurd. I can’t believe I’m talking about this. It was one date.”
“One date where you went ax throwing with a giant. Not just any giant, by the way. Tyler Rake. The man is an enigma. I can’t tell if he hates the PTA or genuinely enjoys it.”
“I didn’t ask,” you say dryly, Laurie finishing the last of her wine. Your phone vibrates next to you, a message popping up that you check quickly before she notices.
Happy you made it home safe. Thank you for a great night.
“So… was he a good kisser?” Laurie questions.
“Do you ask this of everyone?”
“No,” Laurie replies honestly. “I’m asking because you’re my friend and I don’t have many of those because most people annoy me. You went on a date. That’s a start. How do you feel?”
“Weird.”
You don’t know how to explain it. It feels like you’re keeping a secret, even if it isn’t one. You’re a single woman, even if you don’t feel like it sometimes. Santiago is gone, jetted off to Spain for a trip. Probably with one of his companions, something you won’t ever ask about, even if he says he’s an open book.
It’s complicated in a way that it doesn’t need to be and you know it.
Laurie is right. This is a start of something. Maybe not anything that you know but enough to make you begin thinking that you deserve to be selfish for a moment, to think about what you want.
Whatever that may be.
“It’s okay to play the field you know,” Laurie says, getting up from her seat, picking up her wine glass to take to the sink. “It’s not a bad thing to make sure your bases are loaded.”
-
When you check on Mia, she’s fast asleep, buried under the covers with her favorite teddy bear at her side. Next week will be Santiago’s week and the pangs of longing already begin, even though she’s right next to you when you sit carefully on her bed.
Two more weeks of school and then she’s done for the summer, your baby girl going full speed ahead into the first grade once the summer is over, something you aren’t ready to comprehend, let alone even want to think about.
“I’m proud of you,” you whisper, smoothing back her hair as she snuggles against her pillow. “I love you.”
Getting up to leave her room, you scroll through your missed messages, noticing one from an unknown number.
BBQ next Saturday. Adults only – Alcohol is provided. See you there?
You’ve seen the number before, scrolling through your phone to find a message where the number pops up again from a message confirming attendance at a school function.
Andy Barber.
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roseghoul26 · 7 months ago
Text
Chapter 1: In A Faith-Forgotten Land
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Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader
Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny Author's Note: welcome to my first ever non-oneshot fic! hope you enjoy! Chapter List
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The first time you met Arthur Morgan, you had quite literally crashed into the man.
It wouldn’t have been that big of a deal; you would’ve just said your apologies and went on your way, never to see each other again. And that’s what would’ve happened, if it wasn't for the fact that it was in your house, during the middle of the night, while he was trying to rob you.
You were no stranger to robberies, your house being a prime target for thieves; it was secluded, sitting in the rural area between Rhodes and Saint Denis; it was rich-looking, with three visible floors and a basement; and it had low security. The last issue you had tried many times to get resolved, but to no avail. Maybe this time you’d get your husband to spend the extra money for guards.
Normally, would-be thieves would be too loud as they entered, alerting either you or your husband of their presence, and he was able to scare them off before they could get their hands on anything. 
This time, though, you hadn’t heard a single thing. The only reason you were downstairs in the kitchen was because you needed a glass of water. In the darkness, the only source of light being the candle in your hand and a few oil lamps outside, you hadn’t seen the form of the man, bumping straight into him as you rubbed sleep from your eyes. 
The two of you stood deathly still, watching each other with bated breath. You hadn’t made a noise, even though the smart thing to do would be to start screaming your head off. Something about this felt… different, for some reason. You slowly brought up the light, making sure to not startle the intruder, just in case he had an eager trigger finger. 
You weren’t able to gleam many details of the man, mainly because of the low light, but also because a bandana covered the lower half of his face. He had medium length hair, the color indiscernible, and he wore a simple blue button up and a pair of jeans. The most interesting thing you saw on him, though, was his hat. It was visibly well-loved, the leather ripped and worn from years of use, and you were able to make out a clear bullet-hole on the rim of it. A piece of rope wrapped around it, the material frayed and barely hanging on. 
It was when you opened your mouth to speak that he moved, bringing a finger up to his covered lips in a hush gesture. “Don’t scream,” you heard him mutter. Whatever voice you were expecting the stranger to have, it certainly wasn’t that. It was low, gravely, with a pleasant drawl that had you shivering. Or maybe it was the cold. You were only in a nightgown, after all. 
You shook your head fervently, creating wind that threatened to blow out the fragile flame of your candle, trying to express to the man without opening your mouth that you were in fact not about to cry for help. He seemed to relax at that, but it was difficult to tell what he was feeling, the only gauge being his eyes and hard to read body language.
“So,” you began, holding your free hand up reassuringly when he tensed up again, expecting you to go back on your word, like any sane person would do. “So,” you tried again, “what do you need?” You made sure to keep your voice as quiet as possible, not wanting to alert the other person in the house.
The stranger cocked his head, rightfully confused by your question. You confused yourself with your own question, but it was the only way you could think to proceed the conversation. “I ain’t quite sure what you mean, miss.”
“You're in here for a reason, so what is it? What do you need?” When you were met with silence, you were starting to get impatient. Hell, all you wanted was a glass of water and to go back to your warm bed, but now you had to deal with a stranger in your house. You half-debated just leaving him to his devices and dealing with the consequences in the morning. It’s not like you cared about the expensive items in your house; they didn’t even belong to you. “Money? Food? Shelter? Or are you here to extort Mr. Kerrigan?” You added with a chuckle, but only you seemed to find it amusing. 
When he continued to stare at you like you’d grown a second head, you sighed. “Look, if you aren’t gonna say anything, then you should leave. He could wake up at any minute, and he isn’t going to be so nice about this.”
That seemed to do the trick, pulling him out of whatever deep thought he was in. You watched his eyes dance around, before he slowly started to back away. You saw that he was wearing spurs, which made his silent entry that much more bewildering. “You don’t gotta-”
Your name being called had you both freezing, and you saw him bring his finger up again. Turning your head to look up the staircase behind you, you were able to see the silhouette of your husband at the top, glancing down at you with hands on his hips. You heard him call out your name again, annoyance evident in his voice. Even without the attitude, it was much less pleasant sounding than the strangers, but now it was downright irritating. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you responded with a soft hm? 
“Everything alright down there?” 
Glancing back over at the intruder, your mouth gaped uselessly as you tried to come up with an excuse that would keep him upstairs. The man stood ready to bolt, not quite sure what you were about to say. “Yeah,” you stuttered out before he got even more annoyed. Your husband, Hans Kerrigan, was someone who did not wait for an answer. “I, uh, stubbed my toe,” you offered lamely, not sounding confident even to your ears. 
Turning your head back to the staircase, you half-expected to see him descending, but were pleasantly relieved when you saw him still standing at the top. “You sure?” He questioned, and you nodded, even though you knew that he wouldn’t be able to see it. 
“Yeah. I’ll… I’ll be back up in a minute.”
After a moment of tense silence, you heard him sigh. “Alright. Just be quiet.” With that, his figure disappeared, and you let out a breath of relief. Turning your head back around, you were surprisingly disappointed to find empty air. For a moment, you stood there, fully convinced that you had just imagined the whole scenario. 
The fading scent of gunpowder and tobacco told you that it was real. 
Bewildered, you went to the front door, testing it with a few quick turns. It moved easily, no longer locked like it was hours prior, and you were sure to fix it. The next rational thing to do would be to plant something behind the door, because the intruder clearly would be able to lockpick it right back open, just as he had done the first time. 
Instead, you turned back toward the kitchen, continuing out on the task you had originally set out to do. You were definitely not as thirsty as you were minutes ago, but you still poured a small glass just for the sake of it, and you set down the candle on the counter. Sipping slowly, you couldn’t get the man out of your head, for multiple reasons. The most obvious reason was that he had broken into your house, so of course you were going to be thinking about it. But you would be a liar if you said that there wasn’t something… alluring about him. His voice was already plaguing your mind, and there was an almost kindness about him that you weren’t expecting that had you replaying the events in your head. 
There were so many things that he could’ve done to hurt you, but he didn’t. Not once did he reach for a weapon, remembering now the gun belt hanging loosely from his hips. Not once did he seriously threaten you, only telling you to not scream for help. Not once did he make any move to restrain or hurt you, keeping his space. You knew that it was crazy that something like that would be the epitome of kindness for you, but it wasn't like you were seeing it anywhere else. He was probably the nicest interaction you’d had in the last year, maybe even longer. God, did you enjoy the company of the man who broke into your house?
Having long since finished the small cup, you set in gently on the countertop, the glass ringing out with a soft noise. Not quite ready to go back to bed, you made your way to one of the windows that lined the front of the house, glancing out into the night-filled yard. Trees swayed in the wind as you gazed over the yard, and it looked undisturbed, the only sign of life being a small skunk that skittered across the grass. After closer examination, however, you were able to see a light trail of footprints in the dirt path leading to the front door, one set heading toward it and another moving away. You hoped that the wind would carry them away by the morning.
A couple minutes of watching out the window turned into several, your mind preoccupied with thoughts of the man. It was only when a cold draft from the window hit your body, causing you to shiver. Right, you were only in your nightgown. Running your hands up and down your body, you tore yourself away, quickly making your way back up the stairs after grabbing the candle. 
Skipping the first room that greeted you when you reached the top, you opened the second room’s door slowly, extinguishing the candle's flame with a puff of air. Your bed greeted you, and you were able to see the shape of Hans under the covers, back facing your side of the bed. Stepping softly across the wooden floors, you slipped under the silk sheets without making any noise. The bed shifted under your weight, and you froze, waiting to see if you woke the man beside you. When he didn’t stir, you settled in fully, still warm from when you were laying in it earlier. 
You really did try to fall asleep, trying to think of anything besides the stranger, but you found yourself going back to him in your mind. You really shouldn’t be thinking about him this much, but you found yourself not caring. This was the most interesting thing to happen in a while, so you were going to enjoy it while you could. 
As you tossed and turned in your bed, you were eventually able to fall asleep, your dreams luckily free of the stranger. Yet one thought rang through your mind the entire time. 
You needed to see him again. 
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
Rhodes was a quaint town, red dust painting every surface available, and contained a few businesses that provided a livable amount of money for the town.
You hated it.
It was definitely a quaint town, old-fashioned in every sense of the world, stuck in pre-war ideas and mindsets. The dust was irritating, staining anything remotely light a deep russet red, which took hours to get out. And the businesses there would be fine if they weren’t blindly loyal to the Gray family, and showed nothing but contempt for outsiders. 
You would’ve liked to stay home today, as it was far enough away from the godawful town that you didn’t have to deal with it, but here you were, stuffed into a tight carriage with your husband across from you. He needed to run into the town today, needing to talk with the bank there about something you weren’t quite sure about. He purposely kept you out of his business affairs, claiming that it was no talk for a lady. 
You knew very little about your husband’s job, besides for the fact that he was very wealthy and very powerful. You also knew that he ran some kind of distillery of sorts, but that’s about it. Whenever you asked, he shrugged you off. 
So you had kept your mouth shut when he woke you this morning, bringing you to accompany him during his short trip. Like normal, you had gotten ready on your own, Hans disappearing into his office. You had felt a strange calling to wear a blue dress today, and you kept your hair free of any pins and ribbons, not quite wanting to put the effort into your appearance today. You were tired, but you hadn't been able to remember why. 
It was when you had headed downstairs, past the locked door of his office, that you remembered. A large, dusty footprint dirtied the kitchen floor, which you normally kept pristine. It had all come back to you then like a wave, the strange man in your house. His voice, his demeanor, the clothes he wore, everything. With a gasp, you had quickly swept away the mark with your stocking-covered foot, most likely dirtying the garment, but you didn’t care. You just had to get it out of sight before Hans came downstairs.
You had barely managed to make it disappear before you heard the creak of the stairs as he descended them, an indiscernible look on his face as he regarded you. After exchanging your usual morning pleasantries, and after you had made him a cup of coffee, the two of you had set out , boarding the carriage that he had hired for the house. Even after two years of marriage, you still hadn’t wrapped your head around the sheer amount of money Hans had. 
Tucked into Ringneck Creek, your house was surrounded completely by thick forest and shallow water, with ample amounts of wildlife that were enjoyable to watch. The natural formation of the ground had been altered, though, when the house was built, having created a path that connected it to the main road, but it was still quite a ways from it. It made the ride to towns that much longer, though.
So now here you sat, fiddling with your bag as you watched the passing greenery.You had about a ten minute ride to Rhodes, and about twenty to the bigger city of Saint Denis, so you settled back into your seat, your husband staring out the window in a similar manner, as there was never much to talk about between the two of you.
It was crazy to you, that you’d been married for only two years, because it sure as hell felt longer than that. And it wasn’t like you had a choice when it came to marrying the man across from you. Your parents needed the money, at risk of losing their entire tobacco industry that they created, so they had married you off to Hans Kerrigan, the rich businessman who’d been a bachelor longer than you’d been alive. He needed a wife, and they needed money, so it was an easy decision, one that you had no say in. Archaic, yes, but necessary. 
Hans Kierrigan was at least twenty years your senior, with silver hair to account for his age. He wasn’t completely unattractive, no, but he certainly wasn’t your type, one big reason being how much older he was to you. A thick beard covered his lower face, and you had yet to see him without it. He had dull, steel-colored eyes, and his brow was always furrowed, like he was constantly deep in thought. 
He wasn’t a terrible husband, but wet paper had more personality than him. He only cared about one thing, that being money, and trying to talk to him was like talking to a wall. You think you’ve only heard him crack one joke during the entire time you’ve known him, and it was when he was absolutely hammered. He provided for you, keeping your necessities fulfilled, and sent monthly allotments of money to your family to keep them afloat. In return, you remained loyal to him over the past years, you looked after the house, took care of him when need be, and were expected to bear him a child, which proved to be a more difficult task than imagined. You were also expected to keep up public appearances, Mr. And Mrs. Kerrigan the talk of towns, the American Dream couple.
He wasn’t mean, having never raised a hand to you or screamed at you, so for that you were grateful. He never touched you, quite frankly, and when the two of you were intimate, he would limit contact as much as possible.You knew that other girls in similar situations couldn’t say the same, so you counted your blessings, no matter how small they were. 
However, just like any man, he had his flaws. He wasn’t a person to wait for things, expecting to receive them on a golden platter, and he never took ‘no’ for an answer. He was also extremely controlling, some days worse than others, and you always needed his permission before doing something. You wanted to go into the city? He was accompanying you, limiting you to certain areas. You wanted to send a letter? He was reading them, making you re-write them if he didn’t like the content. You wanted to learn how to garden? That time he had laughed in your face, and you never asked again. 
Needless to say, you weren’t happy. You felt trapped, lonely, and like your life was coming to a complete standstill. You had dreams and aspirations before this marriage. You wanted to inherit the family’s business, you wanted to go to school, you wanted to travel the world. Hell, you had wanted a true relationship with someone, never having one before Hans. And now those dreams were buried in the dirt, rotting. You almost envied them.
The only moments you found yourself feeling some semblance of joy was when Hans went away, which happened quite frequently, and for long periods of time. During those days and weeks by your lonesome, you felt like you were able to move more freely, and you did things that he normally wouldn’t allow. You snuck into the city under the cover of the night. You had a little garden hidden behind some trees, where he was never going to find it, because he never explored the woods surrounding the house. If you had people to write to, you would’ve sent them countless letters. But even all that couldn’t combat the loneliness that you felt. It’s teeth sunk into your heart, poisoning everything you did with a melancholic venom. 
But if your family was thriving, then you would force a smile on your face every morning. The eldest of ten siblings, it was your responsibility to make sure your family would have a successful future. If halting your own life meant everyone else got to continue with theirs, then you’d stay. But you missed them, not having seen them since the day your father had approached you with the marriage certificate in his hands and Hans trailing behind him. You knew they had moved houses soon after you got married, so if your husband would even let you send a letter to them, you had no idea where to send it to. 
But you knew that they were well, which was all you needed to know. Sighing lightly, you felt Hans cold eyes on you, forcing you out of your thoughts. “What’s wrong?” He asked, the question coming from a place of habit rather than care, and instinctively you felt a smile force its way onto your lips.
“Nothing’s the matter,” you lied, and it sounded more confident than your lie last night. “Sorry.”
Either satisfied with your answer, or he simply didn’t care that much, he nodded, before returning to glance out the window. Every conversation with Hans felt scripted like that, and it was exhausting. Refraining from sighing again, you joined in looking out the window, you were startled to find the familiar shapes of Rhodes outside, the journey being pretty much over.
It only took another half-a-minute before the carriage was coming to a halt outside the bank, which was on your right. On your left you saw a prison wagon drive past, with two men on horses accompanying it. It wasn’t unusual for there to be a prison wagon in town, a lot of bounty hunters picking up work from the Scarlett Meadows Sheriff’s Office. What nearly caused you to stumble in surprise as Hans helped you out of the carriage was a familiar hat adorning the driver of the wagon. Yet again, you weren’t able to get a good glimpse of him, and Hans’ voice halted you from following the stranger with your eyes. 
“I’ll be in there for a bit,” Hans explained, gesturing to the bank. “Go ahead and wait for me right out here.”
“Could I run to the store? I need some things for dinner tonight,” you felt the lie tumble from you before you could stop it. 
Well, it wasn’t a complete lie, you did need to buy some supplies, but it definitely wasn’t what you were expecting to do today. He seemed to buy it, relenting after some thought. “Alright,” he started backing away toward the bank, “meet me over here when you’re done. Don’t take too long.” He paused for a moment. “You got enough money?” He asked, nodding to your bag which you held in one of your hands. It was kind of a ridiculous question, but you nodded anyway. Without another word, he walked into the bank, finally leaving you to your lonesome. 
As quickly as you could without drawing attention to yourself, you crossed over to the store before avoiding it completely. The men had all dismounted their rides, their horses hitched up on to the post outside of the office. A group of four men stood at the base of the stairs, deep in conversation. The only person you were able to recognize was Sheriff Leigh Gray, who was partially facing you as he talked with the three unrecognizable men. 
At least, two of them were unrecognizable. 
That familiar hat became even more clear as you approached. It looked even more worn in the sunlight, the brown leather turning a sandy tan in certain spots. The owner of said hat had his back to you, but you were still able to hear his voice clearly. It was just as you remembered, gravely and low and you could listen to it for ages. You couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips as you approached, and you forgot how nice it was to have a genuine one. Your wish of seeing him again was happening faster than you thought it would.
You realized you had no idea what you were going to say to the men, causing you to second guess what you were doing. It’s not like you could go up and say Hey, weren’t you in my house last night? Luckily Leigh saved you from having to come up with anything, his concerned expression turning to a welcoming one as he finally saw you. 
He clapped one of the men he was talking with on the shoulder, who had longer black hair that fell to his shoulders, slicked back with pomade. “You remember me tellin’ you ‘bout the Kerrigans?” The men gave partially-interested noises in response. “Well,” he gestured to you with his free hand, and the black haired man followed where he was pointing, turning around to face you completely. He was richly dressed, wearing something you’d see your husband wear, not a bounty hunter. Weird. 
The other man also turned. He also had brown hair, with a thick beard similar to Hans’. He was chewing on a piece of straw, and you watched him play with the repeater in his hands, antsy. The only one who didn’t turn to you was the man with the hat, but you heard him hum inquisitively to Leigh as you halted a few feet behind the group.
“Let me introduce y’all to Mrs. Kerrigan.”
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a-aexotic · 7 months ago
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𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡, chapter 5
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𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ! 4.6k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ! typical gossip girl things, mention of drinking, FIGHTING!!!! (so much of it), making up ;)
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You sat next to Charlene at the dining table, listening to Josie talk about the nursery for the new baby. You nodded along mindlessly, playing with your cereal as your mind raced.
Thoughts of Serena, Blair, Nate, and the tangled web of relationships swirled in your mind, each thread pulling you in a different direction. You felt torn between loyalty to your friends, the desire to maintain peace, and the need to address the underlying issues that had driven a wedge between you all. Lost in your thoughts, you absently stirred your cereal, the clinking of the spoon against the bowl serving as a distant echo in the sea of your racing thoughts.
"Y/N, did you hear me?" Your father spoke as you startled, snapping back to the present moment. You looked up, meeting your father's expectant gaze as he repeated his question.
"Sorry, Dad, what were you saying?" you asked, attempting to mask your distraction with a faint smile.
"I was asking you when the Ivy mixer is. I wanted to come by and help everyone out, I know Lily is in charge of it but I can't get a hold of her." Your father explained as he bit into his toast.
You nodded, recalling the details of the upcoming Ivy mixer. "Oh, right. I think we're finding out today at the assembly. I can double-check with Lily to make sure everything's on track, and I'll let you know if she needs any help."
"Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate it. It's always chaotic trying to organize these events." Your dad chuckled as he chewed, moving his gaze back to Charlene. "And uh... for the mixer, Josie was hoping that you'd stick with Charlene and help her get some networking done with the reps. She wants to go to Harvard, like you."
You glanced at Charlene with a faint smile but she ignored you, nodding along to what your father was saying. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and nodded. "Yeah, sure."
"My two daughters at Harvard would be a dream." Your father grinned proudly and again, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.
She's not your daughter, you wanted to shout but you bit your tongue and took a bite of your now, soggy cereal.
──౨ৎ──
"And then he was all like, having my two daughters at Harvard would be a dream." You mocked your father as you walked out of the assembly, Blair walking next to you as she scoffed, Kati and Isabel walking close behind you two. "And I wanted to say that she isn't his actual daughter but I didn't."
"You should've. I would pay to see his reaction." Blair smirked as you laughed, nodding along before Blair's expression dropped. She rolled her eyes and you turned to see where she was facing, finding Serena walking toward you. She was late, she wasn't at the assembly.
"Oh, too bad you missed the assembly." Blair feigned sympathy as she looked up at the blonde. "Brown doesn't offer degrees in slut," she continued with an amused expression as Serena offered her a sarcastic smile.
Blair walked away with a proud grin, leaving you and Serena alone. You and Serena both exchanged glances before bursting out laughing. It was supposed to be an insult but you both couldn't help but laugh.
As the laughter subsided, Serena shook her head, a smile still playing on her lips. "Leave it to Blair to come up with the most creative insults."
"Yeah, she definitely has a way with words," you replied, still chuckling as you glanced back at Blair, who was now chatting with Kati and Isabel.
Serena's smile faded slightly as she looked back at you, her expression turning more serious. "Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something about yesterday."
You waved it off, giving her a smile. "I'm sorry I blew up on everyone, I was just stressed out. And don't worry about it, okay? I'm sure Dan will come around."
Serena gave you a sad smile before shrugging. "I... I don't think so but maybe it's for the best. Dan doesn't wanna get involved in all this Upper-East Side bullshit and I don't blame him."
You gave her a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry, S."
Serena nodded, her gaze dropping slightly as she played with the edge of her sleeve. "Thanks, Y/N. It's just been a lot to deal with lately."
You reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I understand. But hey, you've always been resilient. You'll get through this too."
Serena offered you a small, appreciative smile before straightening up, determination shining in her eyes. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Y/N."
But before you could reply, you heard Blair's voice ringing in your ear. "Y/N, hurry up we need to get to class." You couldn't help but roll your eyes as you quickly said bye to Serena, catching up with Blair and beginning to walk to class together.
The group was split up into two as you played field hockey. It was all fine up until Blair decided to keep targeting Serena and fouling her. Blair's aggressive targeting of Serena didn't go unnoticed, and it soon became clear that her fouls were deliberate attempts to hurt her.
"Blair, ease up!" you called out, frustration evident in your voice as you gestured for her to back off.
Blair shot you a defiant glare but made no move to change her tactics. Serena, on the other hand, remained composed despite the mounting pressure, refusing to let Blair's antics get to her.
"Enough, Blair!" Serena's voice cut through the tension, her tone firm as she finally stood up to Blair's relentless targeting.
"It's enough when I say it's enough." Blair snapped as she walked away, making sure to hit Serena's shoulder as she did. You and Serena exchanged looks before you sighed, continuing to focus on the game.
And finally, Serena had enough. She ran up to Blair, tackling her to the ground. Serena got on top of her and began pulling her arms as you ran up behind them, irritation on your face as you tried to break them up.
"Get off of me!" Blair shouted as Serena kept pulling on her arms. You tried to get her off of Blair to no use.
"Serena, stop!" you shouted, your voice strained as you attempted to pry her off Blair. But Serena was relentless, her anger driving her actions as she continued to grapple with Blair.
"Is that enough yet?!" Serena shouted back before she accidentally pulled you down with them, earning a grunt from you. She scoffed and got up, but not before Blair could get up. "So it's actually come to physical blows, huh?"
"Guys, what the hell?!" you exclaimed, your voice tinged with anger as you pushed yourself up from the ground, feeling the ache from the fall. "This isn't helping anyone!"
But Serena seemed oblivious to your words, her attention solely focused on Blair as she stood there, seething with rage. "You think you can just keep targeting me like this and get away with it? Well, not anymore!"
"Serena, Blair, this needs to stop," you said firmly, your voice cutting through the tension. "Jesus Christ, I mean we're friends, or at least we used to be."
Serena turned to face you, her expression still flushed with anger. "She started it, Y/N. She's been targeting me ever since-"
"I don't care who started it!" you interjected, your voice tinged with exasperation.
Serena looked back at Blair with a little bit of hesitation, sighing before speaking up. "Fine. Truce?"
Blair glared back at you and Serena before her expression turned to pained, a slight smirk on her face as she does so. "Ow! My leg!"
You couldn't believe it. Blair was faking an injury to deflect from the tension of the moment. It was a classic Blair move, but it only served to frustrate you further. You exchanged a bewildered glance with Serena, both of you realizing that Blair was resorting to her usual tactics to cause more issues.
"Blair, come on," you said, your voice tinged with irritation.
Blair winced dramatically, clutching her leg as she looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes. "I'm not faking it, Y/N! It really hurts!" Kati and Isbell ran to her side, helping her stand up as you glared back at her.
"Serena, you're outta here." The coach shouted as Serena walked off, throwing her hockey stick to the ground.
"I hope it's broken." Serena spat as she walked off the field.
You rolled your eyes as you watched Kati and Isbell help walk Blair to the nurse's office. You hated being in between them but they were your best friends, it's just what you have to do. It's part of the job but you were beginning to wonder if all of this was really worth it.
──౨ৎ──
You walked into the Ivy Mixer behind your father and Charlene, who was wearing a Harvard sweater; the same one that your father had also gotten you when you were younger. Your father seemed proud, chatting animatedly with Charlene about the opportunities awaiting her at Harvard.
You glanced around the room, taking in the prestigious Ivy League representatives mingling with students. Despite the elegance of the occasion, you couldn't shake off the tension that had been building within you since the recent conflicts with Blair and Serena.
Your father guided you and Charlene through the crowd, introducing her to some of the representatives and encouraging her to network and make connections. You watched as Charlene navigated the room with ease, her confidence shining through as she conversed with the representatives.
Meanwhile, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. While you had once dreamed of attending Harvard, recent events had left you questioning everything. Did you even want to go to Harvard now apparently, Charlene had to attend too?
"And my daughter, Y/N is the Student Council president of the school. She is also second in her class." Her father spoke as you nodded along, shaking the hand of one of the Harvard reps.
You had worked hard to earn your position as Student Council president and to maintain a high academic standing, but now it all felt hollow. The pressure to live up to your father's expectations, to uphold the family reputation, felt suffocating. And now, with Charlene also vying for a spot at Harvard, it only added to the weight on your shoulders.
"I see you're running low on champagne, would you like me to find you another glass, sir?" You asked politely, offering to assist the Harvard representative in replenishing his drink.
The representative nodded appreciatively, offering you a grateful smile. "Yes, thank you. That would be lovely."
You excused yourself from the conversation with a polite nod and made your way to the refreshments table, your mind still consumed with conflicting thoughts.
You looked up to meet the eyes of Dan, a polite smile on your lips. You didn't know him well but you still felt gulity about the whole Serena and brunch thing, oh and the whole thing with Chuck and Jenny. The poor guy can't catch a break.
"Hey, Dan," you greeted him, setting down the champagne bottle. "I thought you were the Dartmouth usher?"
Dan returned your smile, though there was a hint of hesitation in his expression. "No, Nate is. I thought... actually never mind."
"I know. You deserved to get that position." You whispered as he nodded sheepishly.
Dan's expression softened at your words, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate that."
You saw his gaze wander to behind you, you turned around to meet Serena's blue eyes. She walked toward the table, irritation on her face.
"Let me guess, Blair?" You asked and pretended to be shocked when she nodded, Dan letting out a soft chuckle. "Would've never guessed. What did she do?"
"Well, you know how I wanted to go to Brown. And she wanted to go Yale? Well now, somehow, we switched. She's talking to the stupid Brown reps and I'm stuck with the Yale reps." Serena explained as you and Dan exchanged looks.
"Oh, yeah. I get it. I mean since you don't actually have to worry about getting into college, why not make the whole evening about screwing over Blair?" Dan spoke sarcastically as he tried to hand her a drink.
You looked in between them, concern etching your features. Dan seems pretty bitter about the whole thing but you couldn't even blame. And as if things couldn't get even more awkward, Nate walked up to the table, looking at the refreshments.
"Hey." Serena turned to greet Nate, only to be completely ignored. You couldn't help but stifle a laugh as you took a sip of your drink, watching the whole thing.
"Wait, you're seriously not gonna talk to me? Like literally not speak?" Serena's voice held a mixture of disbelief and frustration as she looked at Nate, who remained silent, his gaze fixed on the refreshments.
Nate finally looked up, his expression unreadable as he met Serena's gaze. "Hey."
"Oh, much better. Thanks guys." She sighed, looking in between the boys before looking back at you. You gave her a sympathetic smile before she gives you a thumbs up, walking away.
"That was cold, Nate." You spoke, slightly amusement in your voice as you finally began refilling the champagne.
He glared back at you and you put your hands up in mock surrender as you exchanged a glance with Dan, who looked like he was enjoying the scene. Silence settled in between them before Dan spoke up.
"So, um... what's he like?" Dan asked, referring to the Dartmouth rep.
"Like a Dartmouth English lit professor I have nothing in common with. Guess I could tell him how I got everything because I'm an Archibald." Nate rambled slightly as Dan's expression turned from amused to sympathetic. You took that as your cue to leave, nodding your head to Dan as you walked away.
You put all the drama in the back-burner for the night, deciding to just engage with the Harvard rep. You were slightly glad to see that Charlene began talking more to the Princeton rep, allowing you to focus on your conversation without distractions.
You couldn't help but keep looking through the glass door, watching Nate as he talked with Dan. You noticed when he walked away and when his father tried to pull him back, but he pushed him away. It looked tense but you couldn't afford to get distracted, you just focused on talking with the Harvard rep.
You thought the rest of the evening would go smoothly up until you and Blair got up to announce this year's local institution they were going to sponsor.
"Can I have everyone's attention please?" Blair spoke as she walked up toward the podium, a polite smile plastered on her lips as you followed close behind. "Welcome again to the Constance Billard St Judas Ivy Week Mixer. I'm Blair Waldorf, chair of the the community outreach committee."
You plastered on a polite smile as well. "And I'm Y/N Winfrey, Student Council President."
The crowd began to clap before you continued. "Every year, our schools choose to support one local institution that we feel benefits our community."
"This year, our schools have chosen to honor the Osteroff Center." Blair continued as the crowd applauds. "This semester our choice is a very personal one because the center has helped one of our own."
Your expression suddenly turns to a confused one as you turned to face Blair. This was what she was not what we planned to say. Your eyes scanned the crowd and they fell on Serena and her family and it suddenly dawned on you.
"It's because of their excellent program which aids so many young addicts and alcoholics that a student here with us today is clean and sober." Blair spoke, feigning concern. "At least for now. Can I please have Serena van der Woodsen join us on stage?"
Your jaw dropped but you tried to keep your composure. You couldn't believe Blair. Serena slowly walked up to the stage and glared at Blair, not even acknowledging you.
"Don't try to deny it, Chuck saw you." Blair whispered as you tried to keep a smile on your face, trying to hide the inner panic you feel at the moment. Blair pulls you aside, making sure that Serena is the main focus as the crowd begins to clap.
"Hi, I'm Serena van der Woodsen. I just want to thank my friend Blair Waldorf for recognizing the Osteroff center and all the good things they do. Thanks Blair. Oh, and of course our president, Y/N." Serena puts on a fake smile as she begins to clap, the crowd clapping along.
"At the center, one of the main things that we learn is forgiveness. About how in order to move forward with our future we must forgive those who have wronged us in the past. And we must ourselves ask for forgiveness from those whom we've wronged. Without this forgiveness, innocent people-"
"Alright, thank you Serena. Thank you." She cut her off with a smile as the crowd claps again, Serena walking off the stage. You gave her a sympathetic smile as she walks away, making sure to push Blair slightly so that the crowd could focus on you again.
With a forced smile plastered on your face, you stepped forward to address the crowd once again, trying to regain control of the situation. "Thank you, Serena, for sharing your story with us. And thank you, Blair, for your efforts in organizing this event."
You took a deep breath, pushing down the rising frustration within you. "As Serena mentioned, forgiveness is indeed a very important aspect of moving forward. And tonight, let's remember the importance of supporting each other, even in times of adversity."
The crowd responded with polite applause, but you could sense the tension lingering in the air. But before you could even address Blair, she walked off the stage.
You ran after her, pulling on her arm. "Blair, that was a low blow, even for you."
As you pulled on Blair's arm, she turned to face you, her expression unapologetic. "Oh, please. It's not like I said anything that wasn't true."
But you held on, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "No, Blair, I won't let you brush this off. What you did to Serena was cruel and unnecessary. You publicly humiliated her in front of everyone. And not just anyone, college reps! That is insane."
Before Blair could respond, Serena came up to her with a tired expression. "What the hell was that? So we good now? We square?"
"No because nothing I do will ever be as bad as what you did to me." Blair spat as she glared up at Serena.
"Look, I'm asking you, please. I'll stop if you will." Serena's voice was hurt as she looked down at the brunette.
"You're just saying that because today, you lost. And you're gonna keep losing." Blair's voice was sharp with bitterness as she glared up at Serena.
Before Serena could respond, you let out a groan as you looked in between your best friends. "I'm done with both of you. Are you serious right now? You are acting like a child, Blair. You have no idea what you did up there, it wasn't even Serena-"
"Y/N, stop. No." Serena stopped you before you could continue.
"Why do I even bother, I'm done. I am done with the petty drama and catfights," you exclaimed, frustration evident in your voice as you turned away from Blair and Serena.
Serena reached out, grabbing your arm gently to stop you from walking away. "Y/N, wait."
You pulled your arm out of her grip and walked away and out of the mixer, you were calling it a night.
"Even Y/N's done with your bullshit, Serena." You heard Blair scoff as you walked off. You didn't even know where you running off to until you were there.
You were in the back of building and you saw Nate sitting on the bench, a blunt placed perfectly on his lips as he took a drag. You knew exactly where to find him. He looked up and noticed you, taking him by surprise.
You didn't say anything, all you did was sit next to Nate on the bench as you put your face in yours hands. You looked up at Nate and he gave you a faint smile before handing you the blunt.
You took a deep drag and you felt your lungs burn up. It had been a while since you'd swore off smoking but you needed, especially after the day you had. And apparently, so does Nate.
As you sat there next to Nate, passing the blunt between you, a heavy silence settled over the both of you. It was a strange comfort, finding solace in each other's company amidst the chaos of your lives.
Eventually, Nate broke the silence, his voice soft. "You okay?"
You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head as the smoke swirled around the two of you. "Not really."
Nate nodded in understanding, his gaze fixed on you. "Yeah, me neither."
"What's got you all stressed out?" You spoke, leaning back on the bench as you looked back at him.
"My dad." He replied and you weren't surprised. "He wants me to go to Dartmouth and I keep telling him I wanna keep my options open. But he just ignores it. And now he's making me stay with Blair because of-" He paused as his eyes widen, realizing he's revealed too much.
You shake your head, urging him to continue. "I won't tell."
"He said I can't break up with Blair yet because he needs the Waldorfs on his good side because of business." Nate's voice trailed off, his frustration evident in his expression. "It's just... everything feels so out of my control, you know? Like I'm being pulled in all these different directions, and I don't know which way to go."
You listened quietly, understanding all too well the weight of family expectations and the pressure to please others. "That's... messed up," you muttered, unable to hide the concern in your voice. "Your dad shouldn't be pulling strings like that, especially when it comes to your personal life."
Nate let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Yeah, tell me about it. But what can I do? He's not gonna listen to me."
You nodded in understanding, knowing all too well the weight of familial expectations. "It's tough, but you'll figure it out. I know you will."
He returned your smile, a glimmer of gratitude in his eyes. "So what's going on with you? I thought you gave up smoking."
"I could say the same for you, Archibald." You teased as he let out a little chuckle, his falling back but his gaze still fixed on you. "It's a long... long story. I wouldn't even know where to begin."
"Let me take a guess," Nate sat up and turned to face you fully. "You feel like you're constantly being pushed and pulled between Serena and Blair. And the whole daddy issues thing hasn't fixed itself either."
Your eyebrows furrowed at Nate's very true statements. Could he really read you that well or was it really that obvious? You were speechless for a second as Nate let out another laugh.
"I've known you since we were kids, Y/N. I can read you better than anyone else. And plus, it isn't anything new. Serena and Blair have always fought and you've always been in the middle." Nate's words hit home, and you couldn't deny the truth in them. He had always been perceptive, able to see through the facade you sometimes put up for others.
"Yeah, you're right," you admitted with a sigh, running a hand through your hair. "It's just exhausting, you know? Trying to keep the peace between them while dealing with my own issues. Trying to keep everyone happy while feeling like I'm constantly being torn apart. And now with my dad pressuring me about college while also replacing me with Charlene."
Nate listened attentively, his expression sympathetic. "I get it, Y/N. It's a lot to handle. But just know that you're not alone in this. I'm here for you, always."
You looked back at him, a sudden surge of gratefulness hitting you. And suddenly, gulit hit you like a ton of bricks. The whole thing with Serena and Nate, you completely shut him out. You let out an exhale, not really knowing what to even say.
"I'm sorry, Nate."
"Why are you sorry?" He muttered as he looked back at you, concern evident in his features. "I should be the one apologizing. I've been an asshole."
"And I've been a bitch." You replied as you both smiled. You both laughed softly as Nate shook his head.
"It doesn't have to be complicated, you know?" Nate started, his voice soft as he looked at you with sincerity in his eyes. "We've been through a lot together, and I don't want things to be so hard between us."
You sighed, not really knowing what to say.
"Look I meant what I said at the Kiss on the Lips party, I'll forget about my feelings if it means we get to stay friends." Nate whispered as he looked back you, his voice gentle.
"But what if-"
"There's a million what if's, Y/N. And they don't matter." Nate spoke, coming off harsher than expected. "The whole honest truth is the last six months you've been gone have been hell. I have no one who I can be honest with and-and no one I can call at 3 in the morning because I can't sleep. No one I can genuinely depend on to listen to me."
You felt a pang of guilt at Nate's words, realizing the impact your absence had on him. "I'm sorry, Nate. I didn't realize..."
"It doesn't matter, I just want you in my life." Nate's gaze softened as he reached out to squeeze your hand reassuringly. "And we'll stay completely platonic because that's what you wanted, right?"
No. You wanted to shout no but as you thought about Blair and the million other things keep you guys apart, all you do was nod. "Right."
A smile began curving on his lips as he let out a relieved sigh. "Then it's settled."
You smiled back at your best friend. "It's settled."
You guys both gazed at one another for a few more seconds before he spoke up. "We should shake on it. You know, our handshake."
You let out a laugh as you suddenly remember your guys' secret handshake. It had been a while but how could you forget it?
With practiced ease, you and Nate stuck out your hands and intertwined your fingers, executing the series of moves that made up your secret handshake. As you finished, you both laughed again, feeling a sense of normalcy wash over you.
As you finished the handshake, Nate gave you a playful nudge. "See? Nothing's changed between us."
"Nothing at all," you agreed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.
You both sat there in silence for a while longer, the weight of the evening fading slowly. In that moment, sitting there with Nate, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. Maybe things would be okay, eventually.
Or maybe they wouldn't. But for now, you had each other, and that was enough.
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imdeadinsidesiriuslydead · 1 year ago
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~Cracked Mask~ pt.2
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Jason Todd x fem!reader
pt. 2 to the this
Minors! Don’t! Read! This! You have been warned!
warnings: cursing (I mean it’s Jason Todd so), feelings, miscommunication, frustration. Also smut?!? Maybe?!? Read and find out 😏😘
a/n: I really didn’t expect people to like the part 1 cause I kinda rushed through the ending. But I don’t see any angsty Jason fics that show his more awkward side and thought I would just have to write it myself. So enjoy.
—-
When you got back to the manor and took a shower you cried.
You didn’t cry cause Jason regret it. I mean you regretted it too. You cried cause you embarrassed yourself in front of your teammate.
You cried cause you had to look Batman, Thee Batman, in the eye and say you failed. You’ve never felt more embarrassed.
You got out of the shower and we’re heading back to your room when Barbara came wheeling over to you.
You put on a fake smile and greeted her as normal.
“what’s up?” You ask.
“what’s up with me? What’s up with you? Ever since getting back from that mission you’ve seemed off.” She said in a kind voice.
“I’m just-“ you swallowed “embarrassed that I failed my first mission with Batman there.” You said quietly.
This wasn’t just patrol, this was a real life big mission and you fail cause you were hit with sex pollen, which you are still trying to wrap your head around on why Poison ivy used that on you.
Barbara gave you a sympathetic look. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. Poison Ivy is tough. I didn’t take her down my first few tries.” She smiled.
“Really?” You asked. You had grown up with a poster of batgirl on your wall. You idolized her. She was your hero. It’s hard to think she ever failed when all the girl power posters made her seem untouchable.
“Oh yea.” She laughed. “One time Riddler knocked me out my first time fighting him.” She laughed remembering the good ole days. “Can you believe it? Riddler. He’s so scrawny!”
you laughed along with her and as you settled down she gave you a look.
“The first few missions by yourself won’t be perfect. You have to learn how to hold your own in a fight without Batman being there for backup. No one said it would be easy. But you get better by trail and error. You have to get real world experience of fighting the criminals one on one to be able to stop them. You’ll get it next time” she smiled.
You smiled back at her as your mind drifted back to the mission. It was cut short cause of the pollen.
that stupid fucking pollen.
If you had landed correctly on your fall, you wouldn’t have been affected by the pollen. You wouldn’t have desperately asked Jason to make you cu-
“Y/N. Did anything else happen on this mission?” She asked softly. “Did Jason say anything or do anything that should concern me?”
“No!” You reply almost too quickly. “No, the mission was my fault. He didn’t do anything.”
“okay.” She replied. But as she watched you walk back to your room her gut told her something was wrong. She had to ask Jason, she could always read him and get him to fess up.
———
Barbara sawed out Jason in the Library. He usually came in here to read or hide from Dick. She found him sitting on the couch reading “Pride and prejudice”
“Jace, I have a bone to pick with you.” She stated sternly, wheeling towards Jason.
“Can it wait? I’m at my favorite part.” He says not looking up.
“No it cannot. And you have read that book a thousand times since freshman year.” She says as she moves herself to sit on the couch.
“Jeez. What’yd do to piss off Bruce this time.” He laughed. But as Babs stared him down he stopped laughing.
“I’m here to talk about Y/N.” She states matter of factly.
Jason’s face falls.
Barbara sighs. “I don’t know what happened on the mission, and I’m not asking for you to tell me.” Jason sighs in relief. “But that does not mean that I’m going to let Y/N torture herself with overthink every single detail of the mission. Whatever happened between you two, you need to talk it out. Y/N’s working herself up over whatever happened.”
Jason looked away from her and grimaced.
“Look. Jace, I know you hate talking about feelings and everything but, to work as a team you need to be able to communicate. Y/N just wants to feel apart of this team. But it will always be blocked if you don’t fix whatever happened.” Barbara never breaks eye contact, showing her seriousness.
“Fine.” He says annoyed. “I’ll go talk about my feelings and apologize.” He gets up and walks to the door.
“You got this Jason!” Barbara laughs as Jason flicks her off.
———
Y/N was sitting on her bed folding laundry when she heard a knock on her door.
“Come in!” Jason walks through the door and awkwardly stands by it. Y/N looks up from her neatly folded clothes to see the last person she wanted to see right now.
“Do you need something?” Y/N asked trying really hard to maintain eye contact and act as if it was a normal conversation.
“We need to talk.” Jason states looking anywhere but her face. “I know your upset that we failed-“ he nervously played with his fingers.
“We don’t need to.” You say turning back to your laundry.
“Yes, yes we do. I need to explain my-“ he explained nervously
“Nope. No. I get it. I was in pain. I asked a question and put you on the spot. It all happened fast after you sniffed the pollen too. It makes you impulsive in your decisions and your-“ you swallowed “your words. I don’t need to hold you accountable for what you said. I-“
“Oh,You mean when I said I wanted you under me since you got here?” Jason cut you off. He seemed to have gotten what you were implying. “Wait you’re upset because you think I lied?”he asked, his face turning almost smug. He had a new found confidence all of a sudden. You were taken aback by the switch.
you froze. You waited for it, for the rejection. You felt tears brim your eyes as you were about to be subject to embarrassment.
“You asked me to help you, how could I not.” You felt a tear start to slip. “I couldn’t say no when you were begging so pretty for me.”
You felt like the wind had got knocked out of your lungs.
“The pollen doesn’t make you lie. The pollen makes you horny to a point of pain. It didn’t make me forcibly dry hump you.” You blushed at the crudeness of his words.
you felt his presence behind you. “I don’t know. I thought you were hot before, but when you were laying there begging for me”
he leaned closer, you could feel his breath on your neck. “I got so hard. Your blushing cheeks and wide eyes, that tight suit of yours. I just couldn’t help myself.” He whispers in your ear.
You could feel your wetness pooling in your panties. You skin felt on fire as his lips gently caressed your neck. You subconsciously leaned back into him.
“I didn’t lie. I wanted you under me since the second you walked through the door.” You felt his hand caress the side of your waist as he spoke. “ and I won’t lie now, I want you under me again, if you’ll have me,” he spoke as he removed his lips from your neck.
You turned around to face him. He looked so perfect. His hair slightly messy with the white tuff hanging in his face, his pink cheeks and eyes clouded by lust.
“I thought I had forced your hand. I thought you regretted it.” You said in a breathless daze.
“I regret I didn’t do it properly. With an introduction, date, and a romantic gesture but there was no time for that when you were in pain.” He said.
you got a mischievous glint in your eye as you looked up at him. “Well if you could restart, how would you have done it?” You ask.
“Well i start it with the simplest thing. The truth.” He had a charming smile on his face, all lust removed. “I like you, would you want to go out with me?” He asked.
“yes.” You said with a giggle. “Then what?”
Y/N watched his face contort to something more sinister. “I’d take you home, after the first few dates, and turn on so music.” He said with his seductive charm.
You turned around and pressed your back to his chest. “Then what?” You asked teasingly.
“Then we start our slow. Kissing you first, letting my hands explore your body.” He whispered as his lips returned to your neck. His hands slowly caressing your sides.
You breathed in a gasp.
“Then I’d lay you down and play with you.” He said as one hand made its way down your pants and the other went up to your chest.
He left wet open mouth kisses on your neck has his right hand slid underneath your waistband. He massaged your core through your panties and let out a moan in you ear.
You whined as you felt him rub your clit through the fabric. You wiggled your hips against his crotch, feeling his boner press into your lower back. His big frame engulfed you as he moved his arms around you.
He started kneeling your breast in his hand as his other slipped into your underwear and slid through your folds.
He groaned in your ear “so wet for me.”
you moaned as you felt a single finger enter you, and slowly pull out before entering again.
You moved your hand behind you and grabbed his bulge. He moaned in your ear before he removed your hand.
“Not right now, this is about you.” He said as he spun you around to face him before leaning in and kissing you.
His kiss was soft, like before on the rooftop but now, filled with so much need. He moaned against you lips and pushed you on the bed, knocking over the neat pile of folded laundry. He pulled away and smiled nervously “Sorry. I’ll fix that later.” He said before quickly kissing you again.
He slotted his hips between you legs and you felt his hard dick press against your thigh. He pulled at the end of your shirt before pulling back and looking in your eyes.
“May I?” He asked.
“Please.” You said breathlessly.
He smirked and took you shirt off. He started kissing down your neck and chest before unhooking your bra.
He looked at your bare breasts and moaned before kissing and sucking down them.
You moaned as he took them in his mouth. And grabbed his hair, tugging. He groaned against you skin sending divers down your spine.
his kisses get lower and lower until he is right above your waistband. He pulls your pants down and returns his attention back your clit. Rubbing as he watches in awe.
He looks you in the eye before moving to mouth at your clit through your panties. You moan again and grab his hair causing him the groan. The vibrations going straight to your clit.
“Fuck Jason.” You breath as he slowly pulls you panties down before spreading your legs open.
“Such a pretty pussy all wet for me.” He said as he slides his fingers through your wet folds.
“Jason please.” You beg.
“Please what?” He teases.
“Please eat me out!” You ask while looking him in the eye.
His facade falls for a second. His wide eyes and blushing cheeks giving away his own nervousness before he smiles his charming smile again.
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” He said before he leans down and immediately attaches his mouth to your clit.
He starts to eat you out like a starved man, and all you could do was moan. You gripped his hair occasionally tugging to feel him moan against your heat.
soon you were bucking your hips against his face begging him to go faster. He flicks his younger harder before replacing his younger with his fingers and rubbing your clit faster and harder.
the pressure almost made you cum in the spot but Jason had other plans.
He pulled away causing you to whine pathetically. He laughed before removing his shirt.
he quickly stripped to just his boxers
“Oh I was right. His did have rock hard abs.” You thought as you openly stared at his chest.
He had a scar that went down his abdomen and across his shoulder and chest. He was ripped and had a hard v line leading to his hard cock trapped in his boxer briefs.
“Jeez you’re hot.” You say before realizing what you said.
Jason blushed and laughed. “ I should be saying the same thing to you.” He smiled before leaning back over you.
His large frame and arms cages around your head and you ran you hands down his chest, feeling the ripples underneath your fingertips. You made eye contact as your hands landed on his dick, and squeezed.
He whimpered again. The whimper you remembered from the rooftop. The same whimper you have thought of we you had your hand down your pants last night.
He pulled his cock out and you stared in shock. He was so much bigger than you excepted. But you drooled at the thought of it inside you.
He rubbed the head against your heat, gathering wetness before positioning the top at your entrance.
“Are you sure?” He asked looking into your eyes with the most sincerity.
“Yes, Jason. Please I want you to fuck me.” You said as you slide you hand down to where your bodies meet. You start to play with your clit.
Jason sucks in a breath. “Fuck.” He breath before pushing in.
It hurt at first but Jason paused half way through to let you adjust.
Once he was all the way in, he slowly pulled out before pushing back in, starting a slow rhythm.
You moan and wrapped you arms around his middle, gripping on to whatever skin you fingers could find.
He started picking up pace and moved his head to suck on your nipple again. His hand that was t holding him up, falling down to where your bodies are joined, rubbing circles on your clit.
Everything was too much for you. “I’m gonna cum!” You moan as you squirted on his cock.
He moan at the sensation before ducking into you faster. “You look so gorgeous when you cum. Ohmyfuckinggod…” he said as he quickly pulls out and shoots his cum on your stomach.
He collapses on top of you and kisses you hard.
“Im sorry for making you feel like shit these past few days.” He says breathlessly.
“It all ok now” you say as he looks up and smiles at you. He hugs you and pulls you into his chest.
“I’m gonna take you on a proper date though.”
“I don’t doubt it.” You say as you eyes get heavy———
Bonus:
“For fuck sake Jason, when I said make up, I didn’t me make out. I didn’t have to hear the bed shaking all the way from down the hall!” Barbara yelled as Jason walked out of your room later.
——————/-
requests are open!
taglist:
@igotanidea
@princessbl0ss0m
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scourgebff · 11 months ago
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more from the hollycinder partners in crime au, their little family ( original concept/au idea by @the-owl-tree )! i imagine dovewing got cinderheart’s build with hollyleaf’s striking features while ivypool is leaning more towards hollyleaf’s tall stature but cinderheart’s recognizable markings.
holly’s disappearance into the tunnels after upending the entire normalcy of thunderclan had left quite a stir in her wake. ivy and dove grow up trying to make sense of and deal with her legacy in their own ways. cinder is in the middle, fiercely protecting her daughters’ youth from a world which wants to press the weight of everything on their shoulders far too readily while also struggling to figure out her own identity.
very detailed brainrot under the cut
it seemed like an ironic twist of fate in the eyes of lionblaze and jayfeather that dove was to take holly’s part in the prophecy, quickly sweeping her under their wing and closely guiding her paws. the lingering worry that she would stray from them and onto a dangerous path as holly had- doubly so since lion was made dove’s mentor. lion is fiercely protective of dove, seeing in her a bright potential and genuinely wants her to succeed. however it is quite clear to everyone that he’s projecting his sister onto her, for all her talent and resourcefulness going beyond the shadowy pelt and leading to heightened expectations. dove swallows down her discomfort at the pressure, wanting to make everyone proud and live up to their expectations, not only as warrior but as part of a prophecy so much larger than herself. one that she feels is partially to blame for driving her other parent away, as jay eventually reveals to her to full truth, leading to feelings of guilt she doesn’t even particularly understand. torn between stars and shadows, her paws wander over clan borders in search of an answer or escape for herself while discovering things she’d never expect.
meanwhile ivy feels like a spectator in her own life. listening in on near constant rumors and gossip about her family that she isn’t even included in, instigated by a cat she doesn’t even know. getting even further frustrated by just how passively helpless to remedy anything she is. while cinder treats the two girls completely equally, ivy isn’t blind to the practically palpable anticipation thunderclan holds towards dove. she’s a prodigy, with the undivided attention of both the clan’s healers and one if not the strongest warrior as a mentor, sent on journeys and given extra assignments as cats discuss how promising she is- yet also the level of suspicion cats hold towards her for being related to both a traitor, a healer, and a windclanner. ivy is of course of the exact same blood, yet she might as well not exist to anyone but dove and cinder bar a few extended family members. feeling isolated yet reluctant to try and burden her already troubled closest kin with insecurities she feels are ‘insignificant’, ivy meets hawkfrost who seems to not mind listening. in fact he says he relates to her, having a controversial family history himself. ivy asks for advice, ending up gaining confidence with his helpful suggestions and in turn drawing closer to the dark forest. she seems more well adjusted, yet in truth she’s merely getting better at lying and giving cats a spectacle to notice her by. while her social life improves, the unease in her grows as she’s gradually lured into working for the dark forest. ivy with new confidence and supposedly trustworthy new friends feels as if she can balance the danger despite rising escalation.
cinder, ivy, and dove remain extremely close. there is certainly friction between ivy and dove, however cinder is incredibly involved in their lives. refusing to let them lash out at each other and drift apart, she’s reminded all too painfully of her bitter last interaction with holly. she regrets how they ended, strangely enough considering how she didn’t regret dirtying her paws with blood to cover up holly’s sins. what she will not tolerate however is disrespect against her kits, growing estranged from her childhood friends jay and lion upon seeing how oddly they treat dove. it’s an uncomfortable situation, yet dove and ivy both are incredibly grateful to always have cinder in their corner. just for her they’ll set their reservations towards each other aside to form an at least temporarily stable truce. that being said, cinderheart being a reincarnation of cinderpelt actually has relevance to her character here that can be a whole other post on its own so i won’t go into it.
holly is more washed than a rack full of clean dishes icl. fleeing into the tunnels was a temporary solution, made at the peak of her mental crisis she initially tries to ignore how horrifically she treated so many cats. pushing it aside, and trying to restart herself. yet she can never forget cinder, even when she leaves the tunnels to become a wanderer cinder’s loyalty always sticks out so clearly. the kindness that holly had pushed and pushed and pushed until it broke and now here they were after that blow-out argument upon the gathering’s aftermath. a lot can be said for the time she’s out living as a rouge, but she eventually will have to come back and face her horrible past mistakes. unfortunately not before meeting a cat who might change everything for the worse- darktail C:
there’s some more i could mention because the cinderholly brainrot is infectious but i already rambled enough sorry TY IF U ACTUALLY READ THIS LOL UH </3 reward for making it down here is the fullbodies of these very normal not tortured individuals i consider them an equally normal amount
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urrockstar-xe · 11 months ago
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movie nights n pretty girls - c.m.m x fem!reader
posted dec 7th, 2023 5:25 pm
@popeheywardssecretgf asked: helloo, could u do a Chad Meeks Martin fluff where fem!reader goes to Mindy and Chad’s house to see Mindy (beacuse they were bestfriends friends before her and Chad started dating) and Chad’s just kinda like wtf she’s my girlfriend Mindy~ tyy!! (love your writing btw)
okay he's a little less jealous-y and i am so fucking sorry for the wait wow i really hope u enjoy, i think its pretty cute, thank u for ur patience xx
summary: Mindy needs to tell reader all abt her date and chad gets sidelined use of y/n, a lot of platonic!mindy x reader, not a lot of romantic!chad x reader :/ mentions of mindy getting laid lol
masterlist
wordcount: 1.2k
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“Y/n!” Mindy’s voice rang through your ears as the familiar front door of the Meeks-Martin household opened. “Hey, Mindy” You responded with a smile, backpack slung over one shoulder but quickly being slid down her arm as Mindy practically pulled you inside.
“So, you remember that girl I said asked me out?” “yeah, Ivy right?” Mindy’s face lit up at the name which verified your guess was correct. You listened with a smile as your best friend rambled on with details of the date as she mindlessly pulled snacks out of the pantry for your sleepover. You set your bag on one of the chairs at the table before leaning against the counter and taking one of the chip bags from Mindy. 
By the time Chad had gotten to the kitchen, Mindy’s arms were full, and her rant about the pretty girl was far from over, so Chad took it upon himself to carefully maneuver his way throughout the room to not get in his sister’s way before slinking his arms around your waist and hugging you in one swift movement. Mumbling a “hi” into your hair and pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before moving away from you and to the fridge, leaving you suddenly cold. 
You smiled, setting the bag of chips on the table by your backpack and crossing your arms, “so wait, did you kiss her or-“ Mindy cut off your question with harsh shushes, earning a laugh in return, “you need the full rundown before I tell you the best details”
“So she did kiss her” Chad answered, deciding the fridge was boring before grabbing a water bottle and closing the door, taking your previous place against the counter. 
You laughed as Mindy glared at her brother before she threw a majority of the snacks into a reusable bag from the grocery store, holding the few that didn’t fit in the bag in her hands. 
“Come, sweet Y/n, I’ll finish the story while we set up for our movie” Mindy announced, pointing at you while she picked up the bag and started for the living room. “Hey, so what are we watching?” Chad asked as the two of you followed Mindy. 
“Y/n/n and I will be watching Silence of the Lambs, you will be butting out of our movie night” Mindy responded matter of factly, ignoring the sympathetic smile you shot Chad as she abandoned all snacks on the coffee table. 
Chad scoffed, “You know she’s my girlfriend right? not yours?” Chad asked sarcastically, “Yeah, only after you stole her from me” Mindy scoffed back, accidentally reminding you about the fact they were twins as you watched the encounter, setting up the couch. “Y/n?” Chad said, getting your full attention, those brown. puppy eyes just waiting to work their magic on you. 
“No! Nuh-uh! don’t put her in that weird trance you do!” Mindy snapped her fingers in front of her brother’s face, causing you to laugh once more before slapping your hand over your mouth to stop it. “We have our date tomorrow night! think you can last till then?” You asked, smiling at Chad, watching as he rolled his eyes and took one of the bags of chips from the snack bag. “I’ll be waiting for you when you inevitably get bored of hearing about Ivy, babe,” Chad said pointing at you in a similar way to how Mindy did a few moments earlier before he turned around and started for the stairs, not missing the way Mindy called him an asshole as he flipped her off without turning back.
A few hours had passed now as you cleaned up the empty soda cans and a few beer bottles from the table when Mindy’s phone lit up with a text, initially you both ignored it, laughing at some dumb comment you had made about Hannibal Lecter as Mindy tied the trash bag and set it on the floor. It lit up a few more times this time catching your attention, “Tara maybe?” you asked with a shrug, Mindy mirrored your action before picking up her phone. “Oh my god it’s Ivy” she smiled, her face lighting up from the light on the screen. “What’s she saying?” You smiled, picking up the empty popcorn bowl. “Oh,” Mindy’s smile dropped before she shoved her phone into her back pocket, picking up the bag of trash. “She just wanted me to come over,” She shrugged, following you into the kitchen so you could put the bowl in the sink. “Told her I can’t, too busy with my Y/n,” she said teasingly, smiling at you as you scoffed. “You should go, movie’s over, it beats studying til we pass out,” You said with another shrug, “you’re sure you’re okay with it? I’m not gonna ditch you for a girl," 
"not ditching if I told you to go, it’s just for tonight! Maybe next movie night it’ll be a group thing” you teased, smiling at your friend as she let a toothy grin fall over her lips. 
“Okay, but only if you’ll still be here when I get back,” Mindy said, “let's go take this trash out and then I’ll go,” She smiled once more, practically skipping as you two went out the backdoor to the trash can. 
You were met back in the kitchen with Chad, cleaning your popcorn bowl as Mindy ran past him to get upstairs and find a different jacket. Making your way over to him silently, you laid your head on his arm as he turned off the water and shook his hands carefully to not splash you before reaching with his free arm for the rag and drying his hands. “Where you guys going?” he asked, tilting his head towards you. “Mindy got invited to Ivy’s, I told her to go” you responded, moving to look at his face properly. 
He smirked that half smile he always does before turning fully and pulling into his hoodie-covered chest, earning a laugh as he did so. “So, that means it’ll just be us?” 
“at least till she gets back, yes” You responded through a muffled laugh.
“Later losers! I’m getting laid!” Mindy called to you both as she rushed back down the stairs, as if on cue all three of you called out I love you at the same time before the door opened and swiftly shut. 
“Just me and you” Chad sighed in content, “now what?” you asked in response, leaning back just enough to look at his face, but quickly moved back into him for a kiss this time, a quiet hmph being heard as your lips hit his but seamlessly falling in tune with his movements. 
“I missed you” he mumbled into your hair after pulling back and hugging you once more, “ you saw me at school earlier” you laughed.
“That was forever ago,” he said through laughs. 
“I missed you too, let's go watch a movie,” you said, pulling away completely and taking his hand, leading him to the couch littered with blankets and pillows. 
Chad spoke once more as you landed on the couch, “Can we watch the Mario movie?”
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rocksanddeadflowers · 8 months ago
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Thinking about Ivy tinkering together a gift for Lyf post TBI. It's a small trinket, and she tells them to press the button. Holograms fill the space the pair occupy. Above them are stars, and around them are miniature planets. Not just any, of course. It's all a map of what Yggdrasil once was, the planets all replicas of the system, and the stars above are seen through an atmosphere- the constellations all familiar as it's what you'd seen on a clear night in Midgard.
Everything is adjustable- you can display just planets or stars, the stars can follow whatever time of year you choose, and change as a year progresses, just like it would on the planet. You can interact with the planets, enlarge or shrink them, hold them close. Ivy had kept a stern record of the system in this fashion, so it's all accurate.
She shows them all the details and settings, and they have to choke back tears just to thank her and wrap her in a bone crushing hug, the most emotionally open she's ever seen them. Now if you ever check on Lyf actually sleeping in a bed, you'll find those constellations projected on the ceiling. They've sleep sounder ever since then.
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shyvioletcat · 6 months ago
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I love this au, you love this au. Let's just get to it.
~ Masterlist ~
~~~~~
Today Aelin was only booked in for a half day at the aquarium. It was off-peak, middle of the school term and the usual slow Wednesday crowd. There weren’t many visitors to the aquarium besides the odd school group and to keep it fair the mermaid shifts were split. Aelin had the morning and Lysandra would do the afternoon. 
There was about an hour between performances and Aelin had just finished shedding her tail along with all her other mermaid accessories. She was only dressed in her swimmers and was on her way to the showers when Lysandra walked into the dressing room. 
“Hello, hello,” she greeted brightly. 
“Hey,” Aelin replied, pulling out her clothes to make sure she had everything she needed. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d accidentally left her underwear on the bed.
“Isn’t that the sweatshirt Mr Hot ‘n Loaded lent you?” Lysandra said, sighting the jumper that had just been unloaded from the bag and flicking the cuff.
”Maybe.” It was all Aelin was willing to admit, and quickly stuffed it out of sight, diverting the conversation away from it. “Speaking of, I could have died.”
Despite the seriousness of the words, Lysandra laughed. “You were not dying. We’ve been over this. And you had a far better saviour than me, let it go.”
“Not the point,” Aelin deflected, “and you know I know how to hold a grudge.”
“You’re just jealous,” Lysandra said with a casual shrug and a self satisfied smile. 
Aelin huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m very proud of you for taking the opportunity of casual sex in a bathroom.”
“It was a bedroom, actually,” Lysandra corrected. “Apparently there’s at least three guest rooms.”
“Semantics. What I’m saying is that there is a time and a place, and that was neither.”
Lysandra dropped her bag onto the chair in front of the vanity mirror. “The way I see it, thanks to my little escapade with that very handsome blond you were able to get your own dose of flirting in, you just aren’t game enough to do anything about it.”
Right, because when Rowan had undressed Aelin in that pool room, desperately trying not to look, and really except for one teasing line she had missed her opportunity. She had been too cold and frazzled to take advantage of the situation. Aelin could feel herself blushing even though she hadn’t been shy in the moment. Maybe it had been because of the onset of hypothermia or maybe it was because she had found Rowan’s own embarrassment so entertaining, either way the pink in her cheeks was damning right now.
”I have no idea what you're talking about,” Aelin tried to bluff, even though on the drive home while yelling I could have died every five minutes, she had gone into heavy detail about what had occurred. Right down to how soft Rowan’s fingers had felt as they brushed over her skin. 
“Yeah, huh. You still have his number, right? Call him, text him,” Lysandra pulled her tail from the wardrobe. “Do something about it.”
For good measure Lysandra flicked the centre of Aelin’s forehead, like that would banish the remains of the hesitancy swirling around in her brain. Swatting the hand away and hissing, Aelin scowled after her friend disappeared into one of the cubicles to start getting ready. 
What Aelin couldn’t figure out was why she was hesitating. It was clear there was mutual attraction ignoring the lack of tact Rowan seemed to have when interacting with her. She had busted him checking her out more than once. And it seemed like he was a decent guy when he wasn’t accidentally propositioning her for shifty sounding private events.
On the other hand, there was a vibe that Aelin had got from the woman she assumed was Ivy’s mother. She had never addressed Aelin directly but there was a definite feeling that she wasn’t happy with a mermaid being in attendance. Rowan had been very clear that he was divorced, so that came with the implications that his ex-wife wasn’t entirely in his life. There was obviously some kind of coparenting situation going on but Aelin didn’t know much more than that. There was so much falling into the unknown category, and there was only one way to fix that and find out. 
Aelin grabbed her bag and left the dressing room. She didn’t need Lysandra hovering and goading her into action. When she got to her car Aelin dug out her phone from where she’d thrown it into her bag and scrolled to the message thread with Rowan. She just needed some kind of opening, something casual to test the waters. The cuff of the borrowed jumper slid over her hand, almost swallowing the phone. Since the party it had lived in her car and she had worn it more than once. It was insanely comfortable and had that nice male kind of smell about it. And it was her ticket. 
Going off their previous conversations, Rowan didn’t seem like much of a texter, so Aelin took the plunge and hit the call button instead. It rang for longer than she expected, and then she realised he was most likely at work, working a real job with real hours. Aelin blushed again and was about to hang up when it connected.
”Rowan Whitethorn speaking,” his tone professional.
”Hi, this is Aelin Galathynius, mermaid extraordinaire,” Aelin said, hoping her quickly summoned bravado covered her nerves. 
“Aelin, hi,” his tone immediately dropped into something more casual. “What can I do for you? Did the money not go through?”
”No, no that’s all fine,” Aelin replied. “You were more than generous.”
”You went above and beyond. Ivy had the time of her life.” She could swear there was a smile in his voice.
”I’m glad.”
Aelin was leaning on the car, fiddling with the too long sleeve on her free hand. She was grinning as well, pleased with herself for doing such a good job.
“I don’t mean to be rude or rush you, but I’m in between meetings,” Rowan said, breaking into her thoughts.
”Oh, yes!” Aelin blurted. “I wanted to return your jumper and maybe say thank you for helping me not freeze to death after I was left for dead by my friend.”
Rowan chuckled and Aelin ignored how it skittered over her skin. 
“What did you have in mind?” He asked.
Aelin’s confidence had returned and she went for it. ”Dinner, Saturday,”
“Just give me one second,” Rowan said and there was some clicking in the background. “I don’t have Ivy, this weekend. She’ll be sad to miss you.”
And he’d gone and missed the point by a mile. “I meant just you and me, Rowan. Like a date.”
There was a heavy beat of silence, then Rowan laughed again, this one astounding significantly more self deprecating. “You should see how red my face is right now.”
”I’m sure I can imagine.” Aelin had already had the privilege of seeing it before and could picture it perfectly. 
“That sounds wonderful, Aelin. We’ll text and work out a time?” 
”Sounds great,” Aelin said, nodding even though Rowan couldn’t see.
“Bye, then.”
”See ya, Rowan,” Aelin replied and hung up the phone. 
For a moment she stood there, smiling, proud of herself for getting a date so smoothly. The whole misunderstanding of Ivy being there would be forgotten and never spoken of again. This was a triumph and Aelin was ready to celebrate, which would start with some polite bragging. 
>> I got that date you were bugging me about. Now you have to help me figure out what to wear.
When Lysandra sent back an emoji of a smiling devil Aelin knew they were about to cause some havoc and Rowan would be their target. 
~~~~~
I already have Aelin's outfit planned and she'd gonna wreck him
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pbandjz · 3 months ago
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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 • 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: pdh!gene x fem!reader
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst/comfort, fluff, romantic/suggestive tension.
𝐜𝐰: slightly suggestive (its GENE.) but majority sfw. 16+ !
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 2nd year at phoenix drop high, youre a sophmore. You run into ivy causing a mess and getting on her SUPER bad side. keeping ivys bullying to yourself from your friends, you get into a situation with the shadow knights.
DISCLAIMER
ive never writen a fanfic before so if this is cringe or too many unnecessary details and horrible spelling mistakes i am so sorry...pls give me a chance..(pls give me feedback on how to improve my writing. pls be nice.)
CHAPTER 2.
As you park in front of the girl's house, you pull out your phone to send her a text.
_______________
Aphmau ^^
(xxx)-xxx-xxxx
You: alright !! :) I'll pick you up in the morning! Goodnight!!1
Aphmau: Okeyyy! :3 Goodnightt!
Read 10:23
-monday-
You: hey i'm hereee
Delivered 7:20
_______________
You stare at your phone as you wait for her to respond. Dead panning at the front entrance after 5 minutes. Looking back at your phone and sighing, you unbuckle yourself and open the door to your car. You walk up to the front door of Aphmau's house and knock on the door. To your surprise you can hear shuffling from the inside and a yell from what sounds like an older woman.
The older woman swings the door open and smiles brightly at you. You’ve met her before but briefly. “Hi mija! Are you here to take my baby to school?” She holds her hand together waiting for your response. “Yes ma’am! I'm here for Aphmau” you finally respond with a nervous smile. She whips around and walks towards the stairs before turning to you for a moment. “Come in mija!” she says while turning back to the stairs and yelling up the stairs. You close the door behind you and wait for the black haired girl at the entrance. You wait about two minutes before watching the short girl wave at you from up the stairs. You smile at her and wave back as she rushes down the stairs. “Sorry for the wait” she exclaims. She runs up to you and throws her bag onto the floor and gets on the floor to shove her feet into her shoes. Picking up her stuff, you look at her holding the door open for them to leave. She yells her goodbyes to her mom and shuts the door and locks it. She turns to you and smiles tiredly. You smile back and head towards your car. You get into the car together and start playing music.
_______
at school
You look down at your phone as you finish climbing the stairs up to the front entrance of the school. You both give each other a side eye remembering that they have the doors locked for the first day. You and Aphmau both agree after staring at the doors that you would find the others before the bell rings. Looking around you make eye contact with kawaii chans sparkling orange eyes. You giggle to yourself about how happy she is to see you and Aphmau. You guys make your way over to Kawaii chan who is standing with Kaitlyn and nicole.
You don't seem to notice someone out of the corner of your eye while checking your phone for the time causing you to crash into one another. You fall to your knees in slight pain, looking up covering your sore nose to see Aphmau's terrified face and then slowly looking to see who you had the unfortunate fate of bumping into on the first day. You lay your eyes on an edgy looking teenage boy. His ashy blue eyes slightly covered by messy black hair stare down at you with disdain. You look back at aphmau and she looks down back to you while reaching her hand out for you. Picking yourself up with the help of your friend you look back to where the black haired buy was a moment ago. He’s gone. You look around and see he’s only a few steps away so you watch him walk away into the corner join a few other edgy looking kids. You roll your eyes and look back at aphmau who is nervously smiling at you. “Who was that..?” you finally break the silence. She’s startled by your question. Although, now you were good friends, last year you weren't too close. So you don't have any knowledge of the boy and Aphmau's history. “...is he an ex?” You ask, making aphmau's jaw drop and deadpan to the group of friends that were waiting for you. You turn to look at them and to your surprise they looked shocked. Kaitlyn looks almost pissed and disgusted and Nicole's mouth is slightly open in awe. Kawaii chan on the other hand…you can tell something stirring up in her little meif'wa mind. She has the fattest smile on her face that makes you cringe and hide behind Aphmau as you collectively walked towards the group.
As you near them, passing the fountain, you can feel the stares of other students. They're not necessarily BAD stares but it was awkward. “Are you ok?” Kaitlyn asks, turning her head and staring menacingly at the boy that didn't seem too apologetic for knocking you down. You glance over to the group and the heat rushes to your face when you catch him staring and you. He smirks before looking away and continuing his conversation. “y-yeah..I’m fine,,why?”. You face the 4 friends in confusion. The four of them look at you with concern or nervous smiles. Nicole leans in and cups your ear and whispers, “Well, last year Aphmau had a few problems with that group. They’re called the Shadow Knights. They’re just a group of delinquents. They just skip and tag the place up while no one watches. They haven’t done anything too bad after what happened last year with them getting caught skipping in the back of the school. But they still seem to like picking on some students. It's best not to associate with them in any way for the better of your safety.” she pulls away and smiles. You look to aphmau with a worried face. “So his name is Gene?” You ask. “Yeah. The one you bumped into is gene, the white haired girl is sasha and the brunette is Zenix.” Kaitlyn says with a hint of hate in her voice.
As you turn to speak to Aphmau the bell rings and all the students rush into the building after the doors open. Youre about to walk into the crowd when KC grabs you and pulls you back into the group. “Kawaiichan thinks its best to be the last to get into the building so we dont get lost..” You shrug and nod in agreement. To your suprise, when most of the students made it into the building you see Gene and his friends start to sneak away. Kaitlyn being petty and nosy, calls over Teony. She’s been holding the door the entire time, you couldnt see her behind the swarm of students. Nonetheless she makes her way to you and the other girls before glancing at the group of delinquents trying to make their escape. “Sorry ladies..” she says sweetly before storming towards the students and scolding them and dragging them into the building. You start making your way into the building aswell. Catching another glimpse of an even more angered trio, you cant help but let out a small giggle while passing them, earning a glare from Zenix.
_____
In class
You dont have any classes with any of your friends for your first class so you sit at the seat near the back window looking out into a hall. Your eyes travel across the room before stopping at the now opening classroom door. You watch the black haired boy grumbling to himself as Teony drags him into the class. She waves at you before explaining to the teacher that he had gotten lost. Obviously a lie. Teony was a saint when it came to saving even the bad kids. She leaves after waving you goodbye. TThe teacher looks at the boy with a soft smile. She looks around the room and lay her eyes into you. Smiling, she gestures over to you with her hand. “There. You will sit there for the semester. Maybe sitting next to a top student will help you get your act together." she says gently with a bit of disdain in her voice. He looks into the direction the teacher was pointing with zero emotion on his face. Until he lays eyes on you. He furrows his eyebrows and groans while shuffing his way towards the seat next to you. Placing the bag onto his desk before standing there next to his new seat glaring. You can smell the faint smell of cigarettes poorly covered by cologne, making your nose scrunch in disgust. You give him a weak and fake smile as he sits. Making him smile just as, if not more obviously fake, in response.
_____
After a nerve-wracking class, you stop near the door of the class to look at your schedule. You can smell the cigarettes again. You felt someone shove past you in the alomst empty hall. You look up in confusion and see Gene walking away. You stare at the back of his head. “Asshole.” You mutter under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear over the sound of werewolves playing around in the next hall. He stop in his tracks, turns his head to look back at you with a shit eating grin. You return the smile back as if you said nothing. Walking past him before he can get a word in. You can feel his gaze burn into the back of your skull, making your face flush red in fear of what you just got yourself into.
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