Tumpik
#fanfiction
jstor · 10 hours
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https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt1v2xsp4
Fanfiction and the Author How Fanfic Changes Popular Cultural Texts
Judith May Fathallah
An open access book available to everyone on JSTOR. Fathallah's large-scale study of the sites, reception, and fan rejections of fanfic demonstrate how the genre works to legitimate itself through traditional notions of authorship, even as it deconstructs the author figure and contests traditional discourses of authority.
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ao3screenshots · 5 hours
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slow burn but like the free try out version
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kermitkrqb · 23 hours
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A Glimpse of Us || Xavier Thorpe x reader
A/n: Xavier Thorpe can *%#%* #%^ #%^* *+%# #%. 🤭 I thought I would pop in and feed my Xavier enthusiasts. Be sure to interact with me guys, I love hearing your comments 🫶🏼
What to expect: Gender neutral reader, enemies to lovers vibes but at the same time they have mega crushes on each other , academic rivals!!!, no spoilers here lovelies
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Xavier Thorpe was the absolute bane of your existence. A force to be reckoned with, as much as you hated to admit it. The boy was as irritatingly sarcastic and outspoken as you were. You loved loathed it and had no problem in showcasing it. He, on the other hand, spent every waking opportunity getting a rise out of you, enjoying the way your cheeks flushed in rosy frustration. He claimed it was his “most favourite colour” to which you would of course scowl. The most frustrating part of it all was that the two of you shared the exact same schedule. It was as if the two of you were destined… to loathe each other of course. You refused to have it any other way, which is what you kept reminding yourself. You huffed trying to calm yourself as you walked down the hall to botanical sciences after a particularly humiliating instance with Xavier during fencing. He had you pinned down on the ground, your chest heaving as the tip of his blade hovered above you claiming the final point of the match.
You recalled his dastardly green eyes twinkling with amusement as you laid beneath him flushed with embarrassment. You scoffed at the memory and internally berated yourself as you made your way to class not noticing how the lanky brunette caught up to you. His long legs striding quicker than usual just to walk next to you. A cocky grin stretched out across his face, “Good game, huh?” No response, you were adamant in ignoring him. He leaned in, his breath tickling your ear, “I especially liked the part where you were sprawled out under me.” You shot your head up, a twinge of pink dusting your face, as your fiery eyes bore into his, “Oh yeah? Glad I made your dreams come true. Must be tiring having to draw me like that all the time without seeing the real thing.” Xavier gasped slightly, he had been caught. Although he would never admit it, he was impressed with your response but also scolded himself for being so obvious in drawing you. About to retort, his words died in his mouth as you both arrived at Thornhill’s class and you rushed to your seat.
The two of you were assigned seats on opposite sides of the room per Thornhill’s request to “maintain the order of peace”. Both of you reluctantly obliged wanting everything nothing to do with each other. Putting your books on your desk, you watched as the long haired boy put his hands up in surrender when Ms Thornhill gave him a warning glance before he could spark anything between the two of you. Xavier of course caught your gaze, giving you a wink to which you responded with a sarcastic smile. Class had soon started as the two of you settled down. The botany professor hoped for at least one peaceful lesson, but her hopes were soon destroyed the moment she quizzed the class, “Can anyone tell me the name of this flower?” You smirked to yourself, this was just too easy. Your hand shot up, eager to grab any participation points you could get. The brunette glanced at you from his seat at the front, upon seeing your raised hand, he followed putting up his own.
The class was quiet not wanting to interfere with the growing tension. Whilst being the only two people with raised hands, Ms Thornhill ignored this not wanting to further fuel your rivalry, “Anyone?” Your fellow classmates look to each other in amusement as Thornhill sighed. She notions for you to state the answer seeing as you were the first to raise your hand. You grin, having seemingly beat the artist in the front row, “Ms, It’s the-” A cheeky smile is on Xavier’s face as he interrupts you, “the Black Dahlia.” Thornhill sighs and prepares for the disruption ahead of her. You breath in deeply whilst looking ahead, “It’s botanical name being Black Narcissus.” She gives you an approving look, “Very well done, Y/n.” You glance over to Xavier, only to see that he was already looking at you. His cheeky smile only widens further when the two of you make eye contact. He decides to tease you mouthing, ‘Pay attention.’ You’re about to reply when the botany professor interrupts your little interaction, “L/n and Thorpe, if you would stop staring each other and listen that would be greatly appreciated.”
The class laughs as the two of you pull yourselves together, Xavier clearing his throat in embarrassment at Thornhill’s implications. Both of you are now too embarrassed to look at each other in fear of being called out like that again. Thornhill looks pleased with herself as the rest of the lesson continues on without disruption from the two of you. At least it was a somewhat peaceful lesson. Botanical sciences soon finishes, and seeing as it was your last class for the day, you made your way back to your dorm for a nap after that exhausting day. Unbeknownst to you, in his respective dorm, Xavier was about to do the same. Taking a cold shower, the tall boy’s mind ran free. Every time he closed his eyes, you were there. Your face tinted pink as he got a rise out of you, the smirk plastered on your face as you competed against him, and finally, the way your chest heaved as you were sprawled out under him.
Xavier groaned splashing his face with more cold water. He just couldn’t stop thinking about you. Drying himself off with his towel, he quickly got dressed in comfortable clothes. His hair still slightly damp as he laid in bed staring at the ceiling. He didn’t want to doze off yet. The artist leaned over and felt around on the floor for one of his sketchbooks, his slender fingers grabbing the cover as he finally found it. It didn’t take much flipping for him to find a sketch of you. After all, you were his muse. He would never admit it out loud, although, after today’s interaction he knew you had caught on. He smiled fondly at one of his first sketches of you. On the page your fiery eyes gazed up at him as your face was deeply flushed pink. He couldn’t recall what he said to get that reaction out of you, and he didn’t really care. As long as he still got that beautiful tint on your face. He wasn’t lying when he said it was his most favourite colour.
Without realising it, he started to doze off at the thought of you. A soft smile plastered on his face as he began to nap. Xavier hadn’t dreamed of any visions for a while although that would quickly change. His eyes fluttered open, confusion etched on his face as the daylight peaked through his dorm window. An arm was wrapped across his bare chest, his breath hitched as he tilted his head to the side. He could just make out your face under the covers. You were snuggled into his side with a soft expression he’d rarely seen before. Catching his eyes you grinned, “Finally you’re awake sleepyhead. I thought I was gonna be trapped under you for eternity.” The vision shifted and the Thorpe boy was now watching himself in third person. Xavier smirked in return, “You’d like that a little too much.” The two of you then shared a sweet kiss, Xavier’s chin now resting on the top of your head. He reminded you, “Remember to be ready by 8:00pm for our dinner.” You smiled looking up at him through your lashes, “How could I forget? Our second anniversary.”
Xavier shot out of bed sitting up. Like all of his visions that he would have in his sleep, it was extremely vivid and clear. His hand ran through his long hair, “Our second anniversary.” He whispered. His vision confirmed it all, even if the tall boy was still in partial denial in regards to your feelings. Obvious to everyone except you, he liked you of course. He just never knew if his feelings would ever make their way past playful bickering and into something more. Xavier wasn’t stupid, the vision obviously confirmed your feelings towards him too. Even before the vision he could tell, especially in the way you brightened up in class when you saw him, the small smile you would try to hide after he would tease you, and if your blush wasn’t a dead giveaway- he wouldn’t know what he’d do. He just didn’t want to be wrong and ruin everything between the two of you. A plan hatched in the mischievous boys mind, he knew you would be extremely stubborn if he outright told you about his vision but, he knew just how to make you crack.
A/n: Part 2 is already written, let me know if you guys want me to release it.
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icallhimjoey · 10 hours
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Hand in marriage right now- THAT WAS AMAZING! Honestly I loved it so much, making me go giggle and kicking my feet ugh 😭, do you think there will be a possibility that there will be a part 2?
Love your works so much <3
ok so i obviously left a lot of room there for more, SO FINE here's another part (and if you want more, you're gonna have to let me know because i think i might be able to pull 5 parts out of this if i tried really hard) enjoy! (also pls know that i still feel weird writing wesley) (i have only ever seen pics of him) (thats all) Wordcount: 2.1K
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Inevitable Sparks
part one - part two
Oh, how the tables had turned. Where before Wesley was always made to shut up about you, now it was Wesley who had to tell Joe that not everything he'd tell him involved or surrounded you.
"I'm actually not feeling great, I think the sushi I had last night was-" "Did you go for sushi with her?" Joe interrupted. "No, I went with my dad," Wesley narrowed his eyes at Joe. "Oh... yea, of course. Do you happen to know- like, does she like sushi?"
Wesley rolled his eyes at his friend who apparently, when it came to you, operated like he was in primary school still.
From a very specific angle, it was cute. From all the other ways to look at it, it was mostly annoying and frankly a little pathetic, Wesley thought. You and Joe had only met the one time at your flat, and you'd talked for a little while before you'd mingled with your other friends and had left Joe to join Wesley on the balcony from where he could just stare at you through the window. You had seen him stare, you'd definitely noticed. But you'd also done your very best to pretend you hadn't been aware of it at all. And Wesley had, to his dismay, seen all of it from up close and concluded that you were both terrible at this.
"I don't know, man. Ask her yourself." Wesley said, hoping to not become the middle man for the two of you, but entirely aware that, he probably already was.
"I would, if you gave me her number..." Joe tried, eyebrows high up on his face, giving his friend questioning eyes.
Wesley laughed, sat up and tried to imitate his friend's face as best he could. "Can you pass her this note to see if she like likes me?"
It was a dig at Joe, but it made him laugh heartly anyway.
"She's taking me to an exhibition tomorrow," Wesley then revealed. "You could book yourself a ticket and tag along, if you want," he shrugged, knowing you wouldn't mind it.
"No, come on," Joe waved a hand at Wesley. "I wouldn't want to intrud- what time you guys heading over?" Joe cut in on himself as he'd whipped is phone out to check his schedule, making Wesley shake his head at him.
Meeting Wesley outside Kensington High Street station, he had let you know he was bringing a surprise, and you'd expected maybe a crunchie bar, or a hot cup of coffee, but you choked on your own spit when you saw him emerge from the building with Joe by his side.
"Joe loves the Design Museum," Wesley said when in your earshot, obviously sarcastic, but all three of you were smiling. You were all entirely aware of the situation at hand, but none of you called a spade a spade and just let the truth float in the air in between you.
"Yea? Are you into ASMR?" you asked, challenging Joe slightly.
Joe blinked his eyes and searched for the right words, the noises coming from his mouth a stumbling mess of various vowels. Obviously, he had no idea what he was in for. "We'll see, won't we?" Joe eventually replied, and you saw Wesley behind him with a furrowed brow and one corner of his mouth pulled up, shaking his head, and it made you giggle.
And Wesley had been right. Joe hated every second of the Weird Sensation Feels Good exhibition; an immersive experience where you got to both experience and create ASMR-type visuals and audios. You lived for this kind of stuff, and had paid for Wesley's ticket after being unable to talk him into tagging along without you getting it for him.
When you'd entered, you'd distanced yourself a little from the boys and wandered from padded space to padded space, soaking up information, learning about how brains worked, what triggers there were and eventually sitting down at a table that held microphones, headphones and an array of brushes to use.
When you sat down and placed the clunky headphones over your ears, you saw Wesley and Joe wander in. Wesley immediately gravitated towards an installation of hanging bags holding different substances to squish and grab, all of them meant to be satisfying. Joe, on the other hand, saw the chair opposite you was empty, and made his way over to sit down.
"Hi," you said, smiling, unaware of the volume of your voice since you weren't able to hear yourself.
Joe just smiled and reached for the other pair of headphones to put on. In front of you were two microphones, and you used a finger to tap at one. You heard nothing, but saw Joe flinch at the sound and it made you chuckle softly. As playful payback, Joe did the same to the other, tapping it harder than you did, making you laugh louder as the noise of it consumed everything.
You were the first to take a brush, and you swiped it over your own microphone first before moving it to brush at his. Joe ducked his head into his shoulders at the sound and frowned deeply; his whole body cringed and he was quick to push your hand away from his mic.
"Is that meant to relax me?" Joe's angered confusion made you laugh. "That's infuriating," he concluded, but took hold of a brush himself, giving it another try at his own microphone, looking at it with disgust painting his features. "Hate that. Hate it, hate it." Joe had to take the headphones off.
You were well aware you were in a museum that was meant to solely relax people, but there were giggles stuck in your throat that you couldn't keep in. Then Joe moved to your microphone, and you were immediately triggered. The noise of the bristles against the mic sent tingles from your scalp, all the way down your spine, and for some reason, they ended at the backs of your thighs. It was relaxing, but it was awkward, because this was Joe's doing and he was looking at you, intrigued at the effect it had.
"Is that working?" you could see the smile tugging at his cheeks, and you gave an embarrassed nod. "Is it, actually?" Joe's open-mouthed smile grew.
It was far too intimate a moment for the two of you to be having, Joe holding power over bodily responses you had like that in a public setting with Wesley in the room? Not okay. You looked over at Wesley who was then stood at a different headphone station and found him practically drooling as he was listening to something with his eyes closed.
"I think Wesley's too into this," you said as you removed your headphones and pointed, making Joe turn in his seat and suppress a laugh.
"That's... that's not right. Entirely inappropriate. Wesley, mate! Get a room, just for yourself,"
You noticed how every single thing Joe said made you blush and giggle, and you silently scolded yourself for it. Get yourself together, woman. You're not 12 and not everything Joe says is funny. Be an adult. A grown up. Behave.
You were lucky, because Joe hadn't even noticed in the slightest that your ears were glowing. Oh, he'd noticed the giggles, but he had also been out to get them from you, so it didn't feel overdone. He also didn't have time to think about what you were thinking, because every time he got close enough to talk to you, his mind ran at a million miles per hour to figure out how to work your phone number into the conversation. What subtle comment or question could fall from his lips that would have you reach over for his phone to put your number in? Add to that the fact that this museum held a lot of headphone-wearing and not a lot of room chitchat. So instead, he settled for enjoying the view of you, for now.
A little while later, you had outstretched yourself on a grey fuzzy art piece that was meant to look like the inside of a brain next to Wesley, both in headphones, looking at a screen. You were relaxed. This exhibition was definitely living up to the name of it; it was all weird sensations, and it all felt good. From across the room, Joe looked at the two of you, and he stared long enough for Wesley to eventually feel his friend's eyes on him.
Wesley furrowed his brow at Joe when they made eye contact. He gave his chin a tiny nod upwards, asking Joe what he wanted from him.
Joe copied his friend's frown, and nodded his head to the side, meaning for Wesley to move away from you, to make space for Joe.
Wesley looked at you for a second, completely enthralled by what you were experiencing, and decided that Joe wasn't allowed to disturb you. You hadn't taken Wesley to this exhibition just so Joe could flirt with you, and in that moment, he felt protective over you the way he'd feel protective over a younger sister. Wesley looked back at Joe and gave his head a tiny shake. It made Joe drop his head and groan in defeat.
Maybe you could go for a coffee after. Or if he was lucky, a pint or two. Joe could maybe get your phone number then. Except he didn't, because the more he thought about it, the more he let his nerves grow until they formed a giant mountain Joe couldn't compete against. Even when two people got up in a packed tube and you and Joe were quick to snag the seats, Joe still didn't muster up enough courage to casually ask for it. And so when you had to part ways because you had to change for another line to make your way home, it was a quick simple 'see you later' for Joe, and the quickest of quick hugs for Wesley before you stepped off.
Wesley plopped down next to Joe and slapped him hard on the knee.
"Great job mate, glad you got her number," Wesley joked as Joe looked out the window behind him, giving you a small wave as the tube took off and he got a last glimpse of you walking down the platform.
"Just- just give it to me," Joe pleaded as he turned back to his friend, making Wesley laugh loudly. "Absolutely not. I've introduced the two of you. I've done my part."
However, what Wesley hadn't anticipated, is that you also needed Wesley's help. The second you had service on your phone, you couldn't help but text him.
"saw you take a pic of us, i need it", quickly followed by, "for scientific purposes obvs".
The second Wesley had service on his phone, he read your message but waited until he was away from Joe to reply. Wesley had, in fact, snuck a picture of you sat together on the tube. It was slightly blurry, and you'd both been looking up to check the tube map across from you - unnecessarily so, you both knew where you were going and where you needed to get off.
When Wesley sent the pic, you followed it up with, "give me his number", and Wesley let out the loudest most annoyed sigh he could pull from his lungs.
You were both useless.
He took a minute to think it over. He'd been so adamant he wasn't going to give Joe your number that it almost felt wrong to just hand you his. At the same time, he'd had enough of Joe's pestering and didn't need your harassment added to that. So he thought of something to put all three of you out of misery.
You were zooming in on the blurry photo of you and Joe on the tube, thinking what a terrible photographer Wesley was, but how good the two of you looked together, when suddenly you got a notification. You'd been added to a group chat called "two halfwits make a whole" and, curiously, the image of it was the one you'd just been staring at.
"What the..."
You opened the group chat and were met with an empty chat screen, Wesley's name and an unknown number at the top.
Joe.
Then a message from Wesley popped up.
"Here you go, idiots"
Followed swiftly by the notice, "Wesley left".
-----
The Taglisted: 
@ghostinthebackofyourhead @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @dirtyeddietini @mybffjoe @harrys-tittie @chaoticgood-munson @harringtonfan4 @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @xeddiesbattattsx @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland - add yourself
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billy-stu-wh0re3 · 4 hours
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CONFESS.
masterlist.
pairing: xavier t. x reader
warnings: fingering
note: this is so incredibly bad but i love it
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xavier thorpe. you wouldn't say you were friends but you were definitely not strangers. he made you feel things you'd never felt before from a single look, you could only imagine how you'd feel if he were to actually do something. you'd always stare at him during class while he drew in his sketchbooks, fascinated by him and his drawings. you loved the way his hands flexed as he drew and how his face looked when his only concern was on his drawings.
you'd been complaining to ajax about how you couldn't write in peace because of your roommates and he had asked xavier if you could use his shed, he said yes. he was going to share his most precious part of him with you, you had almost passed out right then and there.
so that's where you were. trying to finish the chapter of your story you were currently working on, but your mind was somewhere else. all you could think about was how xavier's hands would feel on your body, telling you things you wanted to hear. you sigh in frustration and say,, fuck it,, in your mind.
you close your computer, turn your chair, and slowly drag your hand under your skirt. you move your panties to the side and rub up and down your wet folds moaning to the feeling. you imagine it's xavier doing this to you and moan his name,"mm xavier just like that"
"just like what?" he says walking into his shed with a smirk and surprising the fuck out of you. you quickly remove your hand and wipe it on your skirt, staring at xavier wide eyed and frozen.
"oh come y/n don't get too quiet now, what were you just doing?" he asks even though he knew exactly what you were doing.
"nothing xavier, but i'm gonna go now so you can paint in peace." you say and start grabbing your computer to put back in your backpack but xavier walks over and grabs your wrist before you can.
"i don't think so y/n, come on show me what you were doing." he says but doesn't remove his hand from holding yours.
,,god this is so embarrassing,, you thought but still bring your hand back down to your cunt, along with xavier's.
"this is what you were doing? touching yourself?"
you nod with embarrassment written all over your face. he smirks and moves his hand, replacing yours.
"i'll help you." he whispers in your ear and inserts two of his fingers into your wet entrance, slowing moving them back and forth.
you moan, "oh god xavier", and throw your head back.
"seems like you got a little crush y/n, you're so wet for me." he adds another finger and goes faster.
"mm no i do.." you whine, "don't." you say before letting out another moan from the feeling of his fingers continually sliding in and out of your cunt.
"so you weren't imagining it was me who was fingering you?" he asks before quickening his actions.
"no, i-it" you loose your words as the pleasure over powers your body, "-slipped out." you say before letting out yet another moan. " 'my god, feels so good" you whine.
"mm we'll see about that." he says and you feel your climax approaching.
"faster, god please go faster." you whine and xavier listens. you feel the knot in your stomach form, letting out hundreds of moans and whimpers,, so close,,
then nothing. xavier pulls his fingers out. you whine, "xavierrr"
"hm?" he hums and stays staring at you.
"why'd you stop."
"oh right that" he sucks in a breath and looks away from you, "well if you don't like me then there's no reason for me to finish you off. you can do it yourself."
you sigh, "xavier please."
"sorry, no can do." he looks back at you and shrugs.
you whine, "fineee. i was imagining it was you. i do like you." you confess while looking away.
xavier grabs your chin to face him, "that's all you had to say." he slips his fingers back in.
you moan at the feeling of being full of his fingers again, you whimper when you feel him start to rub your clit.
"omg xavier, mmm" you you let your head fall back again.
"you look so pretty like this y/n, you don't know how long i've wanted to do this." he confesses and it pushes you over the edge.
you come undone under his touch and feel your legs start to slightly shake. you whimper as he removes his fingers. he brings his hand up to your mouth and you wrap your mouth around his fingers, licking up and down.
he groans, "god you're making it so hard not to fuck you right now”
you remove your mouth, a trail of saliva following, "do it."
so he did.
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marionette-j2x · 11 hours
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"Scarred"
Spoilers!!! from the latest chapter of the fanfic: "Bride of the Monster Duke". @kammieceleek
And also the designs for Willow's campaign attire:
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afreakingdork · 22 hours
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Crush Too Much - Part 9
RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader
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Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles
Synopsis:  So you met a customer three times at work and that made a pretty big impression on you? That’s nothing to necessarily get worked up over, but when you’re all prepared to ask for his number the next time you see him and his brother gets involved instead, you might be in for something more than you bargained for.
FIRST ���� PREVIOUS
Three days; to say the last three days had been hard would have been an understatement. Donnie hadn’t messaged you. There was no way you were going to message him. After the initial explosion of emotions after you’d entered your apartment that night, you’d been left a numb husk. There were many messages from your friends asking how the date had gone, but you couldn’t reply to any of them. You barely got out of bed and you did your shifts with quiet dignity at work. It was Thursday and you’d swapped with your coworker for a morning shift. Delivering the Hamato family order was out of the question.
After a shower, you prepared for another blanket cocooning. Having gone over the details a dozen times you knew at least one thing: it wasn’t your fault. Whatever had happened that night, you had the utmost confidence that he had been about to kiss you. No matter how caught up in your feelings you were, you were sure of that memory. You didn’t know why he’d initiated the contact or why he shirked it so violently, but those were questions for him to answer. He needed to come out with whatever had happened. You weren’t going to lead him. Twisting up into a cotton pupa, you flopped down on your bed. Your discarded phone bounced from the action and landed, screen lit, right next to your face. You were prepared to ignore any new messages when you noticed that one notification was in all caps. Wriggling an arm free you opened your device.
You were greeted with three short, all capitalized messages from Leo.
‘CELEBRATION’
‘TONIGHT’
‘NO EXCUSES’
You squinted, still suffering from emotional exhaustion. You had more than a good enough excuse. You were about to type something like that out when an address appeared as the next message. You opened it and stared numbly at the Upper East Side gallery in the preview. It was totally out of the question. You rolled onto your back and brought the phone up to turn down the offer when another message came.
‘I KNOW YOU DON’T HAVE WORK. GET DRESSED. BE THERE. 8PM’
You didn’t need since you were alone, but a look of disgust painted your features. If his first message hadn’t been about celebrating, you would have almost thought he was trying to cheer you up. Your brow came down in confusion as that line of thinking brought up several questions. Did he know about the date? You hadn’t talked to him since your last gallery romp. Did he know about how badly the date went? With Donnie, he somehow shared everything and nothing with his brothers at any given moment. How did he know your work schedule? The last question was one you didn’t actually care to find an answer to. Donnie had a loose relationship with private information at best and Leo certainly had the morals for a similar stunt.
You tossed your phone aside and shed your cocoon. There was no way to get any answers without going. There was even a chance you were being self-centered about the whole thing and it had nothing to do with you. Plus, you weren’t in the mood to battle Leo’s pestering if you tried to duck out. Weighing the pros and cons, you swung your feet off the side of the bed. Instead of sulking in unknowns, you decided that you’d done enough wallowing. You weren’t going to keep holing up while Donnie figured out whatever it was he was brooding over. Hopping to your feet, you headed towards your closet.
-
Leave it to Leo to be late to an event he demanded your precise attendance for. You shuffled in your nice shoes that had long since been worn in from these events. Teetering on underdressed, you looked up and down the line you were smack dab in the middle of.  You spied a bouncer at the door accepting invitations. Of all the receptions you’d attended so far, none had seemed this elegant. Even the ropes seemed posh. You’d almost thought you were trying to get into a exclusive club if it wasn’t for the white walled glimpses of art you could see through the gallery’s enormous windows. The clock was ticking so you debated texting the blue hero for the hundredth time. The fact that you knew doing so would be in vain held you back. Nerves fringing on the edges of your periphery, a loud voice cut through the idle murmur of those in line.
“Look who it is!” Leo jogged towards you and stopped just short of the rope to play a fake trumpet with his hand. “Might I add you look ravishing!” He was laying it on thick tonight. With a bright grin, he bobbed under the restraints and joined you in line. A few people rumbled with complaints behind you, but he ignored them completely if he noticed at all.
“Nice of you to show.” You responded dryly, though the corner of your lips was upturned. You didn’t have much energy for this, but thankfully he seemed to have enough energy for both of you.
He blew a raspberry and ran a hand down his outfit. “It takes time to look this good. I mean come on!” He turned and threw his hands up at the building. “Do you see where we are tonight?!”
“It’s a nice place.” You nodded, folding your arms.
“Invite only!” Leo bristled at your tepid attitude and slipped a embossed envelope from his jacket. “Oh and this?” He then used said invitation to gesture to his shirt. “Real silk, made with the utmost quality and breathability.” The letter disappeared back into his coat as he struck an audacious pose.
“Really going all out on this celebration thing.” You inspected the quality of his shirt for his sake more than yours.
“I knew it.” He pointed a finger to your nose while his other arm slung over your shoulders. “This sourpuss attitude is because I’ve left you in such suspense!”
“Obviously.” You rolled your eyes up to his snarky smile.
“Please, try to contain yourself!” He reeled his limbs back in before grabbing your shoulders in great plea theatrics.
“How will I live?” You stared at him with even sarcasm. His goofiness was a bit infectious, but part of you was a bit worried at what this reveal entailed.
“We-" He paused, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. “I’m sorry I’m just so emotional!”
“Leo!” You jeered.
“We got the reservation to Per Se!!!” He threw his arms up and you felt a rush of excitement flood your body.
“Wait, what?!” Your hands lifted in surprise and Leo grabbed them.
“Mikey’s going to have the best birthday!” He cheered before jumping up and down. Maybe it was because it indeed had nothing to do with you. Maybe it  was because it felt good to get some good news after sulking for 3 days. Maybe it was because Leo did the most out of any person you knew, but you joined him in his bouncing.
“That’s fantastic!” There was throat clearing behind you as the line started to move.
Leo released you and whipped out the invitation once again. “Right? It’s all thanks to you.” The bouncer was growing closer. “You see now why I demanded your presence?”
“I do.” You shook your head as the two of you gained entry to the gallery.
“That’s why tonight, we’re going all out!” He shouted to all those in attendance who regarded him with scoffs. He swung around and held up a hand as he whispered supposed privy information. “I have it on good authority that they have kobe beef just for starters tonight.”
“I feel like I should have looked more into who was showing…” You balked.
“Who cares!? I don’t even really know why that cow is so expensive, but I’ve heard Mike gush about it like a million times.” Leo popped the lapels of his jacket and the two of you were off. It was like a learned hunt. Moving around the gallery, stuffing your faces, and reciting art lingo to various groups who ate up your nonsense like it gilded. It was a normalcy that you hadn’t known you’d been missing. It was also what you imagined Dr. Friendship would have ordered.
Humming contentedly through a bite of freshly caramelized brie, you look at Leo who was pulling a toothpick out of his mouth. “Thank you, I needed this.”
“We gotta treat ourselves.” He pointed with the tiny sword and shrugged like it was obvious.
“You more so than me.” He had to be joking.  
“You do an actual service that New York is literally known for!” You watched as he flicked the toothpick in a perfect arch that landed it on the tray of a departing caterer.
“Oh yes, on the exact same level as saving the city on a daily basis and world on occasion.” You stared at him evenly, waiting for whatever snide remark he’d come up with.
Instead you were greeted with a soft genuine grin. “Just doing my job.” He nodded with confirmation and whipped two toast bites off a passing tray.
You took yours when he offered and bumped shoulders with him to signify you were proud of his attitude. “What do you think we got here?”
“Yep.” He eyed the bite. “Looks like curdled frosting and sweaty tomatoes.”
“Your cookbook is going to be a smash it.” You both took your bites at the same time.
“Wait, I got this! It’s ricotta!” Leo gasped  and covered his mouth in a mocking fashion.
“Look at you.” You chuckled.
“What can I say? I have a refined palate!” He shrugged smugly and took a leading stride to a nearby painting of yellow figures on a purple backdrop.
You both stared at it until you could sense the tension wafting off your companion. You’d let him sweat it out.
“Soooo….” He’d lasted all of 45 seconds. “Can I ask?”
There it was. You shifted your weight from one leg to the other. “How much do you know?”
He hummed in thought. “Practically nothing. Since our little spat at the overlook, I took a backseat.” He turned to you and put his hands in his pockets. “I know D took the tank to see some meteor thing earlier this week and you were brooding pretty intensely in line when I showed up.”
You tried not to let surprise color your features. Where Donnie excelled in cerebral intellect, Leo outclassed him in emotional. “I wouldn’t say ‘brooding’…”
“Right, how about ‘sad,’ ‘unhappy,’ ‘glum,’ or ‘down’?” You could feel his eyes scanning you for the slightest change. “Kinda the same thing I’d assign to Donnie seeing as how he totally stiffed Mikey when he got home.”
You tried to recall how long you’d been at this opening; an hour was more than enough time to sample everything and run. “Leo…”
“Something happened.” There was a finality to the phrase. He took a step closer. There was no way you’d escape now.
You lowered your eyes to the polished floor. That left you with few options. You could either string out the lies until you got away, tell a half truth, or the whole truth. Lying to Leo was a pastime you’d never quite mastered so that was totally out. He might see through a half truth just as well since it was breeching on lie territory. You sighed. You didn’t necessarily want to air out your and Donnie’s laundry, but it had been always been stifling when it came to the purple hero. You could only let your friends in on who he was so much without blowing his cover. Leo was your last confidant on the matter and while he was arguably the best, he was also Donnie’s brother and a man that had made a pretty staunch stance on not wanting to interfere. That being said, you hadn’t really recovered from the heartache you’d been saddled with.
“We went on a date.” There was silence so you looked up to find Leo all but squealing like an excited school girl. You balked. It was like he’d completely forgotten the note about you being sad.
“Oh my gosh, are you serious!?” He snatched your hands from your sides and twirled the both of you around in several circles.
Stunned and slightly dizzy, you stuttered. “Y-yes?”
“Ok, I know I said I didn’t want to know anything, blah, blah, good brother stuff, but you finally did it!” He let go as a thought struck him. “Wait, it was you who asked, right?”
“Yes…?” That seemed so much longer ago then it was.
“Haaa! And you said you wouldn’t take my advice.” He rubbed his nails against his lapels and checked them. “There’s so much to appreciate here. Let me bask in it.” He closed his eyes and tipped his head back slightly. You stared dumbly as he then snapped back to his previous position. “Alright, basking done. Details. Now. Go.”  
If he had a chair, he would have sat down like it was story time. You shook your head. “Leo, I don’t…”
“Right, right…” He nodded with some form of understanding that you weren’t in on. “How about vague strokes?” He spun around to your other side as if his position would unlock your secrets.
“We watched a meteor shower and had a picnic?” That seemed like a safe amount of information to leak.
“Tres romantique!” He wiggled his eye brows. “All alone!” He took a few backwards strides in front of you and wrapped his arms around himself. “In the…” He paused and looked at you with understanding growing on his features. “Woods! That’s why he took the tank!” Leo snapped, just knowing he got it right. “Wait, that's it!” He adjusted his coat and took on an air of poise. “I’ll guess what happened and you can just tell me if I’m right!”
“How is that different from me just telling you?” You were at a loss.
“You both dressed up?” Leo fired off his first question regardless.
An image of Donnie’s entrance flashed in your mind. You gave a tight nod.
“He drove, that’s obvious…” It wasn’t a guess and Leo took a few steps in a small circle to collect the data he had. “In the woods, a picnic…” He trailed off and scrunched up his nose. “Oh!” He leaned in close with his hands clasped. “Did you feed each other?”
“No!” You scoffed.
“True, that’s advanced lovey dovey nonsense…” He grumbled as he racked his brain. “Pfft duh!” He slammed a palm into his fist. “That’s what Egghead was building: a telescope!”
You wished you could shrink yourself as more memories assaulted you.
Leo caught on to your discomfort and immediately put in a smarmy smile. “Cuddled up looking at the stars?”
You shook your head, but he’d already caught your guilty trail.
“So he takes you on a starry sky magic carpet ride. You’re all snuggly, then what?” He began to circle you like a predator. “There’s the meteor shower thing, which is like stars falling, right?”
“Meteors.” You corrected because it should have been obvious.
“Sure, whatever!” He waved it off and continued his prowl. “Picnics done so you sit on the blanket all cute.”
His summation of the evening was eerily close.
“That’s the kind of magic that makes a moment!” He slowed and leaned to examine your face. “But something went wrong…”
He was so close that you imagined he could see the cartoonish bullets you were sweating. You tried to avoid his gaze, but with his proximity no matter where you looked, there he was. In a single fatal eye turn you caught his stare and watched as realization blossomed in his pupils.
“You kissed!” He looked like a rocket about to take off.
“We did not!” You screeched, anything to stop his train of thought. Anything to stop him from making you relive that moment. For anyone else, they would have thought it was embarrassed denial, but Leo caught the tiniest wince that passed over your features.
“Oh…” All the excitement drained from him. “Oh.”
“Leo, enough of this-”
“What happened after that?” He pressed, but the note of pity in his voice churned your stomach.
“Leo, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Did he just clam up? Pretended nothing happened and rushed you home??” There was an urgency to his voice.
“I don’t-” You choked on your words. Your eyes were getting hot under the threat of tears.
“Idiot.”
“What?” Maybe it was the swirling gloom, but you weren’t sure if he was talking about you or Donnie.
“He’s an idiot.” Leo grabbed your arm and pulled you taut against his body. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. How he looks when he’s got his nose glued to his phone texting you. He poured himself into it, right? Planned every single detail?”
You squirmed, not sure where he was going with his line of questioning or actions. “Yeah, but-”
“If I had someone I looked at like that…” He dipped you and everything felt so very wrong.
“Leonardo!”
You felt his fingers spread out against your lower back.  
“It doesn’t matter how smart he is. Only a complete and total idiot wouldn’t take a chance like that.”
His face was too close, but he had your hands pinned at your sides.
“Let me go!”
You pulled with all your might, but he was iron in comparison.
“I’m doing this because I want you to realize you’re worth more than that. How he treated you? You got the answer you needed, didn’t you? You shou-”
The resounding smack was so loud that every single person in the entire building went silent.
Frozen from where you had struck him, you wrenched yourself free from his body and shoved him. He stumbled several feet backwards before landing unceremoniously on his butt.
“Don’t!” You threw a finger up at him. Your fury was so hot it was stifling an all out rant. “Don’t you EVER talk about him like that again!”
You swallowed the tears scorching your eyes and made a sharp heel turn. Storming out of the building, you didn’t care if he tried to follow. He could gift you the greatest present anyone had ever seen and you wouldn’t give him the time of day. It felt like lava was flooding your cheeks. Your foot falls sounded heavy on the side walk. Infuriatingly in line with his intuitive nature, you made it all the way home without any interference. As you gave in to the anguish, you wished you’d never left the safety of your bed.
-
Donatello held up the bagged parcel to his goggles. He watched as symbols appeared and the system he’d written cataloged the contents. He needed to get back to work. He needed to get back to the lab. Tapping the side of the headset, the world took on its dingy regular color scheme. He blinked slowly adjusting to the lack of digital overlay. He hadn’t wanted to come all the way out to the upper east side at 8pm, but his contact online said it was the only time he could pick up the part. It simply couldn’t be found anywhere else. It wasn’t an excuse to get out of the lab. It was a mere interruption in his current pattern so his brothers wouldn’t ask any more questions than they already were.
His arm went slack and the bag rustled as it took its place at his side. He’d already lingered too long. The fringes of his memories were starting to encroach on his conscious thought, so he shoved them aside to map the quickest way home. He could almost see the route line crop up on the ground. Stacking distractions, he plotted that as his next overlay feature to his goggles. He’d just finished drawing up the mental schematics when Leonardo jogged by, unmistakable in the garish suit he’d been strutting around in all afternoon. Donatello narrowed his eyes at his passing brother. Nardo had been just as coy about his destination as he’d gushed about his wardrobe. Finding out where his brother strut these garments had blackmail merit written all over it. Changing course, Donatello dipped into a crowd of people, hot on Leonardo’s trail.
He followed him across several pedestrian crossings, until galleries started to line the streets. The higher scale of the neighborhood shifted the civilians walking around. It meant that Donatello needed to hang back further in his current attire so as not to stand out. Dropping his goggles down, he activated zoom and got an up-close image fed to him of Leonardo waving excitedly. Adjusting the lens, Donatello felt his body go rigid. He watched as Leonardo pretended to play a trumpet with you looking on. He tightened his grip on the bag. You were both dressed up. Neither of you stuck out from the crowd. Donatello broke his gaze away and slammed the button to lift his goggles. It felt like he couldn’t get his hands to the bridge of his nose fast enough. It didn’t matter how hard he squeezed, the headache was already there. As it had been for the last few days. It was a gnawing reminder of how things had gone so awry. It didn’t, however, explain the supposed tryst that was happening between you and his brother.
Shaking the unwanted feelings away, Donatello placed his goggles once more. He got an eyeful of Leonardo throwing his arm around your shoulders. That was a familiarity he didn’t know you were both at. He could feel his lips twitching, trying to form some sort of unsavory frown. He turned it into a bitter scowl instead. He tried to solve the precedent, but the results came back with a lack of data. Bringing his attention back to you, he found you and Leonardo holding hands and jumping up and down with some sort of excitement. He could feel the tips of his nails digging into his palms.
He searched all his databases for a source. Every mental filing cabinet came up empty. There was, however, a note in a folder he kept fictional scenarios. Sifting through film clips, he found a recurring scenario driven by misunderstanding. It usually involved a lead happening upon a confrontation with their love interest and a rival. The lead would inadvertently see something, draw a conclusion that was wrong, and run away without getting proper data. Swallowing a distaste, Donatello smirked. Prior knowledge of the scenario meant he could easily best some trope.
Bringing his attention back to the line, he found neither you nor Leonardo standing where you had once been. Details of the people in the line popped up which noted that the queue had begun filing into the gallery. Further data was required, so Donatello spun around and scaled a building from the closest alley. Within a minute, he was on top of the target building and satisfied to find it had a glass ceiling too.  Data appeared in his headset, until you and Leonardo pinged as targets. Reaching for his wrist cuff, Donatello logged a tracker so he wouldn’t lose sight of either of you again. He watched as, after a short conversation, the two of you parted and started stalking the event in a sort of learned dance. His goggles began charting every stolen glance, the food acquired, and each painting you met over. Leonardo was especially in his element, gushing to faux critics that seemed to explode with praise at his every word. It made Donatello feel nauseous.
Then, there was you. You seemed more entranced by the game then by his brother, but you were still there. You were moving with Leonardo as if you had done it countless times before. It simply didn’t add up. Though it pained him, he cycled through his memories with you. Leonardo only appeared to come up in passing conversation. Guilt wasn’t an emotion he would have associated with your face at the mention of his brother. That meant you didn’t feel misconduct in seeing Leonardo routinely. It then begged the question as to why you hadn’t mentioned it. Glowering from frustration and lack of evidence, Donatello continued to watch the game. He knew enough about both of you to see that it was some sort of con you were putting on. The free food was obviously the target prize of the escapade. Splitting your shared motives apart, Leonardo was garnering a great amount of satisfaction for every person who fell for his con. On the other hand, you seemed to watch on fondly as Leonardo did so. Swallowing an ever growing tightness in his throat, Donatello added ‘making Leonardo happy’ to your column of motivations.
Just as a rhythm had been established, the dance ended as you and Leonardo approached a purple and gold painting. Taking note of the change in atmosphere, it took all his resolve to not just leave. He make a mental note later about how he now understood why the leads left before they had all their data. He watched as Leonardo made a few comments and you seemed to stiffen up at them. He cursed the fact that he’d never bugged this particular building. He hadn’t had any reason to, but it was frustrating nonetheless.  Whatever scab his brother was picking at, he applied just enough pressure that it wouldn’t come off completely. The blue idiot was supposed to be known for his ability to read emotions, so why was he making you so uncomfortable?
The way Leonardo moved was similar to how he carried himself in an interrogation. If that was the case, then what was he trying to extract? From Donatello’s current position, he could only see your back, but moving risked losing valuable intel. Whatever was happening was of too great importance to interrupt now. Not one to gather evidence based on data, he just had a feeling he couldn't shake. It was as if the key to complete the puzzle was about to be revealed. Leonardo leaned in close to your face with a scrutinizing gaze. If you kept secrets from him, it was reasonable to assume that you kept secrets from Leonardo also.
The banter continued until Leonardo had some kind of revelation. You seemed to yell back. A spark of warmth triggered in his chest. He hoped you would finally put Leonardo in his place, but that wasn’t what was happening. There was some sort of conflict. Zooming in as tight as he could without losing both of your faces, Donatello scowled as he still could not see your expression from this angle.
That's when you and Leonardo pressed together. He stiffened. It was a feeling akin to a stun gun. Every muscle in his body was pulled taut. You didn’t pull away. Then, Leonardo shifted his grip and dipped you. Donatello was on his feet. He watched in enhanced detail as Leonardo’s fingers spread out, caressing the lower part of your spine. He wished it would stop, but Leonardo leaned in. His brothers face was masking yours in a way one could only draw one meaning.
Suddenly, there was an unobscured view of a grey rooftop beneath his feet. Donatello spun around and saw the gallery several buildings away. He hadn’t even realized he’d left. Analyzing his body, he found himself to be hyperventilating. He dropped down and struggled to implement the breathing exercise that Raphael had taught him as a child. He had to match the intervals: in five, out seven. He choked on the oxygen, but his heart rate began to stabilize. Looking at his cuff, he found his fingers shaking. He fisted them to stop the motion. He had an hour and a half of data. He’d outlasted any protagonist by leagues. He hadn’t fled. He’d simply gotten exactly what he needed.
With his vitals in check, he began hopping rooftops on a course back home. An assaulting reel of the last gallery image started to play. He exerted extra force on his muscles to distract his mind. He converted the images into raw code and began to study them. He wasn’t some layman who would draw hypothesis from emotions. He was a man of science. He’d done his field research and now was time to implement the understanding into theory. The original question of ‘why had you kept your rendezvous with Leonardo a secret?’ now seemed much larger. He’d have to pull all the data he had on you. He stilled, taking a few steps to walk off the momentum from leaping across the city. With a deep breath, he reached through his mind’s files.
“Brothers? More than one?”
He had been had written the exchange off as work related.
“He’s something.”
You knew more than you let on. Another failure on his part in assumptions.
When had it started?
His feet began to carry him.
He cycled through the rows of text messages. Nothing seemed out of place.  
He hopped to the next building.
The chance coffee meeting had been suspicious, but none of the dialog stood out.
His legs carried him faster.
Meetings, movies, messages; it all seemed so ordinary.
He soared through the air, gravity pulling the pit forming in his stomach.
The night of the party.
He landed harshly, but rolled into the drop. His eyes widened as he remembered Leonardo’s fixation on you.  That was nine unaccounted months of access his brother had to you as far as he knew.
He got to his feet and start moving again. He had to keep going.
“…one would be remiss not to notice how he was gunning for you.”
What would set Leonardo off?
The two of you seemed close.
He had to move faster.
Leonardo was prone to jealousy. He’d known his brother since birth. He knew the man wanted to be the center of attention. The man had to one-up everyone; had to win.
Faster, his muscles began to protest.
Donatello remembered his mind’s use of the word 'tryst' and 'rendezvous' earlier. A synonym for that was date.
“It’s a date.”
His legs were screaming.
There had to be some other explanation, right?
His mind was flooded with pictures of you. An amount that could never be contained by either his phone’s memory or even the cloud they were backed up on.
So he turned to Leonardo. What else did his brother like? Leonardo loved vanity, indolence, and mischief.
Donatello’s eyes widened.
Leonardo loved pranks.  
With that insight, an answer started to form.
The caper had such a lengthy timeline that it seemed too cruel for his brother or you.
No matter how he tried to rearrange the pieces they just seemed to fit.
He’d seen with his own eyes how the two of you were able to work a crowd. Why not him?
The tension in his right leg was reaching critical levels, but he pushed hard. Jumped higher. The sheer adrenaline was giving him clarity.
“You’re not heartless; you just struggle with articulating your emotions sometimes.”
What was real at this point? How many times would he have the pour over the same data? The lens he looked through made all the difference.
“It’s because I’m dazzled by how good you look.”
He was so close to the lair when his right leg spasmed. Unable to correct, his foot caught a ledge and he hurtled down an alley. A scream clawed its way out of his mouth in sheer surprise. He struck the opposite building in an outward arch that sent him careening back into the one he’d fallen off of. The angle was just so that he landed directly into an open dumpster. He lay there numb. He wheezed, the air had been knocked out of his lungs. Above the stars twinkled mercilessly.
The moment you and his faces came together flashed in his mind.
He slammed his fist into the dumpster so hard the ringing of the metal temporarily blew out his eardrums. It more than dispelled the memory.
Closing his eyes off from the sky, Donatello ground his teeth so hard he could hear the pressure creaking despite the ringing in his ears.
A game.
A joke.
A con.
A caper.
A jape.
A fool.
A/N: Gosh, to those who commented about part 8, correctly guessing that this part would have Leo: you are valid and I love you.
His eyes popped open with malice. He would not be made a fool for a moment longer.
💜 Follow me or the tag #crushtoomuchfic for updates 💜
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kermitkrqb · 20 hours
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A Glimpse of Us pt. 2 || Xavier Thorpe x reader
A/n: Here is part 2!!! You guys are just too adorable for me to deprive you of this any longer!
What to expect: Gender neutral, enemies to lover vibes, hidden feelings, Xavier making the reader hella flustered, confessions!, make out, no spoilers here babes
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The two of you shared fencing class yet again and Xavier’s plan set in motion. Usually, when the coach announced for the class to pair up for practice, the two of you just assumed you’d be up against each other as it was the only class your rivalry was welcomed. However, as you were about to walk up to Xavier he had already started a match with Wednesday who was clad in black as usual. She was beating him terribly, having already scored 2 points before he had the chance to even score 1. In any other situation you would have laughed at his predicament, although you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of hurt as he chose her opposed to you. Sensing your loneliness, Enid made her way over to you. She gave you a bright smile as she asked to partner up, an offer you didn’t refuse. The bubbly girl wasn’t half bad at fencing but that didn’t mean you’d let her win. Dodging her blade you lunged forward striking her square in the chest as you scored the final point. The two of you took your fencing masks off and each fixed your hair before she gave you a nod of respect to which you returned.
You looked over at Xavier who was seemingly immersed in his conversation with Wednesday, this of course didn’t go unnoticed by Enid. She gestured towards the tall boy, “So…what’s going on between you and Xavier? The two of you are always together.” You huffed, “Nothing Enid, nothing.” Although, deep down you wished there was more. She reluctantly dropped the subject raising her brow, “If you say so Y/n.” Xavier continued to ignore you the rest of the fencing session much to your dismay. However, you simply brushed it off as you were sure it was only for this session. As rare as it was, you were wrong. He continued on like this the rest of the day, no sarcastic remarks, no challenging you in class, and no teasing. You were extremely confused by his sudden absence in your life, and you genuinely started to miss him. Watching you from afar, Xavier noticed this. He’d look away just before you’d seek him out, hiding his grin as he’d let you stare at him. It got to the point where he’d go out of his way to find different ways to class, he would always walk with you to class.
You were practically devastated when you noticed this, but nobody could waterboard this information out of you even if they tried. It was the end of the day, and all of your shared classes were finally over. You caught a glimpse of his long hair in the hall way ahead of you, your legs speeding up without realising. Xavier realised you were behind him when he finally looked down and gave you a curt nod before continuing on his way. You frowned at the quick interaction, tilting your head in confusion, “Thorpe!” The tall boy paused, quickly hiding his grin before facing you, “You called?” Your brows furrowed, “That’s all you’re going to say?” He tilted his head looking down at you, “What do you mean?” You scoffed, “What do I mean? What do you mean by ‘What do you mean?’” Xavier shrugged biting back a laugh at your flustered state. You huffed, your ears red from frustration, “You- You’ve been ignoring me. Did I do something wrong? Xavier?” He was so close to giving into you, your doe eyes peering up at him were enough to make him weak in the knees. But, you still hadn’t cracked.
Indifferent, he raised his brows at you, “What’s it to you?” You paused at a sudden loss for words. Xavier turned and began to slowly walk away before you blurted out, “I missed you!” He immediately went still, his back still towards you. You were absolutely mortified at what you had just confessed. You had said so little but so much at the same time. The long haired boy turned around to face you, his smirk growing even wider as you refused to look at his face, instead becoming oddly fixated on the loose thread on your blazer. Slowly looking up due to the silence you finally looked at Xavier. Noticing his wide grin, a deep crimson flooded your cheeks, “Are you- Are you laughing at me?!” Much to your dismay, the tall boy cupped your face, stroking your flaming cheeks, “Huh. I think this might be my new favourite colour.” You had finally cracked, unable to form a coherent sentence as the boy held your face in his large hands.
Xavier cut off your rambling, “I really like you Y/n.” Your rambling came to a halt as you gasped slightly, whispering, “You like me?” The brunette chuckled at your reaction confirming, “Yes, Y/n. I like you if it weren’t obvious enough.” You paused unsure how to respond without being a blabbering mess. He sensed your troubles speaking for you, “You don’t need to say anything. I know you feel the same.” Your face was still slightly pink as a playful grin made its way through. You decided to get him back for flustering you so much, “And if I don’t?” Now it was his turn to start stammering, a pink hue overcoming his pale face as he hadn’t anticipated the possibility of you rejecting him. You took his hand in yours, your thumb brushing over his, “Relax dummy, I like you too.” Xavier let out a sigh of relief at your statement before a cocky smirk spread across his face, “Oh really now?”
You rolled your eyes at the boy’s antics, “Really.” A pause of silence fell over the two of you before his lanky arms pulled you closer as he leaned in planning on kissing you. You lightly smacked his arm, speaking in a harsh whisper, “Not in the hallway!” The brunette chuckled at your worries before dragging you to his dorm which was thankfully nearby. Your eyes twinkled with amazement as you looked at the many drawings littering his walls before Xavier pinned you against his door. You gulped at the intimate gesture, Xavier’s eyes staring at your plump lips, “Now…where were we?” Pulling him closer by the collar of his blazer you whispered leaning closer, your breath fanning over his face, “I believe you were about to kiss me.” Eager, the Thorpe boy obliged to your requests, leaning down to press his lips against yours.
You let out a whine at the way he pulled you flush against his body, your hands finding refuge in his long hair. You find yourself tugging lightly on his hair to which he would groan in response. He gripped on to your waist tighter than before, leaving you to gasp slightly. He takes this opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, mingling with yours. Xavier pulls away, and you pout whilst chasing his lips but he refuses your kiss. Your brows begin to furrow in confusion which quickly dissolves when he decides to start kissing your neck. He studies your reaction as he trails across different parts of your neck until he has you panting in need when he reaches the spot below your ear. Sucking harshly on the chosen spot you involuntarily let out a moan. You tense realising what you just did. “Sorry.” You whisper. His signature smirk appears on his face, his green eyes staring into yours, “Don’t be. Hopefully I’ll be hearing more of those.” He doesn’t give any time for your response, capturing your lips in another searing kiss.
The two of you finally pull away catching your breath. You tilted your head as you remembered today’s earlier events, your brows furrowing in confusion, “Wait so, why were you ignoring me the entire day then?” Xavier could only smile at you, “I had to get you to crack somehow.” You gasped at the boy, “Oh my god, so does that mean you knew I like you?” Xavier chuckled at your realisation, poking his tongue in his cheek as he smiled, “Let’s just say it was a lucky guess.”
Me when people comment and reblog after liking:
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Seriously though, it means the world. 😌
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the-slasher-files · 22 hours
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[[CALL OF DUTY]]
THESE BOYS - HEADCANONS
Hi friends! Welcome to my new fixation lol. I just wanted to start out with some headcanons just to kind of bulid them how I would like... Hope you enjoy🔪💕
MASTERLIST
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SIMON "GHOST" RILEY
As he says in the game, Simon has a heart, a very cold one, however to the people he truly loves and holds close you get to see his heart and it is one of gold. He is a man that has seen a lot in life and been through too much bad that he thinks there is no way he could ever be good or meant to find love, however that is completely untrue and sometimes Simon needs that reminder. It may take a solid year before he even smiles at you under the mask or let alone share a deep conversation with you. It takes a long time for him to trust, but when he does, you are his family. No if ands or buts.
Because of this Simon has a very small social circle. Ghost knows many due to work and connections, people he has worked for and favours he'd have favours to return, however Simon only knows a couple people, truly knows them. And when he knows you he reminds all of your subtle mannerisms, your childhood stories, want you like and what you hate. No detail will be forgotten and it is a pleasure to know him.
Ghost watches everything.... absolutely everything. On missions you often see him stepped aside or behind the others but that definitely doesn't mean he will stand there and take it, we all know that well, and at home is no exception. He likes to observe you in all ways from making your coffee in the morning to just watching you get ready for bed. This carries over into the bedroom, that's right, Simon loves to give orders and watch you do so much for him. You're his perfect little baby and he wants to see you a mess.
Also one of his favorite things is to have you sit in front of him and please yourself, watch you struggle to get the feeling only Simon can give you. Normally he doesn't have the patience of a God but for moments like these he will take his time to watch you fall apart for him only because Simon knows the world of pleasure and pain he will give you after.
Surprisingly however, this man is an incredibly giving person behind closed doors, just for you to see. Simon enjoys getting you little gifts after long grueling missions, buying your favorite food, he just doesn't like the kind of gifts that are overly showy like walking around with a bunch of flowers is not his style. Speaking of giving behind closed doors, Ghost loves to push you to your absolute limit in the bedroom, with all his observations of you he takes every little hint and move forward to get the best results so to speak. He simply cannot get off if you haven't at least twice before him.
However, do not let that pleasing and giving nature in the bedroom lull you into a false sense of security because Simon is a big fan of edging you over and over again, making you cry and squeal, hit him and claw at him, he wants to see/hear it all. Ghost is a sadist after all (just not as much as König).
Nights are the hardest for him, even though he will never admit it. Simon has a horrendous time trying to sleep and when he finally does it is very light, waking up if he hears a truck pull up or if you move too much in bed. No matter what you try he will just brush it off and say "Nothing to worry 'bout, love" but it does worry about you. Often times you will try to stay up with Simon and he appreciates it everytime but will always hush you to bed and watch you on his chest.
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KÖNIG
He may have severe social anxiety but when he is out in the field he gets so hopped up on adrenaline and stress that he becomes outgoing and more than capable of everything the mission needs, even becoming a leader when he needs to be. The problem comes when he is on the bases and in meetings, he shifts a lot in his seat, bounces his leg and even nibbles on his lips so badly they begin to bleed behind the mask. Even when König is home, the anxiety sets in so he relies on trying to keep constantly busy so he doesn't have to sit with his own thoughts.
With that, he surprisingly has a major caffeine addiction, it keeps him awake, alert and oddly makes him calm when he is on that high. Always the day has to begin with a black coffee then a redbull then whatever else he can get his hands on, even if he is on a mission König will try anything for energy drinks.
Although this man is a mountain, good luck keeping him still and being able to relax for the day. König will try for you to have a relaxing day on the couch and just watching movies, however, he just finds it impossible. If you want a day in bed, he doesn't have an issue but it just means you will be getting busy the whole time.
König is a big boy and that doesn't mean his stamina is low, no, no. It's the absolute opposite. One round is never enough for him, never, ever. When he gets home to see you, there is no way you are getting out of the primal, animalistic urges he has. There is a reason his name is "king", he always gets what he wants in not exactly the softest way. König's energy is more rough and needy, desperate I'm a way as he takes you in anyway possible, even forcing you to take it when you can't any longer. The man loves to use ropes as well, tying your writhing body down to watch you beg and cry with overstimulation as me makes you cum over and over, forcing you and breeding you animalistically. It will be hours before his knife comes out to cut the ropes and lap up any blood that comes from it.
Speaking of knives and blood, König has an honest love for it. He is gross the field, brutal and a 250 pound beast. His passion for knives is unmatched and sees pleasure in the kill when he plunges the blade within a body or when he gets a sniper shot.
König might be a huge mountain with anxiety, a passion for the thrill of the kill, often a stubborn bastard who can be a prick and his the libido of a God but when König finally finds his partner as awkward as he might be at first, he falls hard and is full of fire, feeling deeply and truly just wanting someone to talk with on the nights he can't sleep, although he sleeps like a fucking immovable rock. Now, you won't go out much to bars or movies or restaurants for dates, he just loves the quiet places and long drives.
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oceans-goddess · 23 hours
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Tyler Galpin x Reader Series Pt. 1-- The Weathervane
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A/N: I hope to have part 2 up soon! We will see how my homework treats me, haha
Summary: y/n is a Nevermore student who has the power to grow plants, but hasn’t fully harnessed them yet, making for quite the interesting first encounter with Tyler Galpin at the Weathervane.
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You usually kept to yourself at Nevermore, spending most of your time in your room or in the greenhouse with your beloved plants. You’d been sent to Nevermore because, despite all of your parents’ attempts to control your abilities, they’d spun wildly out of control, leaving a massive tree growing through your house. But it had been months since you started at Nevermore, and your teachers were slightly concerned about your lack of socialization.
“Why not spend some time in Jericho? You could get some fresh air!” They’d suggested, and though you didn’t really have a reason to be in town where you knew everyone would stare at you and call you a freak in huddled whispers, you liked walks, so you decided to try it out.
It took a while to get your bearings, having only driven through the town a few times, but you soon found a cute coffee shop called the Weathervane. In sharp contrast from the chilly winter air of Vermont, the cozy coffee shop was warm and welcoming. The croissants and other pastries on the counter smelled incredible. There was nobody in line, so you stepped up to the counter. 
Behind one of the coffee machines was a boy your age in a Weathervane uniform and an apron. He was quite cute, you noticed, with his brown hair curled above his ears and over his forehead, and his pink lips pressed together in concentration. You followed his gaze to see that he was working on a detailed bit of latte art-- a swan. It was intriguing to watch him, to watch his piece of work come together. But suddenly, it was ruined, one of the swan wings mixing into the coffee below and disappearing. The barista huffed in frustration, setting the cup down and looking up, only to yelp in surprise at your presence.
“I am- I’m so so sorry to have kept you waiting,” he spluttered, and you blushed at his sudden attention, feeling as though you had been caught in the act of staring at the beautiful boy in front of you. You didn’t notice the small daisy begin to blossom between your fingers on the counter when you introduced yourself shyly.
“No, it’s no problem! I was just watching you, um, make that swan. It was beautiful. I, um, I’m y/n”
He smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck before replying: “Nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Tyler. What can I get for you today?” You blushed when you realized that the entire time you’d been standing there, you hadn’t even thought to read the menu. Buttercups sprung up in your hair, and Tyler’s eyes grew wide at the sight of them, but you took his expression as impatience and said, “I’ll just have a hot chocolate and a croissant.”
He rang you up and began making your hot chocolate straight away, and you moved down the counter to wait at the pick-up sign. It wasn’t hard to begin staring again, noticing the way the lights above Tyler’s head glinted in his hair, the way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones when he looked down, the way one side of his mouth naturally quirked up into a half-smile, the way he-
“Here you go,” he said, and you were shaken out of your daydreams, ferns unfurling at your feet. You grabbed your order quickly and said thank you with an awkward smile before he asked, “Are you a Nevermore student?”
Seriously? Not even five minutes into talking with Tyler, and he’d already come to the conclusion that you were a freak, just as everyone else had. The ferns were as tall as your knee now, but you were too embarrassed to notice.
“Uh, yeah, I am. It’s that obvious?” you asked, refusing to look at anything other than your cup of cocoa. He chuckled, but answered in plain upon seeing your eyes widen in concern.
“Well, uh, you’ve kinda got...” he pointed to his head, “flowers, y’know, growing out of your hair.”
You slapped a hand over your mouth in horror, but he only chuckled again.
“Don’t worry, it’s cool. Very pretty, actually,” he reassured, but you couldn’t help internally cringing at your inability to control your power.
“Thanks,” you said anyway, and looked down at your shoes in dismay, only to realize ferns as tall as the countertop brushing against your skirt.
“Um, I’m sorry-- thank you-- I have to go now,” you said, spinning on your heels and hurrying away from the mess you’d just caused. You were sure it would only make things worse if you tried to help clean it up.
Little did you know, you’d left Tyler Galpin staring at your receding figure in wonder, and he was surprisingly delighted to find your ferns across the counter soon after your departure.
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chickenparm · 5 hours
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here's some scaramouche/wanderer beating off to the thought of the reader after being too much of a pussy to act on his feelings for the 10,000th time. it's meant to be gender neutral, but i've heard my GN stuff leans toward feminine still. either way, no pronouns, no descriptions.
@venranae made that art, then grabbed me by the neck and shook me around like a dead chicken until ~1200 words fell out of my pockets.
---
Next time, he promises himself. He won’t hesitate again. It doesn’t make him feel any better, considering it’s become a mantra at this point to self-soothe in such an inadequate way. 
Maybe it’ll be different. He won’t hesitate when it counts. That’s a lie, as well.
AO3 LINK
Scaramouche/Reader 1,193 Words - NSFW Male Masturbation, Pining, Finger-Sucking
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Centuries of life, uncountable missteps, mistakes incomprehensible. A lifetime of follies, yet he never felt as foolish as he does right now.
His greatest mistake hangs over his shoulders like a thick smoke, settling into his bare skin and staining it with the markings of one who failed. It would have been so easy to do, had he simply just turned his head a little to the side and done what his body had been yearning to do. 
As a result of his… inhumanity, he’s always run a little cold. It never bothered him before, the temperature was a non-issue. But as he palms himself callously, then switches to a softer touch as his fingers wrap around the base of his cock, he yearns for a touch that’s a little warmer, a little softer, a little more human. 
He yearns for you. 
It’s a novel feeling. Sure, he’s wanted things before in his life. In fact, he’s been pretty selfish for the vast majority of it. And even acknowledging that fact, he doesn’t even feel bad about it. If given any chance, he’ll continue to be that way because the only person he really can count on is himself. 
And you. That’s a bit of an afterthought, but no less important. In the time he’s been at your side, you’ve proven over and over again that in a small way, his thought process was slightly flawed. Deeply, he wants to deny the feeling of stability you provide, but there’s no shaking it when you’d taken the hand he offered without hesitation, letting him first lift you with his vision, then let you climb on his back with only a little complaint. 
Then your chin landed on his shoulder, the quiet sounds of your laughter curling around the shell of his ear until goosebumps raised along his skin. In the sliver of skin between his undershirt and kimono, your cheek pressed against it as you marveled at the sight he’d seen fit to show you. 
In this moment, he can’t even remember how it looked. All he can focus on is the way you’d smelled, the feel of your arms looping beneath his in an attempt to stabilize yourself as the two of you remained aloft. The phantom feel of your palms along his chest as you’d clung to him with giddiness stemming from your excitement. 
All he’d needed to do was turn his head. Just a short distance and he could have kissed you. Perhaps you would have reciprocated in all the ways he found himself desperate for, the languid pace of his strokes stuttering at the mere thought of feeling your affection. Even the imagined taste of it on his tongue was enough to make his skin warm, his palms grow clammy, his eyes snap shut in an effort to chase it greedily. 
He’s felt your hands before. When you unnecessarily wrap a wound that’s likely to heal within hours, when you grab his wrist and pull him along in an unexpected direction. It’s soft aside from the few calluses on your fingers from your swordsmanship, but he’s certain they’d feel like heaven if you were to replace his hands on himself with your own. One on his arousal, the other flat across his chest where his heart would be racing if he’d been seen fit to own one. 
A scary little thought crosses his mind that he does have a heart now. It exists out of his body, occupying his thoughts even in his most vulnerable moments. With small smiles and words of encouragement, a patience that extends beyond the boundaries that his abrasiveness tends to push at. Even when he knows he’s crossed a line, you only sigh and graciously look the other way until he can compose himself. 
Composure is lost now, left at the wayside in favor of his grip tightening and his hand traveling up his chest, his collarbones, his neck, to his mouth where his own fingers push down on his tongue. It’s easy enough to pretend that they’re yours when he tries hard enough, his thoughts muddled by the imagery of you exploring every inch of him with unbridled fascination. 
His tongue matches the pace of his strokes, pushing and pulling along the length of his fingers with too much fervor to be anywhere near healthy. At his tongue pushing at the webbing between his middle and index finger, the tips pushing dangerously close to the back of his throat, he groans a muffled mockery of your name. 
What he wouldn’t give to see the look in your eye as he did everything you wanted. There’s nothing you could name that he’d fall short of doing for you, so long as you gave him that little smile that made every atom of his body hum with satisfaction. And while he’d be doing it for you, he’d proudly proclaim he was doing it for himself - because your satisfaction is his own, he’s come to realize with startling clarity. 
The fingers in his mouth have lost their salty taste, leaving him with just the sensation of nearly gagging on himself, gagging on you. His fingers slide away, leaving a wet trail across his chin, his chest, his thigh as he grabs there briefly. The bedsheets are next to be gripped, nearly tearing between his fingers as he searches for a handhold to keep him stable in this moment rather than lost in thoughts of how you’d look, smell, taste, feel.
Pushing onto his knees, hunching in on himself as his wrist twists just right to make his eyes roll, his eyelids flutter at the thought of you lying beneath him. Sprawled and waiting, welcoming him with coos of his name - the one you gave - until he can do nothing but sink into you helplessly in every sense of the word. He’s certain it would be like drowning, descending deeper and deeper until the light can no longer reach him. 
But behind closed eyelids, there’s an insistent glow that’s so reminiscent of his thoughts of you that he’s convinced he somehow manifested his desires into reality. But as he opens them, his rocking hips stuttering against his hand with his release, it’s painfully obvious that the glow comes from himself. Blue markings pulse like the rising and falling of the tides, in tandem with each roll of his climax that sullies the sheets before him. 
His lip throbs beneath the pressure of his own teeth. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the disappointment, though the only person he really blames for that is himself. When it comes to you, there are a series of choices he’s made that leave him dissatisfied on every level. They reduce him to sitting alone in a darkened room, naked and disgusted with himself at the yearning that still lingers like a fog that won’t lift. 
Next time, he promises himself. He won’t hesitate again. It doesn’t make him feel any better, considering it’s become a mantra at this point to self-soothe in such an inadequate way. 
Maybe it’ll be different. He won’t hesitate when it counts. That’s a lie, as well.
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tommydarlings · 9 hours
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pairing: sub!reader x dom!carlos
warnings: cheating, smut, chocking, hair pulling
my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3
“Your so cock desperate that you are even risking your relationship and cheat on your boyfriend just for some cock. So fucking pathetic.” The Spaniard muttered harshly into your ear after he swiftly grabbed the back of your head and pulled your head towards his shoulder with a groan.
“Didn’t knew our little lando boy get's the chance to fuck such a good pussy every single night, like how did he deserve it?, what does this little orange kid have that I don’t have?” He asked you as you both felt your orgasms creeping closer already. Carlos's hips were ramming into your shaking figure with a quick pace, definitely showing that he’s a formula one driver with a good feeling of rhythm.
He harshly pulled your head by your hair out of the crock of his neck, you were feeling like you were floating or some shit like that, so you dropped your head again, feeling the entire feeling of his cock and hands overcoming you.
“Oh no no no, cariño, Vas a mirar al hombre que te hace sentir tan jodidamente bien.” Your gonna look at the man that makes you feel so good.
You whined and looked at him with glassy eyes before he quickly put his hand around your throat and squeezed harshly, wanting you to pay attention to him and only him.
“Mírame.” Look at me.
You whined even louder as soon as you caught his dark gaze, looking directly into your eyes while his dick didn’t stop the assault on your clenching cunt, hand holding you in place.
“I think you need to be seriously put in your place, zorra.“ slut.
He tilted his head and moved his hips a bit slower but harder into yours before he went on,
“I sometimes have the feeling that the little lando never punishes you now does he? No, right? Always telling you it's okay even though you exactly know how much of a ungrateful brat you are, knowing that you should get that pussy fucked until you physically can’t anymore.” He stated quietly as you came around his big cock.
“Just like that baby, let it all out, enjoying it to get fucked by a proper man, don’t you?” After feeling like he completely emptied you, you dropped onto his shoulder and hugged him. Carlos slowly kissed his way up from your neck, up to your temple.
“You can always come to me, you hear me? Always.”
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myfandomprompts · 5 hours
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Aemond x Reader - You Were Always With Me - Chapter 21
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Summary: Aemond finally has you for himself. But the war won't make his life easy. He has to let you go.
Warning: smut, jealousy, possessive behaviour, semi-violent smut
(Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 20 - Part 22)
It was one of the best sleep you ever had.
Adding to the exhaustion of yours past travels, you could still tell how Aemond was the one in a dire need of rest. And rest he did. He was a sight to see as he slowly breathed next to you. You could say that you had grown accustom to his closeness and peaceful sight since your return from Sandstones and the nights you had spent together, but this was different, the dawn of something else. You wondered how you had lived without it before. After a while of quiet admiration of his features, you left the bedsheets and ordered a long needed bath for yourself, letting your husband have his rest.
The hot water you submerged yourself in made you loose track of time, the peaceful noise of the birds outside soothing you into slumber. But it was not long before Aemond came through the door, handsome as ever and barely dressed in his white linens, walking towards you as he gently scolded you.
“How dare you leave my side after our honeymoon night? I should not have to search for you.” he said, fighting a smile.
“I felt the need for cleansing and heat. I apologise for leaving you.”
He slowly crouched next to the tub, resting his elbows on the edge as he plunged his hand into the water, reaching for your belly.
“We Targaryens love the heat. I believe that your blood now crave for it too.” he declared as he looked at your form under the water. You went to rest your hand on his and the other grazing his arm in affection.
“Do not speak of it to anyone yet.” he spoke again, as he caressed your abdomen with his fingers, troubling the water. “Even my family.”
“Why? I know it is still early but…” You knew pregnancies could always go wrong, but you did not want to think about it.
“It’s not about this. I only believe it better to keep this to ourselves. Being of my blood is dangerous these days, I do not want anything happening to you. To the babe.”
You bit your lips. From this side you mainly saw his sapphire eye, his profile hiding his purple one. You put damp fingers over his scar.
“You always are keen to believe me unable to protect myself it seems. Should I be offended?”
He smiled weakly and took your hand resting on his face to kiss the back of it. “We will see about that once you had beaten Cole in battle.”
You laughed softly as you sat up in the tub in order to be closer to him.
“You know… I think Helaena knew.” you stated, wishing to take his mind of whatever dreadful thoughts were going on his mind. “Somehow she knew that I would become your wife. Even when Cassandra was still… I mean, when she was still in the picture.”
A dark chuckle emanated from him. “Yes. She might have discovered my… esteem for you very early on. She can be very observant at times.”
“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly did you do to make her think such a dreadful thing?” you jested, your nose inches from his.
“Believe me when I say that it was not my intention to let my sister know of my desires. I guess that I was not as skilled to hide my emotions as I am now.”
His lips curved upwards at the remembrance. You recalled otherwise.
“It depends of the emotions I suppose.” you said tautly. “Do you remember Lady Errol per chance?” you inquired, referring to a young maiden of a great House that had been relentless at seducing Aemond, not that many years ago. You did not carry her in your heart.
Aemond looked at you with interest “I do. What of her?
“If I remember correctly, you did snap at her when she asked you to dance with her at Aegon’s wedding. Not very emotionless of you my Prince.” Aemond exhaled through his nose in brief annoyance as he played with the water near your breasts.
“She was constantly in my way and insisting on singing to me Lun the Last. I hate that ballad.”
“Oh, I know you do.” you said, mischief in your voice.
Aemond’s eye shot up at you with sudden interest.
“It was you? You told her that it was my favourite and that I would love to hear it for my brother’s wedding feast?”
You tried to remain as innocent looking as possible as Aemond watched you incredulously.
“It was a harmless joke. Besides, it had the merit of making Helaena laugh.”
Aemond was now staring at the glint in your eyes.
“I always had hoped. That you would be jealous of her.”
And how much you were. Each time a girl, after witnessing Aegon’s unattractive behaviour, was brave enough to try and lure Aemond with their charms, you felt how your skin would burn and your heart would ache. Of course you had tried to battle those feelings at the time, refusing to let them come to the surface, but Aemond never strayed from his distant behaviour, even for the prettiest of them. So you were doomed in watching ladies after ladies try and seduce him as he grew up to a fierce and handsome man.
You bit your lips in guilt, meeting Aemond’s amused gaze. His hand left your belly for your face and he pulled you into a gentle kiss.
“You are the only one that mattered” he whispered against your lips.
Although the water was starting to get cold, your body was heating up, and after peering into his eye for too long you pulled him into a feverish kiss again.
Your hold on his jaw was so strong that you feared you would mark it, you just had to have him whole, all of him for yourself. The kiss was shifting into something more and he leaned closer over the tub, his hair dipping further into the water as he managed to cup your head more gently than you as you clanged onto him, but he barely manages to held back himself. You could sense how much he wanted to put your body close to him, something you wanted to if not for the copper bath that prevented you to do so. His breath turned heavier, mirroring yours and when you gasped for air he did not stop, taking the opportunity to claim your mouth further.
The knock on your door were not heard by both of you at first, too enthralled by each other, but the knocking continued and when he groaned in annoyance into your mouth you were forced to acknowledge it as well. He still chose to ignore it, his hand gripping your hair but when a voice called for you over of the incessant knocking he deeply sighed, closing his eye as he refrained himself from yelling to leave you alone. But he let go of you and stood up, walking to the door.
As you watched him disappear behind the folding screen you heard Aemond loud “What is it?” resonate as he opened the door violently, and you thought that whoever was behind it would surely be scared for its life. You could not decipher what was said but then you heard the door close again and saw Aemond reappear, an upset look on his face. He sat next to you again, his jaw clenched and he pitching the bridge of his nose, eyes closed in deep annoyance.
“My brother wishes to see you. To congratulate you. Us.”
You really hope that by brother, Aemond had meant Daeron. But you knew it a fool’s hope. You swallowed nervously.
“Well. I will not make the King awaits.” you declared as you grabbed the side of the tub, Aemond rising up to support you.
“I don’t know if I’ll allow it. He is not the same since you last met with him.”
“He is still the King. I owe him as such. Besides, he now is my... brother-in-law.”
Gods, you did not thought of that until now, and visibly neither did Aemond as you saw him flinch at your words. So be it, but he would not let you go alone.
The royal chamber was dark, but despite the lack of proper sunlight you could still see what stood out the most in the room besides the bed: tables were filled with bottles, herbal jars and other medicine you didn’t recognised despite having studied them. Although, you were certain half of them were wine, as cups laid around the beside table, empty, leaving the smell of alcohol travelling through the air.
Aemond closed the door behind you as you walked closer to the bed, where Aegon, eyes tired but happy to see you, was seated against the headboard.
“Dear Y/N.” he greeted you, extending his hands for you to take them.
“Let me congratulate you on your wedding. It is a welcome thing for sure during such challenging times.”
You thanked him graciously, glad to see that he did not seem too light-headed by all of the medicine he had took. How wrong you were.
“I do apologize for my absence at the ceremony however. In normal circumstances, I would never have missed such rejoices, and certainly not my brother’s success at securing someone who would not try to kill him in his sleep, however capable you may be.”
You heard Aemond snigger darkly behind you. He had stayed behind, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, silently watching your exchange.
Aegon tilted his head in his direction with sly interest, allowing you to see the severe burns that had him suffering so badly on his neck and no doubts, further down his flesh. As he moved, the smell of wine reached your nose strongly.
“It is odd, I do not remember summoning you Aemond. Only Y/N.”
Aemond looked straight at him, his eye widening in a deranged manner.
“And yet, here I am.” he said coldly.
Aegon’s gaze turned red briefly but he quickly returned his attention onto you, choosing to ignore his brother’s presence. You did not like how his fingers were now caressing your hand as he was still holding them, his wicked smile finding his way to his face again.
“I must say brother that you did a fine choice.” he spoke. “I have met the Baratheon girl and-” he stopped to grimace as if he tried to chase a bad memory. You felt Aemond’s body shift behind you. “Let us say that I would rather have you in the family. You are more… unique.”
He had looked at you up and down as he said that, an lustful look on his face as he revelled in your form. Aemond had straighten up from the wall at once, unfolding his arms and looking straight at his brother as he clenched his fists.
You deeply frowned in distress, wondering what you had done to deserve such a look. But you could not deny that Aegon had never shown any interest in you over the years. As a matter of fact, you recalled many times when he would approach you with his wicked grin of his, and each time Aemond was absent. You had always managed to keep your distance however.
“I am flattered my King.” you lied, bowing your head as you sensed Aemond coming closer. “But do not let me bother you any longer. I am sure you need rest.”
You had managed to take a step back in order to free your hands from his grasp, and his eyes hardened at the move, his drunken demeanour unfolding before you.
“How did the bedding ceremony go? I heard you refused it brother.” he said loudly enough for Aemond to hear clearly, ignoring your last comment. “It’s a shame. Or perhaps it is you who are ashamed? I have never seen you give any interest in the matter since your thirteen name day. But you needn’t be-”
“That’s enough.” you heard Aemond say tense next to you, his eye boring into his Aegon in mere restraint.
“What is it brother? Is my assertion right? Are you sure you can fulfil her yourslef or does she need to be shown? I would gladly oblige.”
Aemond was on him the next second, grabbing him by the collar roughly, his face inches from his brother’s.
“Careful Aegon. Perhaps I cannot keep my sister away from you and your depravity, but I will not have my wife listen to your drunken ranting. Do not loose the remaining respect I have for you.”
Aemond voice was low, threatening. You could not see his face but Aegon’s was harbouring a disrespectful grin, watching his brother through lazy eyes.
“So I am correct, aren’t I?” he boldly stated. He was lurching on his spot, barely registering the grip his brother had on his collar.
You heard Aemond take a deep breath, but did not act. He roughly released his brother after a while, sending him to hit the headboard in a thump before rising and grabbing you by the waist to depart.
“Pitiful.” you heard him say under his breath. His face was tense, and his body was radiating such anger that you feared it would burn your skin.
“If he summons you again, do not go.” he told you as you passed the door and led you to secluded alcove in the corridor. “I will inform my mother that he is not well enough and has lost the privilege to be granted of your presence.”
“It doesn’t matter to me Aemond. He is in pain, he is not thinking clearly.”
“It matters to me!” he shouted, then he let go of you after realising how hard he was squeezing your sides. His eye was staring everywhere but at you, eager to not let you see this side of him. The one he could not control.
“Go back alone. I need to go to the training grounds. I will be back shortly.”
Hoping to pass his anger through the sword, he turned on his heels only to be stopped by your hand on his arm.
“No Aemond. Don’t do this, do not distance yourself from me.”
He froze, still unable to look up at you. You brought his head to face you, hand resting on his jaw. “Stay with me.”
“Do not make me. You don’t want to witness this. Me.” he said as his gaze landed on the base of your neck, avoiding your pleading stare. He was still raging inside, but you only embraced him.
“Stay. Please.”
Then your touch elicited something in him, enhancing his anger as he loosed himself into your touch, eyes lingering on your plump lips. The one he possessed.
“Aegon is a wastrel who believes everything is owned to him. But you are mine. No one will touch you, no one else but me, do you understand?” he seethed, more talking to himself than you.
You could only nod as he had his hand clasped around your throat, squeezing hardly. Your breath got caught into your lungs as you felt him unleash his retained wrath onto your skin, teeth sinking into the flesh of your neck and hand lifting up your dress as he scooped you up, wrapping your legs around his hips.
He took you, harshly, and you could not help but feel troubled by his behaviour.
His movements were erratic, desperate, and you liked it, you welcome every side of his being, regardless of how it would affect you.
Your fingers were digging into his shoulder as he mercilessly pounded into you, savouring the sound he made when he jerked in pleasure at his final release, leaving him panting against your skin. Your hands buried themselves into his hair and he nuzzled his face into your neck, his hot breath moving your hair.
“I’m sorry.” he whispered after a while, his voice slightly shaking.
You immediately took his head in your hands, making him you look at you.
“I am not.”
He was incredibly grateful that you were his wife.
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The White Worm saw no valid reason for this bickering. All around the fire, the Blacks were discussing how to use one of their greatest asset, but the White Worm thought the matter limpid. They would strike soon anyway.
“We cannot risk them to openly fight. As grateful as I am for their support, exposing them would angered Sunspear as they went over their direct orders. We cannot afford that at the moment.” Rhaenyra Targaryen was seated nearest to the fire, looking up at his son Jacaerys.
“Why not? They have men and we need men. Without mentioning the skilled assassin they own.” Daemon intervened, seated across from her. “The support of the Qorgyle is a blessing, and all of this thanks to my dear nephew who decided wise to steal a girl who was betrothed to them and do… gods knows what with her.” he said, sweeping his hand in the air. “We should use them without delay.”
“He married her.”
All eyes turned towards the Mistress of whisperers.
“What?” said Jace, bewildered.
“Three days ago, in a small gathering. Before a Septon.” she confirmed.
All remained silent as some looked at Ser Lorent who shifted uncomfortably in his armour upon hearing of his cousin’s daughter marriage to a monster.
“We have to get her out of there.” concluded Jacaerys, breaking the silence. He has always adored Y/N and could not bear to see her in the arms of the one who had killed his brother.
“No, it is too much of a risk. For all we know, she is chained in the dungeons, a prize for her father’s loyalty as he did for the Baratheons.” Rhaenyra replied but she was interrupted by her son again.
“This is exactly the reason why she needs us! Her father always supported you mother, and she is no different. She can be helpfull to us, we only need to make her escape King’s Landing.” Jace loudly proposed, Rhaena nodding in agreement next to him.
“This is exactly what he wants.” Daemon interjected, trying to see clearly in the game his nephew was playing. “That snake surely married her to provoke us, attempting to angry us because we considered her as one of our own! He does not need the Lydden’s support, hell, he does not even care for a wife! The Baratheon girl is prove enough.”
Jace was aghast at the words of his step-father, looking desperately at his betrothed for support, but the White Worm spoke again.
“He does care for her.” They all looked at her with incredulous eyes.
“He is the one who took her out of Storm’s End did he not?” she kept on, stating the obvious. “Then went to retrieve her as she was about to marry? I hardly would describe that as not caring. She is the Stolen Jewel after all.”
Silence followed, as they all struggled to imagine Aemond the Kinslayer caring about anything else than obliterate every Blacks that would come upon his path with Laena’s dragon, until none remained.
“Then we use her.”
Rhaenyra’s word attracted shocked looks on her, some were unsure that she had indeed spoken, but soon Jacearys were arguing alongside Baela, stating that Y/N should not be used as a pawn.
“He killed my son!”
All fell silent at the Queen’s sudden outburst, Daemon eyed his wife in wariness, eager to see the side of her that would not let this crime go unpunished. Daemon loathed his nephew as much as he admired him.
“I will not harm her.” Rhaenyra softly spoke after meeting her son and Rhaena’s appalled faces.
She remembered your time in Dragonstone, and your smile at King’s Landing when you were only just a child, playing with her sons under the watchful eye of your father who was always loyal to Viserys.
“But if it’s true, if he truly cares for her” she kept on, glancing at the White Worm. “We can use her to lure Aemond, lure Vhagar out. We cannot waste this opportunity.”
She looked at Daemon for approbation, meeting his proud smirk as she spoke. “She is our only strong link inside the Greens, if she still is on our side.”
Jacaerys and Rhaena both looked at each other, forced to agree with the Black Queen.
A plan was agreed upon during this small gathering. The White Worm’s agent would try to reach her and deliver her a message from Jace, then her escape would be put to motion.
As she listened, Rhaenyra felt iron in her mouth. Aemond Targaryen’s cruelty had cost her a son, and as the White Worm departed, she secretly hoped that Y/N was with child.
An eye for an eye. A son for a son.
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Days had passed since Aemond was away, and your new ladies in waiting were your only company. More accurately, Hightowers distant family members were your ladies in waiting, the emptiness of the Red Keep making it difficult to come across anyone of your age these days.
The Dowager Queen was either praying or taking care of her children and grandchildren, and Daeron had been the only one around to protect King’s Landing, however he spent most of his time with his grandfather when he was not watching over the Bay. The only news you had was the fact that Criston Cole was to come back shortly, Tumbleton having been taken by the Hightowers recently and called back by Aemond to defend the Bay.
Then one early morning, you were woken by a commotion that shake the entire Keep, making you jump straight out of bed. It was still dark as you peaked your head outside, only to be urged back inside by the guard in charge of your protection. Servants and nobles were screaming in the corridors and you did as you were told, grabbing your own dagger for protection as you closed the door.
After a short while you were dragged to the Queen’s quarters and put into a chamber with Helaena and the children. This is where you heard.
The King was dead. Murdered. Otto Hightower had been daggered by the assailant as he tried to protect his grandson. He had died shortly after.
Your heart pounded inside your chest in shock as you sat down next to Helaena in the dark lit room, taking on the news of Aegon’s death.
You were ordered to remain behind closed door, secured in the chambers as Criston Cole kept the Dowager Queen close. Although the assassin had been killed as he tried to escape, the Lord Commander did not rest until every square inch of the Keep had been searched for an accomplice.
You stayed close to Helaena who has not said a single word, as she rarely did those days. She was staring straight into the void, not feeling your touch when you tried to take her hand in comfort.
So instead you stared at Jaheaerys all morning. The new King to be.
Everything settled down the afternoon, and as Alicent came to check on her daughter, trying to appear as strong as she could as she had just lost a child, you had been able to learn more by her and the guards.
The assassin had infiltrated the castle deep into the night and had reached the King’s chambers, planning on poisoning him. However a servant had spotted the dark figure and warned a guard, the noise putting Otto Hightower out of his bed and making him go straight to Aegon. The assassin, out of time had slit Aegon’s throat and stabbed Otto in order to escape, only to be stopped by the Kingsguard.
They believed the assassin Dornish, and although he bore no sigil, the poison found on him was one used was of the south of Dorne. This new piece of information made you shiver, Larys Strong had seen right, and you could not help but feel responsible for this.
You watched how much Alicent showed nothing appear of her grief as she soothed her daughter. She had lost her father, and a son. Your hand went to your stomach, thinking how much pain loosing a child would inflict to someone.
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Daeron has been sent at once to retrieve Aemond and deliver the news only to him. They had landed and gathered a war council right away after Aemond had sent a Kingsguard name Martson Water at your side. Talks of crowing the seven years old heir were already travelling the corridors of the Red Keep, but you knew Aemond was the one everybody would look up to, although you were certain that he would do anything to strengthen the Greens’ claim of the Iron Throne and could not afford to wait for Jaheaerys to be King.
But the first thing he did stunned you as he found you, embracing you tightly.
“You will leave tomorrow for Deep Den.”
“I beg you pardon?” you replied, looking at him with furrowed brows.
Aemond then explained to you that after what happened, he will have you removed from the castle as he deemed the place not safe any more, his absence making him worried each time he had to leave you in a place he thought crawling with spies and traitors. For the first time, you could see how much the war affected him, increasing his paranoia and his hot-tempered nature and making him take unwise decisions.
You tried to argue, taken aback by his lack of emotions after his brother’s and grandfather’s death. You wished he would let go of his grief around you.
He only dismissed your refusal to leave in assessing that you would be safer hidden, that he knew that the assassins would come for you next. For the babe.
“You are not thinking clearly Aemond, you cannot send me away.”
“It was the Qorgyles! We both know it Y/N. They rallied the Blacks and send their vengeful scorpion do their bidding in their stead. Cowards.” His eye was displaying pure distress as he yelled at you. “But I will not let my family fall. They won’t have you.” his lips trembled now, and you did not know if it was of anger or fright.
“I need you safe until I secure King’s Landing, secure the bay. Until I kill everyone of them for what they did.”
You cupped his neck and caressed the outlined of his jaw, making him come to a stop in his outburst.
“What of Helaena? What of your mother?”
“My sister refuses to hear me, she won’t leave the twins and I need Jaehaerys here for the time being. As for my mother she will never agree to leave her behind. But I will find a way. For now you are my priority.”
You still would not yield.
“Aemond don’t sent me away from you.”
He brushed your lips, peering into your eyes and he gently pulled you into a kiss. His body shook against your and you felt him hold back his emotions once again, all of his grief fighting to come to the surface, his anger and need for revenge barely held inside of him.
“You leave tomorrow.”
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-0- Part 22 (soon)
@let-love-bleeds-red @crazylokonugget @jeyramarie @ephemeralninon @mrswhitethornbelikov @dudfahsn @missusnora @queenofterrasen418 @honeytrapsblogp-graham @heathclifftragedyy @discowizard88 @ivartheblessed @xceafh @bubbletae7 @omgkatherine97 @tzipora-art @signyvenetia @ml0103 @nsainmoonchild @lonadane @skythighs @bietchz @samnblack @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @projectcampbell @ripdragonbeans @caribbeangal @polireader @zillahvathek @moni-cah @literishdegree99 @a-beaverhausen @thekinslayer @maniccrystalhippie @princessofdarkwinter @isaxbella749 @claudie-080102 @ebaylee422 @hydrationqueensworld @crumblychunksofheaven @officiallyunofficialperson
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kermitkrqb · 3 hours
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Sweet Nothings || Xavier Thorpe x reader
A/N: Him. 🫠
What to expect: Gender neutral as usual, soft xavier, the reader and him are equally as clingy, fluff fluff fluff, established relationship, short and sweet, no spoilers darlings!
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Turning restlessly on your bed, a frustrated huff fell from your lips as you struggled to fall asleep. You and Xavier hadn’t been able to spend any time together the entire week due to the many exams and assignments given. It was as if you were facing withdrawal from the long haired boy’s absence. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same. A small tap on your window interrupted your thoughts. You tilted your head up to the source of the noise and saw his forest eyes peering at you through the window. Wasting no time, you rushed to open the window pulling Xavier in before the cold air of the night could bite. Wrapping his arms around your waist as you looked up at him, he smirked, “Did you miss me?” You groaned, burying your face into his chest, “More than you could ever know.” His green eyes softened at you before he guided the two of you to your bed to lay down.
The brunette’s slender fingers ran across your hair as you melted into his side, your arm resting on his chest. Allowing the steady beating of his heart to ground you, you let out a sigh of content. Xavier studied your tired form, pressing a sweet kiss into your temple, “You haven’t been sleeping, have you?” Hiding your face in his chest, a muffled whisper came out, “…No.” Your boyfriend let out a tut of disapproval before tilting your chin up with a gentle hand, “Love, you have got to take care of yourself.” A sheepish smile overcomes you with the nickname, “You’re here now, so that’s all that matters.” Brushing a stray hair from his face Xavier leaned in pressing his soft lips against yours as he pulled you in closer. After a while, he pulls away and rests his chin on top of your head. You can feel your heavy eyes give away to the flutter of sleep.
Xavier watches as you sleep in his arms. His hand comes up to brush away any hair covering your peaceful face. He smiles fondly at your sleeping form wondering if life could get any better than this. Pressing another sweet kiss to your temple, he whispers sweet nothings, “I love you, Y/n.” Xavier hadn’t yet mustered up the courage to tell you consciously, but for now he’ll stick to whispering his ‘I love you’s’ as you dream. Closing his eyes, the long haired boy joins you in sleep. He wishes for an eternity of whispering sweet nothings to you if it means he gets to keep you in his arms on nights like this.
A/n: I’m gonna cry this is so much sweeter than I expected 😭😭😭😭😭
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nebs4real · 10 hours
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xavier is the type of guy who sneaks into your bedroom at night, surprising you with kisses and cuddles.
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victoriadallonfan · 10 hours
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Art by Haime22
Janus - Victoria Dallon from the end of Ward is sent back in time as a voice in Taylor Hebert's head. Not only that, at night, she takes control of Taylor's body and notices that they seem to be fusing together....
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