#he doesn’t know what queen’s last name is
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The Second Bridgerton and I: Part 3
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Summary: Y/n Clearwater becomes named the “Sparkling Diamond” by Queen Charlotte herself, but she doesn’t know what to do with all this attention. Of course she has her family, but sometimes that doesn’t seem enough. But what happens when she encounters a specific Bridgerton, which changes the course of her season.
Author’s Note: This chapter includes scenes from season 3 episode 2 & 3 of Bridgerton indirectly. Down below is the link to the part 2. I hope you enjoy! Y/nn= reader’s nick name
I walked into the drawing room to see my brothers and sister sitting at a table while my mama was sitting on the love seat while sipping tea. My father was nowhere in sight, so I assumed he was in his office taking care of business. I walked in without greeting and began searching for my small purse.
“Are you not going to say good morning to us sister?” Noah asked
“Are you not happy to see us?” Alex jested.
I paused from my searching and turned to my siblings.
“Good morning.”
“Well someone seems happy to see us.”Alexander said sarcastically and continued to read his morning newspaper.
I continued my search.
“What is it that you are searching for Y/n and why are you in such a haste?” My mama asked.
“My small purse.” I replied.
“Oh are you planning on shopping? I was planning on going to the modiste this morning with Adeline.”
“No!”
My mom looked startled at my tone towards her and so did my siblings.
“I’m sorry. I do not know what came over me. I meant no, because I am a planning on shopping with Penelope. I want to cheer her up after the news.”
Lady Whistedown’s latest issue was released this morning and it was anything, but good for Penelope right now. Now the whole ton knew about the agreement between Penelope and Colin and I know this will definitely cause a setback in her search to find a match. I haven’t spoken with her since last night’s ball and I want to make sure that she is well.
When I mentioned Penelope my mama showed a look of understanding. We all read the paper this morning and the dreadful things that was said about Penelope.
“If you wish to see Penelope then you may do so.” My mama said, “Maybe she can join us.”
“I think she would like that.” I said.
“I will look for your small purse while you go over to the Featherington household.”
“Thank you mama.”
I quickly rushed out of the drawing room and out of the house to walk to the Featherington household. When I stepped outside I noticed what a beautiful day it was. I couldn’t help but admire the flowers that were starting to bloom and appreciate the breeze that would blow occasionally. I enjoy the spring and summer seasons more than the autumn and winter seasons and I am glad the weather will become warmer.
I made it to the door of the Featherington household and knocked. Lucy answered the door. She was a maid who I encountered whenever I visited Penelope.
“Y/n it is a pleasure to see you. Are you here for Penelope?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll go get her.”
I smiled and she let me in. It was quiet, but it was usually quiet in the Featherington household. I hope I wouldn’t encounter Lady Featherington or her daughters. I only have been visiting Penelope this season and I have interacted with the other Featheringtons and they are very vexing people. Especially towards Penelope. I hope they are out shopping somewhere and not here.
I heard footsteps approaching and I saw Lucy walk down the stairs, but with no Penelope in sight.
“I’m sorry Y/n. Penelope does not wish to meet with anyone at the moment. However, she wanted me to tell you that she would like to spend time with you another day.”
“Yes tell her I would love that. Good day.”
“Thank you. Good day to you as well.”
I smiled and made my way back to my house. It was unfortunate that my efforts were in vain, but I hope I get to speak with Penelope soon.
—————————
“Can I stop by the library?!” I exclaimed, “I’m in need of a new good read.”
“Go ahead dearest.” Said mama. “Adeline and I will be in the shop across the street.”
I thanked my mama and walked into Thomas’s book store. Thomas was a nice old man who owned a book store at the end of the street. Many people visited the huge bookstore in the main plaza, but I liked coming here instead because Thomas would always set books aside for me that he thought I might like.
The bell rang as I entered and Thomas was seated by the front desk.
“Well look who it is my favorite customer.”
“I’m glad to be back. Do you have any good books?”
Thomas pulled a book from the shelf behind him and placed it on the counter.
“The newest romance novel by your favorite author.”
“Only one book? Really Thomas!” I joked.
“It’s the only new book I have that I thought you might like. Unless you want a book of fact.”
I showed a face of disgust and Thomas laughed.
“Yeah I didn’t think so.” He said,”You can search the store for more books yourself if you would like.”
“I think I will. Can you hold that book for me?”
“Of course!”
“Thank you.”
I began my search to find a book I might find interesting. Thomas picked a book of romance for me, so maybe I should read something different. Something I usually would not read, but also not boring. Usually I turn right to the romance section, but this time I decided to turn left.
I entered an aisle and began reading the spines of the books to see if any of the titles peaked my interest. I saw a book that was named women in society and it seemed interesting enough. It is a book of fact, but it would be good for me as well since I do not pay much attention to society anyway. I tried to reach for the book, but I was simply too short. I looked around for a ladder, but there was not one in sight. I reached as far as I could for the book, but it was still out of reach. I huffed in annoyance and looked around for someone to be of help, but there was no one around either. I stood on my tippy toes and attempted to grab the book again. My finger tips touched the bottom of the spine when a hand came into my field of vision. Someone stood behind me and grabbed the book I wanted from the shelf.
I turned around and the owner of the mystery hand was revealed to be Benedict. He held the book out in front of me.
“I believe you wanted this book.” Benedict said.
“Yes thank you.”
I grabbed the book and our hands touched. My hand stayed there for a second too long before I pulled away, but I wish I hadn’t.
“What are you doing here?” I asked
“Looking for a book to read. We are in a bookstore after all.”
“…Right…sorry. I am looking for a book as well.”
I motioned towards the book in my hand and he read the title.
“Women in society. A great pick. My sister Eloise raved about it so much last season that I had to read it for myself. It was quite fascinating I must say.”
“I usually read books of romance and I figured I should read a book like this for a change.”
“Romance you say?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve always found romance in literature quite daft.”
“Daft?! Have you ever read a romance novel.”
“No I can’t say I have.”
“Then you have no right to say that romance in literature is daft!”
Benedict looked amused.
“What genre do you like?” I asked
“I enjoy poetry.”
“Poetry?”
“Yes what is wrong with poetry.”
“Nothing it is just that….you do not seem like the type of person to enjoy poetry.”
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me Y/n.”
Y/n. When he escorted me back to my family at last night’s ball he asked me to call him Benedict and he began to call me Y/n. He decided that it is only fitting since we are friends. I agreed to it, but only when we were alone, since I did not want people in the ton getting a wrong impression of our companionship. I guess it is okay now since we are the only ones in the bookstore at the moment.
“Well Benedict, I would love to learn more about you as time goes on.”
“I would love to learn more about you as well. Have you ever read poetry?”
“No I can’t say I have.”
“How about this. Why don’t you pick out a romance novel for myself while I pick a book of poetry for you to read. It can be a way for us to get to know each other better.”
“I would like that. Would you like to share our thoughts with one another as we go on?”
“Yes! I would like to know what you think about poetry and it would give me an excuse to see you again.” He said with a wink.
I blushed. Benedict wanted to see me again because he enjoyed my company like how I enjoy his. Our friendship has become an unexpected surprise this season and I am forever grateful.
“Now on to the poetry section.” Benedict said.
Benedict led me to the poetry section and picked out a book from the second shelf.
“This book is not like the sappy stuff that you read in your romance novels.”
“They are not always sappy!” I argue.
I take the book from him and playfully hit his head.
“Hey what was that for?!”
But he didn’t seem mad at my action. He was smiling.
“Knocking some sense into that head of yours! Now it’s my turn to pick.”
“Lead the way.”
I began to walk to the romance section and Benedict followed me. I scanned the shelves until I came across one of my favorites and it will definitely be quite a shocker for Benedict. I plucked the book from the shelf and handed it to him.
“Here you go.” I said.
“The Ancient Legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. I’ve never heard of it.”
“It is an Ancient Greek myth. My grandpa is from Greece, so he grew up with tales from Greek Mythology. He read those kind of stories to his children, my mama, aunt and uncle, and my mama read those tales to my siblings and I growing up.”
“You are Greek?”
“Yes. There are a lot of things you do not know about me Benedict.”
I repeated the same words he said to me earlier and he seemed to notice because he smiled knowingly.
“The story is a love story, but it is a tragedy and it involves real life scenarios. You will see.” I said.
“Tragedy you say. Like Romeo and Juliet?”
“Both stories may be tragedies, but Romeo and Juliet can never compare to The Ancient Legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. It is different in so many different ways.”
“Wow! You have such high praise for this book. I can’t wait to read it and I hope this will be a good read.”
“Of course it will be a good read! I would not have recommended it to you unless it was.”
“I know I’m just teasing.”
I whacked him with the book again.
“You and your teasing!” I giggled.
“Why do you keep hitting me?!” He said with laughter.
“Because it’s funny.”
“Well I’m glad you hit me repeatedly for your own amusement.” He said sarcastically.
“Oh don’t be such a baby! Let’s go purchase these books. I don’t want my mama waiting for long.”
We were walking through the aisles, on our way back to Thomas, when Benedict asked,
“Did you find out how Miss Featherington is doing?”
I told Benedict about the situation with Penelope at last night’s ball and how I wanted to reach out to her to make sure she was alright. I was surprised he remembered.
“No. I went to her house this morning, but she didn’t want any visitors.”
He nodded in understanding
“I would just give it some time.” Benedict said.
“Ah look who it is! My two favorite customers!” Thomas said as we reached the counter.
“I thought I was your only favorite customer.” I said
“I can have more than one.”
I laughed in response. I was reaching in my purse for my money to pay for my books when Benedict’s hand stopped mine.
“I’ll pay for your books.” He said
“Oh no you do not have to.”
“No I insist.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes I’m sure. Let me do something nice for my friend.”
I figured there was no point in arguing so I let him pay. He finished paying for both our books and we started to gather our things.
“Please come again. Both of you. I like talking with you two.” Thomas said.
“Do not worry I will be back.” I said with a smile.
“As will I.” Said Benedict.
Thomas looked a both of us with a smile, but it did not reach his eyes. Something was bothering him, but I could not figure out what exactly. I was about to ask, but he had already walked away.
“Did he seem off to you?” I asked Benedict.
“He did, but he might be tired. He is old after all.” Benedict said with a shrug.
“Probably.”
Benedict and I both exited the bookstore and out to the sidewalk.
“Thank you for buying my books.” I said
“It was my pleasure.”
“It was nice seeing you again. I am going to head back to my mama and sister.”
“Wait before you go. Are you going to the event Lord Trumble is having next week?”
“I believe so. I recall my mama mentioning it.”
“Good I’ll see you there!” He said with a smile.
I smiled back. “Good day Benedict.”
“Good day Y/n.”
—————————
“Do not go far!” Aunt Athena shouted.
My two cousins, Nolan and Nikolai ran away to go play near the pond.
“Noah and Alexander.” My mama said, “Can you two go after them to make sure they do not get into trouble.”
“Sure mama.” Noah said and Noah and Alexander went after Nolan and Nikolai.
My family was currently at the local park. My mama, Adeline, Aunt Athena, my cousins, Natalia and Niya, and I are all sitting at two tables under a white tent. My oldest cousin Norah was promenading with her husband that she married last season. My father, Maxwell and his father are off having a serious conversation.
“Lord Findlay seems like a nice young man dearest. Both of you seemed to get along when he was over.” My mama said. “Do you wish to pursue him?”
“No mama. He is a fine gentleman, but I do not see him that way, because he suits a friend more to me.”
“What about Lord Harvey?” Aunt Athena interjected. “He is a noble gentleman and I have heard nothing, but good things about the young boy.”
“I do not feel a connection with Lord Harvey.”
I poured myself a cup of tea to give me something to do. I know my family had good intentions, but it felt like I was being interrogated by them.
“Well then if you are not interested in Lord Findlay or Lord Harvey then who are you interested in?” My cousin Natalia asked.
I looked over to where Maxwell was standing and continued to sip my tea. My mother must have caught on because she smiled and said,
“I think Y/n has an idea on who she is interested in.” My mom grabbed my hand and squeezed it.
My Aunt Athena and my two cousins all had knowing smiles when they realized who my mom was talking about.
“If Maxwell is the one then you must make haste my dear Y/n.” Aunt Athena said. “He is a wanted Lord from both the mama’s and their daughters of the ton. You better hurry before someone steals him before you. Ah Lord Maxwell.”
I whipped my head around and Maxwell was standing in front of us. I hope he did not hear our conversation. That would be so embarrassing!
“I was wondering if I can borrow Y/n for a moment.”
“You most certainly can.” My mama said.
I rose from my seat to Maxwell and he linked our arms together.
Maxwell had to leave for a business trip with his father tomorrow, so this will be the last time I will see him in a while. I heard my Aunt’s words in my head: “If Maxwell is the one then you must make haste my dear Y/n.”. Did I really have to make haste with Maxwell? Would he be interested in someone else?
“What is going on in that head of yours?” Maxwell asked.
“Nothing. I simply want this moment to last.”
“It will when I return. Listen I know I’m going to be away for a while, but I cannot help but think that you will wait for me as long as I am gone. I will return before the season is over I assure you. I want you to know that you are an extraordinary woman and I have loved every second of getting to know you……I know you and your parents have been waiting for me to ask this question, but I wanted to make sure before asking such a question and I am. I was wondering if you would allow me to court you?”
This is exactly what my family and I wanted for me. A nice gentleman who has become interested in me enough to want to court me. This was perfect, but why did I not feel satisfied. I was overjoyed and excited, but for some reason I did not feel whole. I think it is just nerves, so I decide to brush it off.
“I would love for you to court me.” I said.
We both smiled at one another and Maxwell brought my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.
“Can we keep this a secret between us?” I asked. “I want to keep this a secret from the ton until you return. We can tell our families of course.”
“I can agree to those terms. It can be our secret.”
“Our secret” I said with a smile.
A part of me agreed that I wanted to keep our courtship a secret in order to be romantic. However, another part of me knew the truth, but I did not want to admit it. At least not now.
I looked around the park to distract myself. I took in the scenery when I noticed a familiar head of reddish auburn hair. She seemed to notice me as well because she stopped walking.
“I will be right back.” I told Maxwell.
“Alright. I have to continue my discussion with our fathers anyway.”
I nodded in understanding and he walked away. I walked back to my mama and asked,
“Can I promenade with her for a moment?”
I motioned to the girl waiting for me.
“Yes you can Y/n, but do not walk too far.”
I thanked my mama and walked my way over to Penelope. This would be the first time I will talk to her since she ran away from the ball a few days ago. The past few days I couldn’t help but worry about her. However, she did seem somewhat okay when I got a closer look at her. I couldn’t help, but notice the whispers and stares directed towards Penelope as I walked. This is what always makes me afraid of making a mistake. One misstep and the ton would see you as an outsider.
“Hello Pen.”
“Hello Y/nn.”
“How have you been?”
“Managing. This is the first time I have left my house since what happened. I am glad I ran into you.”
I went to hug her and she did the same at the same time. I missed Penelope and our friendship. I haven’t seen her in a few days.
“I am glad you are okay.” I said.
“What has been going on with you?” Penelope asked.
She linked her arm with mine and we began walking.
“I haven’t told anyone this yet and this had just happened, but Maxwell asked to court me.”
“Oh Y/nn that’s wonderful news! You don’t seem excited. Are you not excited?”
“No I am excited! It’s just that….I don’t know. I thought I would feel complete or whole. Think that this path is the right decision. But for some reason I have a feeling in my stomach that is telling me that this is wrong.”
“Maybe it is just nerves.”
“That is what I have been thinking, but I do not know.”
“It is probably just nerves, but if it is not your parents want you to marry for love. If you do not feel this way with Maxwell then they cannot make you marry him.”
“My dad did say that I did not have to marry him.”
“Exactly! So I would not worry about it too much. Some of us are not as lucky.”
I knew when Penelope was saying this she was referencing to her mother. I felt bad for everything she had to go through.
“I have something to tell you.” Penelope said.
“What is it?”
“Colin kissed me.”
I looked at Penelope in shock. Colin kissed her? Did that mean that he finally reciprocated feelings for her.
“What does this mean for the two of you?”
“Nothing. I asked him to kiss me because I wanted to be kissed at least once. I do not think I will ever find a husband and I wanted to know what it was like to be kissed. Colin was the only man I trust to do something like that and the only man who would be okay to do such a thing.”
“Do not say such things Pen. I am sure some gentleman out there will see you for the beauty that you are. Inside and out.”
“Thank you for those kind words Y/nn, but I have to be realistic. I just finished talking with Colin and we both agreed that our deal will no longer continue. Our plan backfired and it did more harm than good.”
I wanted to argue more and prove her wrong, but I didn’t want to upset Penelope, so I kept quiet.
“Was he a good kisser?” I asked.
“Y/nn!”
“What I have never been kissed and I want to know what it is like. Plus I am pretty sure you have been imagining that kiss since you were a child.”
“Well you are not wrong….Yes he was an amazing kisser. It was everything that I could have possibly imagined and better. However, I know he does not feel the same way as I, but at the same time I feel like I needed that kiss. It was a way for me to have closure and now I do.”
I nodded in understanding. I can understood Penelope’s point of view with the situation. She has been pining over Colin for years and I thought maybe he might feel the same way after the kiss. But I guess he still sees her the same way and only kissed her as a friend.
Penelope telling me about her kiss with Colin made me wonder what it will be like to be kissed. I assume I might receive my first kiss with Maxwell soon due to marriage being seen in the future. I wonder what it would be like to kiss Maxwell.
“You know Y/nn. I trust you and our friendship.”
“I would hope so.” I joked.
We both laughed.
“There is something that I have been wanting to tell you for a while and I believe that I can tell you soon. I won’t tell you now , but when it is just the two of us and when I am ready I’ll tell you.”
“Okay.”
What she said brought me back to what Eloise told me at the ball a few nights ago.
“Not everyone is the way they appear to be. Some carry secrets. I discovered that Penelope was one of them.”
Was it true that Penelope was keeping secrets? And if she was, was she going to tell me?
#bridgerton#bridgerton season 3#benedict x reader#colin x penelope#penelope featherington#benedict bridgerton#colin bridgerton#friends to lovers
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Rouxls Kaard yelling at Lancer not to disturb his evil schemes and after successfully shooing him off continues to write “Mrs. Fiona Charming” in his diary in different scripts and giggling like a teenage girl
#he doesn’t know what queen’s last name is#but it’s very important business do NOT disturb#deltarune#rouxls kaard#shitposting on my deathbed u know how it is
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Incomparable
fandom: Bridgerton
pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader
summary: you don’t fit in quite well with the rest of the ton, but you still manage to catch the eye of the Viscount
note: this is for the girlies with resting bitch face, warning this is a fem!reader as much as i prefer a gender neutral reader, the heteronormative regency society just doesn’t allow it
this was already once posted before on my since deleted blog by my same current name but has been slightly edited :)
It was only one of the first balls of many and you were already regretting your unfortunate position as a newly presented flower of the season. You never thought you had what it took to be this year’s diamond, nor its ruby, nor its pearl, or any jewel for the matter. In your eyes you didn’t have the effortless glimmer that Daphne Bridgerton had last season nor the graceful steps of this season's ingénue, Edwina Sharma.
Of course, you had prepared all your life for this moment like every upper class girl. Knowing all that you should to be presented into society. You sat through the pianoforte lessons and even tried your hand at singing (which was a terrible mistake). You learned to embroider from your mother, much to the dismay of your aching fingers which always manage to burn and go numb far too quickly for her liking. You read all the textbooks even though you much preferred novels, never understanding the point of your tutors' comments about men wanting to marry educated girls. Quickly learning as you grew older and more outspoken that gentlemen like to know a woman is well read, but hardly ever that they use that knowledge in conversation.
But somehow, even after the painstakingly long hours at the modiste getting fitted for new dresses and the even longer time you spent getting into them, none of it was enough. Not the lessons, not the newly dropped hem, not the hours of sitting for your hair to be expertly styled and bejeweled by the finest gems your family had to offer. Still every other lady and her mama have had to comment on how you are so far from even the realm of possibly being considered a diamond. You heard their whispers through the silk and lace of their folding fans as clear as the night.
‘They barely graced the Queen with a smile,”
‘They’ll definitely grow to be a spinster with that face,’
Oh, but this wasn’t only from the women, of course not, they just have the decency to try and say this behind your back. You are well aware of how men love to grace you with their opinion, despite you caring very little for it. They always have the audacity to say these things straight to your somber face as if it would do you any good.
‘You know, you would be slightly prettier if you smiled,’
‘If you would smile, you would seem much more amiable,’
and most recently,
“I am sure more gentlemen would ask for a dance if you didn’t look so miserable, my Lady,”
You had been approached by a well-respected gentlemen named Mr. Hastings when you had escaped your mother’s disapproving clutches to find solace at the refreshments table. Drinking lemonade desperately wishing it were wine. He asked you to dance. Much to your misfortune you couldn’t fain a full dance card as the one clutched in your gloved hand was mockingly empty. This left you enduring a dreadfully boring conversation about his horse, how much it had cost him, how much it is actually worth, and just how incredible this horse was. You quite frankly wished to be anywhere else. As would anyone else you’re sure, but while they may have hid that behind a polite smile you showed your boredom evidently in your downturned lips.
But what would be the point in hiding it? You were tired of the facade that enwrapped these balls and society. Everyone was smiling, but was anyone truly happy? Even then who is happy and just goes around smiling like some loon. You were having a terrible time parading around the room with your mother’s stern grip on your arm showcasing you like a piece of meat, or a show pony— or to be terribly on the nose, Mr. Hastings prized horse.
Then once you had finally escaped her and found peace hoping to blend in to the wallpaper, you have been made to endure small talk and dance with a man you had little interest in. All while he made you listen to his horrendously dull conversation and he had the nerve to ask— no, to want you to not look miserable. This man who looked like molding swiss cheese and only spoke of his horse.
“I beg you pardon, sir?”
“That you look as if you are attending a funeral, my lady,” he says as he spins you following the choreography of the dance, “It is only polite that you smile as we dance.”
His own obviously fake smile is painted across his face, all thin lips and no teeth as he eyes you expectantly waiting for you to obediently heed his suggestion—or more likely it was a sort of social command. Polite society would have deemed you to be all smiles and perfect wit, to ease yourself out of this treacherous conversation you were wormed into with a poised grace or give in to his orders with a sickly sweet smile because it would be rude not to, no?
But no, indeed. You were not going to give in. No matter how many whispered or backhanded compliments you received only on your first night into society. You had seen how your female cousins and older friends had broken their backs to bend to the whims of society. Left behind forgotten ideals to suit their new suitors to get the ring and the wedding that would never even scratch at their fanciful girlish dreams of prince charmings and knights in shining armor. You would not let society break you.
“Well, I would smile if I was having a nice time. Maybe if you said something funny I would laugh or if the conversation was pleasant,” you had stopped dancing now, tired of this day and all the niceties and manners you were to follow.
You stood before him with your jaw clenched and your brows furrowed absolutely seething, “But you are far from pleasant. All you do, sir, is speak of your race horse and how much it is worth to you. If you care so much about your horse, I wonder why you ever wish to marry when all your attention seems to be going to your insipid horse!”
“Why you rude, intolerable girl—”
You didn’t care any more about the staring eyes of the ton or the gasps from appalled mamas. You would have welcomed all of Mr. Hastings angry words to at least hear something real for the first time all day. But instead he is cut short as the figure of a man approaches your side.
“I beg your pardon Mr. Hastings. How dare you raise your voice to a lady, have you no honor or decorum?”
Viscount Anthony Bridgerton stood before the two of you. Chin tilted upwards and shoulders set back in an unspoken challenge with the less titled man in front of you.
His question goes unanswered, but he continues nodding to you, “I believe the Lady makes a very agreeable point, sir. You speak entirely of your horse and nothing else, this would bore any with a brain in the ton.”
You almost would have laughed if you weren’t so shocked. What exactly was the Viscount doing? You hardly ever spoke other than short introductions and nods exchanged while you were in the company of his sister and your friend, Eloise.
But there was not a moment to think on this further as the scene that was forming around you was all too captivating. Mr. Hastings, who it should be mentioned once more felt so prideful of his horse, can be seen visibly shrinking shoulder hunching forward slumping as if he were a little boy who lost a game. He clears his throat, “Well then, I shall take my conversation elsewhere.”
Before he could turn to leave the eldest Bridgerton son stops him, “Sir, you have forgotten to apologize to the Lady,”
Mr. Hasting freezes in his place turning to eye the man and you bite your lip fighting the laugh that threatens to erupt at the odious man whose eyes widen and mouth becomes agape like a fish out of water.
“My apologies,” the words seem to clog at his throat and so he says nothing else. Nodding, “Lord Bridgerton...” and your name before meekly making his way through the crowd, his head down avoiding the gazes of the onlookers.
At this point most of the ton had gone back to their conversations around you, though there were still some lingering eyes as the dance floor had been oddly shaped as you and the Viscount remained standing in part of the appointed area. Anthony notices this and leads you further into the crowd.
Once he finds an agreeable spot he stops turning towards you, “I actually do wish to counter your statement, my lady,” he begins. You expect for a moment to be met with some stern lecture from a man who seems to think he’s entitled to an opinion of you as if he were your father (who you also do not think should have an opinion, but alas it is only 1814). Anthony surprises you however as instead he grins and says, “I actually believe Mr. Hastings would marry his horse if the Queen would allow it.”
And you couldn’t help but laugh, despite all your pride and pettiness to not grace this event or anyone in it with any pleasurable countenance. You laughed loudly tilting your head back, jeweled neck on display even letting out a small snort against your will. When you finally compose yourself, giggles dying down at the thought of Mr. Hastings in a horrid muddy green suit with a horse in a wedding dress, you can’t fight the smile that falls on your lips. Although unnatural to you, the light hearted joke and your vivid imagination make it easy. It lasts for a few seconds before you become very conscious of it as you let your lips fall back to their usual place.
Though if anyone was truly looking for it— which Anthony was— they would see the slight quirk in your lips as you told the Viscount, “It looks like you’ve gained the honor of making me laugh, Mr. Bridgerton.”
“I relish the title, my lady,” he says and you can tell he does from the smile that meets his ears, all teeth and pushed back cheeks. You acknowledge that this might be the realest encounter you have had since your debut. Anthony Bridgerton smiling from ear to ear was a sight to see.
He continues, “But I do have to disagree with the comments I have been hearing tonight. Smile or no smile you present the ladies looking to wed this season with quite the competition.”
“Me? Hardly, did you not hear my Lord, my countenance would never get me a marriage proposal,” you say fiddling with the hem of your gloves at your wrist.
“I would disagree, I think any reasonable man in attendance would be foolish to not see how incomparable you are, my lady.”
Incomparable.
You fight it like you had once your laugh, but you feel the heat spread to your cheeks and the nerves that begin to twist in your stomach. You didn’t need it, but the compliment was well appreciated after a night such as this one.
Giving you no time to compose the fluttering in your chest, Anthony adds, “Any lady who manages to be bold enough to tell Mr. Hasting how insufferable his horse talk is, ranks high in my book.”
“Well you might be the only one, sir,” you try to be as brave as you feel and dare to smile at him, but his gaze causes you to look away bashfully. That is when you notice your mother approaching and wishing not to make a fool in front of the Viscount you excuse yourself, “I do believe my mother has just been informed of the scene I have caused, so if you’ll excuse me.”
But before you can turn to go he calls out your name placing his warm bare hand on your own gloved fingers making you turn back to him.
“Would you save me a dance?”
And despite yourself, Anthony Bridgerton manages again to make you smile, “Of course”.
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#. . . Five times Max refuses to acknowledge he’s sick + one time he does.
request made by @lucien-calore. . . “hi, you asked for a max request and i shall deliver! can i please have a sickfic where max refuses to acknowledge he's sick (a flu or something, nothing too serious) but when he does, he acts like a drama queen?”
#1
You’re making dinner when you hear Max coughing from his streaming room, then the laughs of his friends making fun of him.
You don’t think too much about it. That is until he can’t stop coughing while you’re eating, and when you’re getting ready for bed, and at all during the night.
It’s only in the morning, as you’re making breakfast and he’s feeding the cats, when you decide to say something.
“Baby?” You say, trying to look nonchalant while making the eggs.
“Yes?” He puts the cat food away and makes his way to you. Max hugs your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “What happens?”
“I’m gonna go to the pharmacy after pilates, do you need anything?”
Max hums, like actually thinking about it before saying, “No, love. Got everything I need.”
“You sure? Nothing for that cough you have?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He kisses your cheek and pulls away, grabbing an apple. “I’m gonna be streaming, make sure to say goodbye before you leave, okay?”
#2
“Are you okay?” It’s the fourth time in less than an hour that Max enters the kitchen to fill his bottle of water.
“Yeah, it’s just that all the singing and screaming at the concert last night left me with a sore throat.”
You try not to laugh but it’s impossible. It’s been three days since he started with that horrible cough, which hasn’t stopped, but he still doesn’t understand that he’s probably sick.
“Max, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t that.” You close the book and get up from the couch, he looks confused as you get closer and place your hand on his forehead. “Jesus, Max, you’re burning up!”
“I’m hot, don’t you think?”
“Max, I’m serious, you got a fever.”
“It’s probably nothing,” He reassures you by placing a kiss on your cheek before turning around. “I fell asleep on the terrace. I’m gonna take a shower, okay?”
“Max, I swear to God—”
“You look hot when you’re angry.” That’s the last thing he says, walking away.
“Max!”
#3
It's impossible. You’ve tried everything to make Max understand that he’s sick and needs to rest, but he won’t admit it.
This morning you practically begged him to stay in bed to rest and recover, but he did not listen to you, saying that it was nothing — as he’s been saying all week — and actually dragged you to the Padel court because ‘I’m gonna win this time’.
Dani’s visiting, so, everyone got together to spend Sunday morning at their favorite place, promising to go to brunch after. But it’s been three hours and they have just finished the second game. Who’s fault is that? Max’s.
It’s no secret that Max is not very good at Padel, but now that he’s sick it’s been torture. Every couple of minutes they have to stop the game for him to cough, so it’s been impossible to actually play and he doesn’t want to give up.
And it’s worse because Charles is his partner. Only a look at the Monégasque and you know he wants to murder him.
“Max,” You call his name, leaving your book aside and walking closer to the wall that’s separating both of you. “you’re sick, why don’t we go home?”
“But, baby, I really think I can win this one.”
“No you won’t!” Lando shouts from across the court as he’s stretching.
“Oh shut u—”
“Max, I’m serious.” You don’t know what else to do at this point. He’s always been so stubborn, but this has reached new levels.
“I’m gonna win this for you, baby.” He winks and turns around to join the rest of the group.
#4
“Max? Why are you still in bed?” You enter the room, gaze immediately going to the watch on the nightstand. It’s two in the afternoon. He never stays in bed past ten, not even during winter or summer break.
“Jus’ tired.” He mumbles, face hidden in the pillows.
“I’m gonna make you a cup of tea, okay?” You sit next to him, stroking his hair.
“Don’t want a cup of tea,” He opens his eyes, looking up at you and pouting. It makes you giggle. “I want you.”
“I won’t kiss you until you admit you’re sick.”
“That’s so unfair!” He pouts again, this time grabbing your arm and trying to make you lie next to him. “I’m not sick. I’m like super healthy.” You snort, shaking your head and standing up.
“Then, no kisses for you.”
Max groans, hiding his face under the blankets. “I can survive without your kisses, you know.”
That makes you laugh because you know Max, and you know how much he likes to kiss you at every opportunity. The chances of Max keeping that promise… Impossible.
“Whatever gets you through the night, Maxie.”
#5
“Hey, baby.” Max places a kiss on your cheek as you leave the grocery bags on the kitchen table. “You got everything for tonight?”
“Yes. I already talked with your mom and they’ll be here at around nine.” Max helps you put the groceries away, frowning when he sees some medicine and a special broth he knows perfectly well among the things you will need for dinner tonight.
“What's this?”
You try to hide a smile, pretending to be busy with anything just to keep you from looking at him. “Your mom said you used to love it as a kid.”
“Yeah,” He says, still confused. “when I was sick.”
“You are sick, Max. I don’t know how many times I need to tell you this.”
“I am not!” He huffs, rolling his eyes. You can see from the irritated expression on his face that he's tired of you repeating the same thing over and over again. “I’m gonna go play for a little bit.”
You grab his hand before he can walk away, pulling him closer to you. “Hey,” Max raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to talk. But you cup his cheeks instead, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m worried, I don’t want you to get worse.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
You can only watch as he leaves the room, Jimmy following closely behind.
“Well, I tried.” You mumble, looking at Sassy perched on the counter. She meows and you’re glad at least someone understands you.
+1
“Schatje?” You hear Max’s hoarse voice say.
“Mmh?” It’s your answer, busy peeling some vegetables. “What happens?”
He hesitates for a second, you see from the corner of your eyes how he avoids looking at you, which makes you stop and turn your attention to your boyfriend.
“I’m sick.” He whispers, surprising you. But he deserves a little teasing.
“What? I didn’t hear you.” You play dumb, and Max sees right through you.
“You were right, okay? I was being an idiot.”
“Yes, you were.” He pouts, making you feel warm all over. You walk to him, placing your hand on his forehead. “You have a fever. Why don’t you go lie down on the couch, uh? I’ll heat up the broth.”
“I’m sorry for being an idiot.” He breathes into the air, blushing all the way from his cheeks to his neck. You know that admitting when he’s wrong is not something easy for him.
“I know, baby. But,” You reach up and boop Max on the nose with your index finger. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”
“But I wanted to help you, everyone’s about to arrive.”
“Worry about what your mom will say once I tell her how stubborn you have been.” He sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. “If you’re a good boy and take the medicine, I’ll think about giving you a… reward.”
If Max takes the medicine and finishes all the broth is only because he wants to get better. It has nothing to do with the reward you’re going to give him tonight.
#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#f1 imagine#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#f1 grid x reader
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Baby Mama Drama(jjk x reader)
Pairing: BabyDaddy!Jeon Jungkook x BabyMama!Female!Reader
Word Count: 3.2K+
Warnings: reader and Jungkook coparent, they have a daughter who is mentioned but doesn’t appear in the story, reader and Jungkook technically aren’t together but they still love each other and fool around🥴, reader irritates the hell out of JK but he can’t stay mad at them, reader is definitely a little toxic, Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), oral(m and f receiving), 69 position, the sloppiest of top, face riding, fingering, reverse cowgirl, reader rides like a pro, missionary, reader has a tattoo🤭, reader is also dragging that wagon, reader also also has that certified WAP, reader is flexible, squirting, unprotected s*x(don’t do this and then turn into this couple), creampie, dirty talk, one face slap, multiple ass slaps like seriously JK is obsessed with reader’s badonk a donk, a little degradation and a dash of dumbification
A/N: I’M BACK EVERYONE!🥳for anyone who didn’t read my last post, my tumblr was suspended for a little while so that’s why I wasn’t posting. Anyway, it’s over so I’m back to work. This is a piece inspired by @joonberriess and their Sleazy!JK storyline. Shoutout to them. I love everything about the way they write JK and reader so definitely check them out if you haven’t already! Their stories make me want a sleazy baby daddy who can’t leave me the hell alone but I know I’ll never be able to handle that in real life so fictional is good enough for me!🤣this fic is just kind of a reverse of theirs where I made reader a sleazy and jealous baby mama. I know this kind of behavior is a stereotype among the black community but I am in no way condoning it. It’s just fiction and meant to be entertaining. Anyway, please let me know what you guys think as I am always open to criticism and please look forward to my upcoming posts! Much love and thanks for reading 🤎🤎🤎
~
“So, do you have any kids?”
Taking a sip of his drink, Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, one. A daughter. You?”
“Two. Their father is an absolute nightmare though. Thank goodness we have a court order. I can’t even be in the same room as him without wanting to pull all my hair out.” She bitterly laughed with a shake off her head, tossing the rest of her drink back. “What about you? Is your child’s mother a monster?”
Jungkook titled his head, a strained chuckle leaving him. “Um, well she’s…..something.”
The woman hummed. “I get it. A real bitch, huh? I hate women like that. Ones who can’t let their baby daddy’s go and are somehow always around. So annoying. Like don’t you have something better to do?”
“Yeah and I do it 4 times a week in my Queen sized bed.”
Jungkook stiffened at the sound of that familiar voice. There was only one person he knew that spoke that crassly to strangers.
The scent of your perfume and the smell of the mousse you used on your braids invaded his space and solidified that shit was about to go downhill.
The woman, who’s name he don’t think he ever caught, made a noise of surprise once you appeared before her. Your body stood right between her and Jungkook, forcing her to step back a little. Arms crossed over your chest and hip cocked out to the side, your eyes roamed up and down this woman’s body in a scrutinizing manner.
“And who are you?”
Leaning back a little, you plopped yourself right on Jungkook’s lap.
Looking her up and down once more, you answered simply with a big smile, “I’m unimpressed. Nice to meet you.”
Ignoring you for a moment, the woman looked around you to make eye contact with Jungkook who was shooting her a look that screamed, “please walk away!” She didn’t really understand what was going on. Who were you and why did you walk into their conversation on 10 like that? It was one thing to interrupt a conversation but to be that disrespectful to someone you didn’t even know? That didn’t go down well in her book.
Copying your previous stance, the woman replied, “Well I’m unimpressed with your attitude. Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners?”
“No but she taught me to how to wrap a bitch’s hair around my wrist and keep swinging until my arm gets tired.” Your smile was sugary sweet but your words cut deep like knives. The woman was stunned. No one has ever spoken to her this way and it was a rude awakening. She didn’t even know how to respond.
Not wanting to see you demonstrate your mother’s teachings, Jungkook quickly stood to his feet. “Well, we should really be going. It was nice meeting you. Let’s go.” He grabbed your arms to start pushing you away from the woman.
“No it wasn’t!” You called out, both of you leaving the shocked woman by herself.
Once you two had made it outside, Jungkook’s frustration boiled over.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Why is it everytime I meet someone, you show up and scare them off? We aren’t together anymore. Is it not getting through your head? Like what the hell-“
His rant was flying right over your head because all you could focus on was how unbelievably sexy he looked today. How dare he walk outside like that? And he was going to waste all of that on some random stranger in a bar? Yeah right. Not as long as you had a say about it.
Your greedy eyes trailed from the top of his head to those bulging veins in his neck and down to his soft cock that was pressing against his jeans. Whew, just imaging that monster had your panties sticking to you. It was so big and warm and when he was giving you back shots…..
“Are you listening to me?”
You blinked a few times, your eyes slowing raising until they met the searing glare of your baby daddy.
“Uh yeah. Something about airline prices. So what are you doing tonight?”
Jungkook couldn’t fucking believe you. God you pissed him off to no end but he always had a way of letting off some steam.
“Let’s go. Now.”
“Yes sir.” You purred with that mischievous glint in your eye. Jungkook’s own eye twitched at the implications behind your tone but he decided to ignore it in favor of turning around to begin walking to his car, you hot on his heels and a Cheshire like grin on your face because you were getting what you wanted.
The drive back to his place was quiet, as was the ride up the elevator and the living room as he moved to sit down. He didn’t even raise his eyes to look at you once since you got in the car. Although you could see right through his petty act.
Flopping down on the couch next to him, your head leaning against your hand, you said, “come on, baby. You’re not still mad at me, are you? I said I’m sorry.”
No answer.
Moving closer to him, your hand trailed over his chest and up to his face to turn his head to face you, lips just centimeters apart. This wouldn’t be the first time you were on the receiving end of his heated glare and it certainly wouldn’t be the last but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.
“What do I have to say for you to forgive me? I hate when you’re mad at me, baby.”
“Then stop doing shit that pisses me off and I won’t be.” He fired back, that low tone of his sending shocks down your spine.
“I’m sorry. Now let me make it up to you.” He could pick up on that sultry voice anywhere and those bedroom eyes you were currently shooting him was a dead giveaway as well.
He rolled his eyes. “You need to stop expecting dick everytime you come over here. It’s not gonna fix anything.”
Gasping dramatically, you moved back a little to hold a hand to your chest in faux offense. “You wound me, tater tot. I came here with pure intentions to apologize to you. Can a woman not apologize to her baby daddy without him thinking she has an ulterior motive?”
An unimpressed look crossed Jungkook’s face from your dramatics and from that stupid pet name you gave him all those years ago.
“Whatever.” He mumbled. “Fine. I accept your apology. Just don’t do it again.” A warning that fell on deaf ears because yeah, you’d definitely do it again if needed but for now, you’d bask in his forgiveness.
“Thank you, baby. You know I only want to make you happy.”
“You do,” he whispered, those doe eyes lifting to connect with yours.
Your lips met, your hands pushing Jungkook back against the arm of the couch to climb into his lap. He went willingly, melting into your touch and the feeling of your plump lips. His own hands traveled up your thighs to squeeze at the plushness of your ass, his grip forcing your covered cunt to rub against his growing erection.
His grunts mixed with your low hum of pleasure as you grinded against one another but Jungkook could only tolerate about a minute of that before he started getting impatient.
Groaning against your lips, he struggled out a, “fuck. Sit it on already.”
The sounds of your giggles made him pause, eyes cracking open and his eyebrow raising because what the hell was so funny?
“Oh nothing.” You said as if reading his mind. “I just remember a very certain someone saying not to expect dick everytime I come here yet that same person is telling me to sit on his dick. How the tables have turned.”
Rolling his eyes yet again, Jungkook suddenly heaved himself up, forcing you backwards. Your giggles increased, the contagion of your amusement finally breaking him and stretching a full blown smile across his face.
“You’re so goofy.”
“Then do something about it, Mickey.”
In a show of strength that turned your panties from a pool into a water park, Jungkook heaved you over his shoulder, hand coming down on the fat of your ass.
“I’ll do something about it alright.”
Once you made it to the bedroom, Jungkook tossed you down onto the bed and was about to climb on top of you but you were a little quicker. Grabbing his arm, you pulled him down until he was flat on his back with you straddling his waist—his hard cock pressed right against your clothed cunt, just waiting to be released.
Leaning down, you captured him in another kiss while he captured your ass in his grip.
“Damn I love this ass….” He murmured into your lip lock which made you giggle.
After deeming him throughly kissed, you sat up to take in his flushed face and reddened lips. Perfect.
“Forgive me yet?”
He hummed, fingers playing with the hem of your top. “Maybe after you take this off.”
Ever so compliant, you gripped both sides of your shirt and pulled it over your head to reveal your bare breasts to Jungkook. His eyes could have popped out of his head, the groan he let out a mixture of arousal and slight irritation.
“You’re not wearing a bra?”
Shrugging one shoulder, you simply answered, “I knew I was coming here. What’s the point? Do you want to know if I’m wearing underwear?” That cheeky smile answered the question for him and it only sunk him further into the already unhealthy infatuation he had with you.
Gripping your ass, he roughly grinded your cunt down on his erection. The friction made both of you gasp, the air starting to feel electric as desperation began eating at both of you.
It didn’t take long for both of you to undress each other. Jungkook helped you wiggle out of those tiny shorts you wore, letting out a curse as a little drip of sticky arousal snapped back against your inner thigh. Sitting up, he grabbed the back of his shirt to pull it over his head and toss it somewhere in the room. Now you could feast your eyes on the hard planes of his body and trace your fingers those intricate tattoos that marked up his skin.
Leaning down once again, you trailed kisses from that sweet spot on his neck, down his chest and over his abs until you reached your destination. Your eyes never left his as you began your descent, hands tugging at the waistband of his jeans to pull them down and Jungkook helped kick them off. You licked your lips at the sight of Jungkook’s hard cock slapping against his abs once you freed it from the confines of his pants . He could see that hungry look in your eye, smirking as he took hold of his erection and began lightly pumping it; a motion that drove you fucking crazy was watching him stroke himself. It just did something to you.
“You want it, bug?” He teased to which you nodded frantically.
“Yes, baby. Give it to me.” Opening your mouth, you held your tongue out to lick at it, Jungkook hissing at the contact. He slapped it against your wet muscle a few times before letting the tip slip in your mouth. You immediately wrapped your lips around it, suckling at it like a desperate whore. Which you were but only for him. No one else could make you act like this.
You replaced his hand with your own, licking and spitting all over his cock to lubricate it. Taking him down your throat, you began bobbing your head up and down, making sure to twist your wrist just the way he liked it.
Jungkook let out a series of low moans, curses, and the tiniest of whines everytime you went down. One hand gripped at the ponytail you put your braids up in and one hand behind his head, he let you take the lead. You knew just how he liked it, just the way to flick your wrist and tighten your throat to throw him over the edge in minutes.
Coming off him with a wet cough, you continued to stroke his cock, your spit soaking your own hand but that only helped the glide. Your hazy and hungry eyes stared right into his, your chin and mouth soaked in saliva. “I love this cock so fucking much.” You gasped before taking it back down your throat and bobbing your head.
Tossing his head back, Jungkook let out a strangled moan, forcing your head down. You let him, of course, relaxing your throat so he could fuck up into your mouth.
“Come sit on my face, baby. Right fucking now.” He demanded.
Pulling off him a little, you maneuvered your body until your pussy was right over his face—69 style. He gripped both of your ass cheeks in his palms, pulling you down until he could suck your neglected clit into his mouth.
You let out a sharp gasp around his cock, finally getting some type of relief. Sucking his cock made you a different type of horny and he could see that with the way your cunt was dripping.
His mouth and tongue started going crazy, ravenous as he alternated between sucking and licking, making sure to dip his tongue in your opening every once in a while. His hands continued to slap and grip at your ass, one wandering sometimes to pull your slippery lips apart so he could really get in there.
His hand trailed down from your ass to your tight opening, squeezing a finger into your spasming walls. He located that sweet spot with practiced ease, slipping in another finger in beside it and stretching your snug cunt open. The squelching of your walls was like music to his ears, adding to the salacious ‘gluck gluck’ noises your throat was making as you swallowed his cock.
Since you were horny on your way here, it didn’t take long for that feeling to start burning hot in your belly.
You pulled off his cock but continued to stroke him, your cheek resting against his thigh as high pitched moans left your lips.
Jungkook flattened his tongue, his grip on your ass guiding you to rut against his face. The fat of your ass almost suffocated him but Jungkook couldn’t imagine going out any other way. He hooked his fingers right into your gspot, your eyes rolling back and head hanging low as you used him for your pleasure.
“Oh yes! Oh yes, daddy! You’re gonna make me cum!” Lifting your head, you took his cock back into your mouth, burying it all the way to the hilt in your throat. Jungkook’s hips jumped, him groaning against your clit, the vibrations sending shocks right through you.
A few swallows around his cock and a few more jabs to that spot inside of you and both of you were cumming. Your body tensed, hips rutting faster against his face to ride it out. He thrusted his hips up once, twice, three times before letting out a drawn out moan as he pumped his release down your waiting throat. Your body shivered as buzzing pleasure raced down your back and to your toes. You don’t think you’ve had an orgasm like that since…….three days ago when Jungkook ate you out in his car after he had to pick you up because you forgot to get gas.
Amazing car head aside, the party wasn’t over yet.
“Sit on it, bug. Hurry.” Jungkook rushed you, tapping your ass a few times, his breath labored and tone dripping with desperation.
Good thing you were just as eager because you crawled forward on your weak knees until he was lined up with your entrance. Reaching between your legs, you held his wet cock steady as you slid down on it. Jungkook’s hands held your ass cheeks apart to watch, eyes blurring slightly as your hot, tight, and gushing walls wrapped around him. You weren’t faring much better, your head knocking back as his thick cock stretched you to your limits. It didn’t matter how many times you had taken his cock, the pure g i r t h always knocked the breath out of you. This is why you couldn’t leave him alone, his cock was just too fucking good. You’d be damned if you ever let someone else take it from you.
Once you were settled to the hilt, your body leaned all the way forward to rest between his legs and you began bouncing your ass on his cock.
Jungkook was mesmerized by how your fat ass rippled and moved against his pelvis. At this moment, he didn’t give a damn how many women you threatened or how much you pissed him off; just the sight of your ass and the feeling of your juicy cunt wrapped around him was enough to make him remember another reason why he couldn’t let you the hell go. He loved your pussy too much. And if that wasn’t enough, the sight of that tiny ‘♡JK’ tatted on your left ass cheek certainly let him know.
Jungkook’s hands came down to slap repeatedly on your bouncing ass. “Faster baby. Fuck, this ass is so good!” The seat of your ass was wet from a combination of spit and cum, the wet slapping noises filling the space. Your moans were in competition with the clapping of your ass, your cheek pressed against the sheets and your nails digging into his calves.
“Ahhh! This cock is so b-big,” you whine, “love it so much…..right there….! Oohhhh-ohhhh fuck!”
Lifting up a little and adjusting your knees to a better position, you began throwing yourself down on his cock, the head brushing against every spot you had and sending you reeling. You’d come all the way up until just the tip was inside before slamming back down, the bed shaking underneath the force. Jungkook’s toes curled, your cunt gripping him tighter than a vice.
He was about 98% sure his soul left his body, eyes rolling and head knocking back against the pillows as his lungs struggled for air.
Not able to hold it anymore, Jungkook was quickly flipping your positions. Now it was your turn to be on your back, your legs spread in a wide V shape, his cologne invading your senses and his lips covering yours. He was everywhere, all over you. Your skin was on fire from his touch, sweat soaking your back and air becoming sparse as he kissed away what little oxygen you had left. You were obsessed with him. He was yours as you were his. Nothing would ever change that.
His cock buried itself back into your walls, a deep moan of pleasure getting caught in your throat once he began jackhammering into you. Your hands gripped the bottom of your feet, keeping them apart so he could continue to plow into your soft spot. His hips moved like a well oiled machine, making noisy contact with your ass with every thrust.
Your mouth dropped open, “oh my…..fffucking g-god…!” Tears welled up in your eyes as blinding pleasure spread over every nerve in your body.
Jungkook grunted, his own pleasure peaking at the sight of your fucked out face.
“Yeah? You about to cum? Are you gonna what the fuck I say and stop acting so fucking jealous? Huh?” Drool dripped down the sides of your mouth as you tried to form sentences but hurried ‘yes yes yes’ were the only words you could manage. “How many times do I have to fuck you before you get that through your thick head? I only want you. Fuck you push my fucking buttons but I know it’s just because you want me to fill up this tight cunt, isn’t that right?” A slap came across your cheek, orgasm crashing into your body without warning from the sudden strike.
Jungkook could feel wetness soaking his pelvis and cock, jaw tightening as he began moving even harder—the headboard knocking into the wall so hard that he doesn’t think he’ll get his security deposit back for this place.
“Juicy fucking cunt squirting all over me. Mhmmmm….I’m gonna fill this pussy up. You want that? Want me to send you home with my cum running down your legs?”
Your ears were ringing, his dirty talk propelling you right into another endless orgasm, your toes curling in the air as blissful overstimulation began to take over.
Jungkook wasn’t far behind, a few more thrusts and he was burying himself deep in your sopping cunt. His cock throbbed inside you, the thickness pressing right into your abused gspot. Your hands released your feet to scramble against his back, sharp acrylics digging into his skin and making him hiss in slight pain.
“Ohhhhhh shittttttt….fuck baby,” He groaned out as he pumped creamy ropes inside your clenching pussy, your spasming walls sucking him in and milking him for everything he was worth.
Both of you collapsed from exhaustion, Jungkook’s face planting itself in your breasts and your legs falling weakly to the bed with a light thump. Only the sounds of your heavy breathing filled the room, both of your hearts beating wildly as you two came down.
~
“So am I forgiven?” You asked as you two soaked in the tub, the scent of an apple scented bath bomb wafting around the room.
Jungkook was behind you, head leaned back against the wall as he tried not to fall asleep. “I guess so. Just stop doing that, okay? It’s so embarrassing.”
“Deal.”
A beat of silence washed over the room, just the sound of water lapping against the sides of the tub filling the space.
“One more time.” You suddenly said.
“Huh?”
“You asked me how many times do you have to fuck me before I get it through my thick head to stop being jealous. I think one more will do the trick.”
Jungkook let out a chuckle, opening his eyes only to find your beautiful irises staring back at him with that playful and lustful glint.
“You’re impossible.” He scoffed with an endearing shake of his head.
“But you love me.”
“Yeah, I do.”
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ᡣ𐭩 YOUNG GOD
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: after an agonizing two weeks, dazai finally returns to you and a much needed conversation takes place. {wordcount: 11.6k; fem!reader, sfw, romance}
AUTHOR'S NOTES: WOW I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE AT INSTALLMENT 5 ALREADY!!! this is so bittersweet i'm literally about to cry, i hope you guys have enjoyed badlands and i hope y'all join me for unreal unearth next week!! i got to add one of my favorite quotes in this chapter hehe you guys get extra points if you spot it. reblogs definitely appreciated!! i’ll reblog with the taglist as soon as it decides to show on the dash & in the tags!
WARNINGS: explicit mentions of past suicide attempts + past self harm & scars
SEE: BADLANDS SERIES MASTERLIST
READ: UNREAL UNEARTH SIDE B
Dazai is exhausted. His ears ring and his bones ache, his feet are unsteady beneath him and his body pleads for him to rest. Around him, the other members of the Agency are ecstatic, he thinks he’s gotten more hugs in the past hour than he’s gotten in his entire life. A part of him feels warm—he feels like he belongs, and his place in the Agency has always been one that he’s questioned. On bad nights, he used to think that the last place he truly belonged was on one of those three bar stools all those years ago, that being a member of the Agency—more than just in name, actually being a member—was nothing but an unattainable dream, because how could he possibly belong amongst people who are so unfailingly good that it makes his tainted heart stick out like a sore thumb?
But now, Atsushi cries in relief at the sight of him and Yosano wraps him in a hug so tight that his already brittle bones threaten to snap; Kunikida’s throat spasms as he squeezes Dazai’s shoulder and Kenji and Kyouka throw themselves into his arms. Naomi and Haruno cling to his hands, while Tanizaki tears up in front of him with balled fists as he tells him that he’s missed him. Ranpo shoots him a wild grin and a salute and Fukuzawa pats the top of his head telling Dazai that he’s proud of him, and Dazai thinks he might cry because he feels like he’s finally found a home.
An incomplete home, but a home nonetheless.
Because even as he recounts his side of the story, watching hazily as Kunikida writes it all down, his mind is barely connected to his own body. His body feels prickly and his mind is muddled with fatigue, his brain throbs so painfully that he thinks he might actually be dying. He’s overwhelmed and anxious—the strain that the constant games of misdirection and manipulations with Dostoevsky has placed on him is finally becoming too much for him to handle. He’s on the verge of collapse and he needs to be somewhere he feels safe before that happens, and there’s only one place—one person—that fits that criteria.
You.
He doesn’t even register what’s happening as Kunikida, Yosano and Atsushi help Dazai out of the office and into the back of Kunikida’s car. Atsushi sits with him in the back seat as Kunikida and Yosano take the front—they’re driving him somewhere, but Dazai isn’t even entirely sure where, and his tongue feels too heavy in his mouth for him to even ask. Atsushi is talking to him, he might even be telling Dazai where they’re going but the words sound like a distant hum and as he tries to read the boy’s lips, it all just seems blurry and unfocused.
He doesn’t even know if you’re okay.
Queen captured.
The words ring in his head over and over again as they have since the moment Dostoevsky uttered them aloud, but he doesn’t know what Dostoevsky’s capture of you entailed. He doesn’t know if you were killed. You could have been killed. If Dostoevsky had a lover, a weakness that Dazai could target, then they would have been the first person that Dazai aimed to take out to throw the Russian off of his game, and he would show no mercy. You could be dead, for all he knows; no one in the Agency had mentioned whether or not they knew if you were okay, or if they had, Dazai hadn’t heard it.
You could be dead.
Dazai’s vision spins again, his stomach lurches as Kunikida takes a turn too wide—he can’t keep himself grounded no matter how hard he tries. He wants to tell Kunikida that he needs to see you, he needs to get to your apartment complex and make sure you’re there, and if you’re not, he needs to talk to your neighbors and make sure you’re at least okay. Until he does that, he can’t rest, no matter how much his body begs him to give in.
He loves you. He’s sure of it now. He knew it before he left you two weeks ago. He thinks he might have known it all the way back then on the night you rescued him at the shore, when you woke up in the middle of the night and sat with him on the couch after making him hot chocolate. He thinks he fell in love with the bright smile that lifted to your lips when he took a sip of the drink you made him and you realized he enjoyed it—no one has ever looked so happy to see him happy with something before, no one has ever cared enough about him for that.
He is so completely and irrevocably in love with you that Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to live in a world without you. The thought alone makes his skin crawl and his chest cave in. Before he met you, he had long accepted that he was destined to be alone, that he wasn’t a human but instead a thing caught between monster and man—he had accepted that he was incapable of loving, and even more so, that he was incapable of being loved.
You had changed his perspective on everything, you had changed it so absolutely that Dazai doesn’t think there’s any going back to how he once viewed the world, how he once viewed himself. He’s started looking forward to sunrises, if it means he could watch them with you. He’s found himself looking around Yokohama and seeing places to take you rather than scouting out places for possible attempts. God, he’s even saving his money—Dazai Osamu has never saved money in his life because he hoped that each day would hopefully be his last. He’s blow it on alcohol and food and stupid trinkets that he didn’t need, but now, he’s caught himself putting aside some of his paychecks so he can save up for a nicer apartment that the two of you can live in together.
Dazai thinks that he can’t breathe, his throat feels swollen and he brings one of his hands up to tug at the collar of the white sweatshirt he’s wearing, tugging at it as if it’s the reason that he can’t breathe properly.
Dazai can’t go back to a world without you. He can’t.
Next to him, Atsushi is reaching out to him, as if trying to get him to calm down and Dazai doesn’t even want to know what the expression on his face might be right now. Everything is crumbling and tunneling around him—Atsushi, Kunikida, and Yosano are all dissolving, the car doors are fading away, the buildings and the streets and all of the scenery is just disappearing.
Shit, he thinks, trying to figure out how the hell to ground himself. Shit, shit-
The car comes to such an abrupt stop that Dazai would have gone flying into the seat in front of him were it not for Atsushi throwing an arm across his chest to stop it from happening, the brakes screeching loudly and the car skidding. Yosano is pointing wildly, shouting something and Kunikida is shouting something back, something along the lines of her nearly causing him to get into an accident, but Dazai can only follow to where Yosano is pointing too, gaze dragging across the woman’s arm in the direction of the beach to the left of the car.
He wonders if he’s hallucinating.
His fingers are shaking violently as he reaches out to push open the car door, squirming out of Atsushi’s protective hold. He flings himself out of the car desperately, nearly crashing hard onto the concrete—the fresh air is almost dizzying as he inhales it, pushing himself to his feet as quickly as possible. His broken leg screams in protest, but Dazai ignores it, vision blurring for the sparest moment before it focuses in on the figure standing on the beach in a familiar long, tan coat.
His lips part to call your name but no words leave them—he’s not sure if it’s because he’s still half out of it or if it’s because he’s scared that if he calls your name and you don’t respond, it’ll confirm it’s just a hallucination.
But he doesn’t have to say your name, whether it’s just by chance or if you heard the brakes of the car screeching, you turn in his direction.
You’re wearing his coat; it’s too long on you—the tan edges are dragging against the sand and whipping around you as the wind picks up. But you’re wearing his coat and you’re beautiful; your expression shifts into one of recognition and then shock as soon as you see Dazai in the near distance, the sun is starting to set over the horizon and the soft orange glow casts an unearthly glow over you, and Dazai thinks everything about this is entirely unreal. He thinks that you might be some sort of angel, or some other type of divine being, and he thinks that he doesn’t even deserve to look at you, much less consider you his.
As he makes his way toward you, he can’t even put together all of his thoughts in a coherent manner. You’re alive is the first thought that rings through his head, the relief is almost debilitating. All of the days he spent with his heart in his throat, unsure of whether or not his decision had gotten you killed, have finally come to an end. The next thought that runs through his head is god, because he’s imagined this moment dozens of times since he first had to leave you. He’s imagined running to you, scooping you into his arms and swinging you around, holding you close and refusing to let go because Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to let go of you again.
Except that’s entirely how it doesn’t go.
Dazai barely makes it to you before his legs are giving out on him, as much as he tries to ignore the pain, it evidently becomes too much for his body to handle. He’s collapsing into you the moment he makes it to you. His head is still throbbing, his leg is screaming, his body is aching, but your hands are instinctively grabbing him to break his fall, his knees crashing against the sand, and Dazai just can’t bring himself to care about the agony. He doesn’t care that his body is coming apart at its seams, he doesn’t even notice as you lower yourself down into the sand with him.
“Osamu.” His name leaves your lips in a breathy whisper, one that’s riddled with disbelief and longing—something else too, but Dazai can’t decipher it in his muddled state. “You’re here.”
He tries to say your name, but he’s pretty sure it comes out garbled and unintelligible. Distantly, he can feel his fingers twisting into the fabric of his jacket, trying to clutch onto you as best as he can in spite of the numbness that still threatens to consume him. Then, your grip on him shifts from the instinctual grab into your arms wrapping around his waist, one hand splayed across his back and the other sliding up to cradle his head to your chest as you hold him close, and Dazai thinks all is right in the world again. He doesn’t want to move, he doesn’t want to think, he doesn’t want to do anything but just let himself melt into you.
The feeling of your touch for the first time in weeks is enough to chase away the creeping numbness and anxiety, and everything still hurts but all of it dulls in comparison to being in your arms again. Dazai’s breath is shaky, he teeters over the edge of collapse now that he’s finally with you, his weary brain betraying him as it uses the comfort of your arms as an excuse to finally surrender. His vision swims—he’s not sure if it’s from relieved tears or exhaustion, maybe both—his nose is flooded with the scent of you, the scent of home.
“You’re here,” you whisper again as if you can’t believe it; Dazai can’t even blame you because a part of him still fears that if he lets go of you, you’ll disappear, a cruel trick on him played by his treacherous mind. You pull away from him and Dazai’s fingers instinctively cling to you harder, trying to get you to stay in place, but his body is far too weak for it to be effective.
You lean back and bring your hands up to cup Dazai’s cheeks and it takes all of his willpower to not just let himself fall limp. Your expression twists a bit, he’s not sure what you see—nothing good, definitely. Yosano splinted his leg and cleaned up the wounds on his face, but his ability canceling hers prevents him from getting the wounds healed quickly, so his face is bruised and swollen, cuts litter his skin from when the elevator had crashed to the bottom floor.
He thinks he must look disgusting, he doesn’t even know how you can bear to look at him. But he supposes that’s not a new thought to cross his mind, he’s never understood how you can look at him the way you do.
“What happened to you?” you breathe out, and Dazai’s lashes flutter as your thumb ghosts over his cheekbone, eyes searching his for an answer to your question. Dazai doesn’t know how to respond, so he doesn’t, leaning into your touch. “God, Osamu, you look like you’re about to drop dead.”
“Are you calling me ugly?”
Even in his objectively terrible state, Dazai is able to croak out the five words, although he’s sure the playful lilt is lost in his fatigue. You stare at him for a moment, as if you didn’t hear him properly, but then your expression shifts into one of disbelief and your hand flies to your mouth to smother the laugh that he’s missed so desperately the past two weeks.
“Can you walk?” you ask after a moment, hand lingering on his cheek before dropping down to his forearm, squeezing gently.
Dazai winces at your words, shaking his head—he barely even made it to you, he’s not going to make it all the way to your apartment complex.
You let out a puff of air caught between a laugh and a sigh. “Guess we’re doing this again,” you say, a teasing cadence dancing in your tone. Dazai’s brows furrow a bit in confusion, but then you’re grabbing his arm and trying to heave him to his feet. “At least you won’t be pretending to be unconscious this time.”
Dazai struggles to help you as you do your best to get him onto your back; a nostalgic feeling sweeps through him as he remembers the first time the two of you met, waking up after a failed suicide attempt to find you cursing and complaining as you try to haul him back to your apartment. He wonders if you knew what you know now back then, if you would have still stopped to help him—but that leads him to a line of questioning that he doesn’t want to approach yet.
Do you know where he’s been?
Do you know his past?
Do you know everything he’s done?
He pushes the thoughts away.
As if the gods above remember the event and want the two of you to reenact it as close to the original as possible, he feels a few drops of rain splatter against his face.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” He hears you complain as you finally get him settled on your back. “Keep your gangly legs to yourself this time, I don’t need them knocking into me this time.”
“... I was purposely trying to trip you, you know?” Dazai admits, voice hoarse and weak and the smile curling to the edges of his lips is lazy but it’s real for the first time in what feels like forever. “I thought it would be funny.”
You gasp loudly. “I knew it! You’re such an asshole.”
Dazai laughs, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck—he wants to bask in the light feeling that’s replacing the emptiness in his chest, but a part of him can’t help but feel like this is only the eye of the storm.
Back in the car, Kunikida looks a bit worried as you struggle to get Dazai onto your back.
“Should we go help her?” he asks quietly, glancing over at Yosano.
But Yosano doesn’t respond to him. She has an uncharacteristically soft expression on her face as she watches you laugh loudly at something Dazai says. He finally looks somewhat coherent again now that he’s with you, still in pain but that detached, disconnected look in his eyes that had been terrifying Atsushi is gone.
“No.” Atsushi is the one to respond to Kunikida, smiling lightly as he finally drags his gaze away as he watches a genuine smile twitch to the corners of Dazai’s lips as you nearly trip and fall under his weight. “Let’s head back to the office.”
Dazai has been sleeping for hours.
You let out a soft puff of air as you idly comb your fingers through his hair, eyes tracing his face. His right eye is completely swollen, his lip is split, you can see bruises littering his neck that disappear beneath the bandages he wears, his leg is broken and splinted. Despite all of that, he still somehow looks at ease as he rests in your lap.
You’re not as at ease.
Well, a part of you is, against all of your common sense. Having Dazai back in your arms is far more comforting than it should be, with the conversation that needs to be had looming over you. The sight of him sleeping peacefully in your lap, the feel of his heart thrumming beneath your hand, the sound of his steady breathing, it’s all enough to alleviate your body and mind of the stress and anxiety that has been crippling you for the past two weeks.
He’s alive. He’s okay. He came back to you.
You find consolation in the thoughts—in the few days you were detained by the Hunting Dogs, all you could do was think about Dazai. Your mind raced with worst case scenarios and crippling fears. In spite of all of the allegations placed against him, you still love him—you’d known it well before he left and the relief you felt seeing him again before was enough to confirm it.
You think it’s dangerous, and maybe a bit stupid; a part of you knows that you should run for the hills, the crimes that Jouno Saigiku listed out are nothing to scoff at, and even putting aside morality, his former position as an executive of the Port Mafia should be more than enough to have you fleeing, if only because that puts you in danger too. No one gets to the position that he supposedly obtained without gaining masses of enemies and no one leaves it alive without doubling said enemies.
But you’re not running for the hills—not because of his crimes, and not because of the risk of being with him—and that scares you a bit. You’re having trouble reconciling the Dazai you know with the one you’ve been told exists. Even when you recall all of the times you woke up to find him staring out your window with an unsettlingly detached expression, eyes too still and too black to be normal, as if they absorbed all sound and light around him; when you recall all of the man’s strange idiosyncrasies that just don’t line up with the front he puts up; when you recall that night in Kyoto where he refused to divulge what his previous job was, you just can’t.
The logic fits, your brain can see it and piece it together, your heart just won’t accept it.
Your knuckles graze the side of his face, a conflicted expression crossing over your own.
You don’t know what to do.
A part of you doesn’t want him to wake up, because you know that when he does, you’ll be forced to have the talk that you’ve been dreadfully anticipating since you learned about his crimes and imprisonment. You don’t know what you expect from the conversation, you don’t know how to approach it, you don’t know what you want to know nor why you want to know it, you don’t even know if you should continue with your relationship with him and you don’t even know why that’s still a question in your mind because obviously you shouldn’t continue a relationship with him.
Your brain feels like it might implode.
You take a step back.
As you always do when you’re faced with conflict and feel yourself getting overwhelmed, you try to take a more logical approach. First, you make yourself a chart: pros and cons, always a favorite of yours, centering around Dazai and your relationship with him. Then, you make a list: everything else you need to know to properly weigh into each of the pros and cons.
Pros:
Dazai makes you happy. (An important pro, you think, maybe it’ll outweigh all of the rest.)
Cons:
138 counts of conspiracy to murder.
You pause.
Distantly, you wonder what your life has come to—making a pro/con chart with one of the cons being 138 counts of conspiracy to murder. You press your hand against your mouth, staring ahead as you reconsider every action you’ve taken to lead to this moment. Promptly, you decide to scrap the pro/con chart and move right on to the list of things you need to know.
What do you need to know?
First off, you need confirmation over whether or not the allegations are true—if they’re not, then you’re spiraling for nothing and you can move on happily in your relationship with Dazai.
If they are?
You swallow thickly. You need context—you’re not sure what type of context would justify those crimes, you don’t think there’s any justification for them, honestly, but there must be a reason as to why you cannot reconcile the Dazai that you know with the one you’ve been told exists. You like to believe that you’re good at reading people—although you’re definitely questioning it now—so there must be some context that you’re missing as to how the “alleged Dazai” became the “known Dazai.”
And maybe—just maybe—if you can understand that, then maybe you can still move on in your relationship with him. Because even if his crimes aren’t justifiable, people can change and it would be beyond you to scorn someone trying to do their best to become a better person. It’s not like you’re some squeaky clean, paragon of virtue anyway: your university and grad school is mostly being paid off by your brother’s blood money from the underground rings, and yeah, it doesn’t really compare to being a former executive to the most dangerous gang in Yokohama but it definitely narrows your room to judge.
You glance back down at Dazai.
Your eyes meet wide, tired brown ones that immediately shut as soon as he catches you looking at him, as if pretending to still be asleep.
“Dazai Osamu, we are not playing this game again.”
Dazai reopens his eyes with a sheepish smile but he doesn’t say anything for a moment. Slowly, his expression shifts, the corners of his lips furling downward as a mixture of realization and resignation pools in his eyes.
“You know.”
The two words are so unassuming yet so damning, your heart lurches and your stomach churns. Dazai isn’t looking at you anymore, he’s staring up at the ceiling, waiting for you to speak.
Is that confirmation? Just like that?
“I don’t know anything until you tell me,” you decide to say, your voice a bit tighter than you intended for it to be.
Dazai’s eyes draw back to you, studying you carefully. He looks conflicted—over what, you’re not sure. You think if he tries to blow this off rather than explaining it to you, you might lose your mind. You’re giving him a chance to explain on his own terms and if he doesn’t take it-
You reach out instinctively as Dazai starts to push himself off of your lap into a sitting position, fingers brushing his back worriedly.
“You shouldn’t be moving around,” you tell him quietly.
He only shakes his head, finally speaking, his voice so quiet that it’s barely audible. “Let me take you somewhere.”
S. ODA
The four letters engraved into the headstone before you have been weathered by time, you can see lichen creeping across the slate and stone flaking at the edges—enough for you to put together that whoever has been put to rest here has probably been gone for a few years. Questions itch at the tip of your tongue but you bite them, waiting for Dazai to say something instead so that he can lead the conversation.
He has yet to say a word. From the moment that he slid into the passenger seat of your car, the only words that he’s spoken have been directions to the cemetery. The conflicted expression that had been etched onto his face has finally disappeared, smoothing out into an eerily blank one that you can hardly stand to look at because you know only dark thoughts must be racing through his head.
You wrap your arms around your waist as another chilly wind whips around the two of you, grateful that you’d thrown a jacket on before leaving your apartment. Dazai is only dressed in his trench coat, too thin for the cold but he refused to wear anything else. You’re not sure why, but you have caught him burying his nose into the collar and inhaling, memorizing your scent as if it’s about to disappear.
“I officially joined the Port Mafia when I was fifteen,” Dazai finally says. You raise your eyebrows a bit, wondering just how much autonomy a fifteen year old has to willingly choose to join the Mafia, but you don’t voice your thoughts, waiting for him to continue. “I met Nakahara Chuuya, a current executive of the Mafia, that same year and we earned the moniker Double Black for being the most lethal pair in Yokohama’s underground. At sixteen, I was put in charge of the boss’s personal covert ops unit and I was promoted to executive for all of my accomplishments, youngest underboss in the Mafia’s history. I’d eliminated countless rival organizations, opened numerous new distribution channels for all of their illegal trades, and had a hand in planning nearly all of the major operations both within and outside of Yokohama.”
His voice is void of any emotion, a cold monotone as he speaks the words like a bland recitation of a prewritten speech; his eyes are too empty and far too still as he stares ahead at the grave in front of the two of you. It’s unnerving; somehow, you think you like it even less than the actual matter of what he’s saying.
“Until I was eighteen, I continued to be the driving force behind the Mafia’s rapid growth and ironclad control over Yokohama; while I was an executive, no foreign organization dared to try to usurp control over any of our territory. They’d give up their territory if they knew I was the one heading the expansion operations, because they were scared of me and because they knew it was a lost cause trying to defend against me. Whatever you heard about me, it’s all true and probably way worse than you could ever imagine.”
The silence between the two of you following his words is damning—the wind is too loud and the distant sounds of cars honking and brakes screeching is jarring. You can hear your heart thudding in your ears, you can feel your gut twisting, your fingers tremble from where they’re stuffed in your pockets. Dazai is a statue next to you, his eyes haven’t budged, his limbs are stiff. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think him a corpse
Your lips part to speak but no words leave then. You take a moment before trying again. “How did you end up with the Mafia?” you ask, your voice is much weaker than you intended for it to be.
Because that’s what you need to focus on—the context, that’s what you’d decided before he woke up and that’s what you’ll stick to, not what he’s done, but first how he ended up there and then why he left. You can’t imagine a fifteen year old willingly choosing to join the Mafia, so you think there must be more to the story.
For the first time since the two of you arrived at the grave, Dazai moves—it’s subtle, a twitch of his fingers and a tug at the corner of his lips but it’s gone in an instant, you almost miss it.
“I tried to kill myself when I was fourteen.” Bile rises to your throat almost as soon as his words process, you finally turn to look up at him but his expression hasn’t shifted at all. “The doctor tending to me ended up becoming the new leader of the Port Mafia. I was kept around as an insurance policy, and partly by my own volition, but I joined willingly at fifteen after turning him down several times.”
“Why?”
“I… thought something would happen. For so long, I just… couldn’t feel anything, and I didn’t see the point in living because of it. I thought that maybe the more extreme emotions—violence, death, desire—all of the things that are found in abundance in the Mafia… I thought that if I could be around people who display all of these things so plainly, that I would be able to see and understand what makes humankind human. I thought that maybe it would help me feel more human, and find some sort of reason to keep living.”
You exhale, eyes sliding shut for a second. You feel nauseous—hands lighty trembling as you desperately try to digest the large pill he gave you as quickly as you can because you still have more questions but god, what type of fourteen, fifteen year old feels so empty inside that he turns to the Mafia to try to feel something?
“You were a kid, Osamu. You’re not some incarnate of evil for ending up where you did, you were failed by all of the adults in your life,” you finally say quietly; you’re the one staring ahead now, and you can feel his eyes on you but you don’t dare to turn to look at him because you know that it’ll make you crack and you need to continue. Clearly something else happened when he was eighteen that led to him leaving the Mafia but what? Your gaze trails back to the grave in front of you, a sinking feeling in your chest. You take a deep, steady breath before asking your next question: “What changed at eighteen?”
“I didn’t leave the Port Mafia because I had some great epiphany as to the immorality of my actions,” Dazai snaps. His voice is tight and borderline antagonistic, emotion finally seeping into the monotone, as if he’s trying to convince you that he is what you claim he’s not. “I-”
He cuts himself off abruptly, his voice cracks, you lift your gaze to his face and your throat spasms when you notice the black pits have been replaced with the warm brown you’re used to, a vast array of emotions swimming within them, too many for you to pinpoint a single one.
“He was my friend,” Dazai finally says softly. “My only one, maybe. When he died, he told me that if both sides are the same to me—evil and justice—that I should become a good person, I should save people. So, do you understand? Nothing about me has changed since back then, and the only reason I’m on the side of the ‘good’ is because someone else asked it of me, not for any altruistic reason. I’m still the same now as I was then.”
“... I don’t think that’s quite true,” you tell him after a few seconds of silence, and you can feel him look at you and you can practically hear the bitter ‘what do you know?’ that he’s about to let out, so you force yourself to continue before he can. “I think that if someone had told me all of this a few weeks ago, I would’ve laughed in their face. I never once-”
Dazai scoffs. “So, you don’t understand,” he says, voice reverting back to that empty tone you hate, but his body is tense and he’s looking anywhere but you. “I’m good at putting up fronts, wearing masks depending on who I’m around; it’s how I learned to blend in with people. The man you know doesn’t exist. I’m a fraud, my blood runs black; when I’m pushed into a corner, I invariably fall back into old habits. I’ll never leave the dark and I don’t belong-”
“I think you’re wrong,” you interrupt him, recalling Yosano’s words from two weeks ago—he’ll never believe it himself. “I don’t think you’ll ever see yourself from an objective standpoint. I don’t think you want to believe that you’ve changed for the better, but I think you have. I’m not stupid, Osamu, and I’ve never been one to fall for people’s acts, no matter how good they might be. I’ve known something was up with you since that first night when I woke up and found you staring out the window, and still, I have never once doubted that you were a good man.”
“I killed people to get out of Meursault, I was willing to torture people to get information when the Guild showed up in Yokohama and then again when the Decay of the Angel arrived, I’ll manipulate anyone and everyone around me to see my plans through, I…”
Dazai is still listing off all of the reasons why he’s still a bad person, and maybe you should be listening but you can hear the way his voice is becoming increasingly more tinged with desperation, as if he’s intent on convincing you to change your viewpoint on him. You wonder if he thinks you’ll run, and then, you wonder if he’s trying to make you run—each sentence he speaks becomes more descriptive than the last.
He’ll find himself sorely disappointed, because you’ve already decided that you won’t run. You’re still not convinced that this is the smartest decision on your part; Dazai is dangerous and being with him is dangerous, not because of him himself, but because of the threats that still linger from his past, but you suppose love always drives people to do stupid things in its name anyway. Even now, as he lists off all of these terrible things, you can’t imagine your life without him—you think a life without him will be dull and gray, and you’ll always look back to the time you spent with him as the happiest you ever were, regretting the decision you made here.
You’re not the type of person to live a life full of regrets.
And whether he sees it or not, you think he has changed. You’re not the only one—Yosano, Atsushi, all of the members of the Agency see him in a similar light as you, but he’s so blinded by his past that he refuses to see himself in the present. Even the things he says now, all of it was done in the name of protecting the people he cares about, and that’s not something you’re going to condemn him for.
“I think he’d be proud of you.” You cut off his tangent with seven quiet words and Dazai goes utterly still and utterly silent next to you. “I didn’t know him, of course, but I think he’d be proud of the man you’ve become, Osamu. Change doesn’t happen overnight, you were surrounded by the dark for so long, and from such a young age, that it might take decades to remove its influence over you, but you’re trying and you’re saving people. I wish you could see yourself the same way I see you. I think he would be proud.��
You wonder if you pushed too far, sparing a glance his way. His brows are furrowed so intensely that you can’t hope to try to imagine what might be going through his mind, brown eyes flooding with emotion as he looks down at his friend’s grave.
“I’m not someone that was born to be with people,” he finally croaks out. “Romantically or platonically. I’m not right in the head. Manipulative, constantly trying to kill myself, prone to jealousy, pettiness and casual cruelty. There are so many people trying to kill me that I stashed guns in your apartment when you weren’t home just in case they came after me while I’m there—I don’t care if they get me, but they might go after me when I’m with you, or even go after you to get to me. Sometimes, I regret leaving the Mafia because I feel like it’s the only place I actually belonged because it’s the only place where I was actually good at what I do.”
You don’t speak, instead letting him list off everything that he thinks is wrong with him, laying out bare all of the things that he tried so hard to hide from you over the past few months. He can’t look at you, eyes trained ahead and you can see the way his fists are clenched in the pockets of his trench coats. He lowers his face into his collar again, burying his nose in the fabric before continuing.
“During really bad slumps, I can barely get out of bed even though I can’t sleep; sometimes I won’t eat for days unless someone notices and forces me to and if they do, I usually get nasty with them; and I’ll do just about anything to die. Atsushi-kun has had to fish me from more rivers than I can count, Kunikida-kun has had to drag me to the hospital after trying to overdose on pills or drink various types of poisons, Yosano-sensei has spent days watching over me because she didn’t trust me not to try again once one of them saved me.”
His voice has mostly returned to that cold monotone, but there’s a hint of emotion clinging to the edges that he just can’t wipe away, something caught between desperation and pleading. Your throat feels tight and swollen and you think that your heart might be shattering a bit with how he’s so set on pushing you away and convincing you that he’s simply too horrid to be loved.
“I can’t cook. I don’t clean. I hardly shower. I’m more often drunk than I am sober. I can barely go a week without trying to kill myself at least once. I suck at saving money because I figure I’m going to die soon anyway, so I don’t see the point in it. I have an awful lifestyle and more unhealthy habits than I can count. I've tried to change it but I always fail. I don’t know how to comfort people and when I’m confronted with conflict by people I care about, I’ll avoid them until I can act like nothing's wrong. I’ll be more of a bother than anything else, really.”
“I still want you,” you finally say quietly, watching as a distressed expression sweeps over his face.
“You really don’t,” he protests weakly. You wonder if he’s trying to convince himself of it, or you—maybe both.
“I do. I’ll take care of you.”
“It’s rotten work,” he breathes out, a last ditch attempt to persuade you away.
“Not to me,” you tell him firmly. “Not if it’s you.”
“I don’t deserve this.” Dazai shakes his head, voice so quiet that you can barely hear him. “I don’t understand—everything I told you and you’re still… I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”
“I disagree, but regardless, that’s hardly relevant,” you say absently, finally reaching out to loop your arm in his, resting your head against his bicep. “Do you want this? Do you want me?”
“Yes.” His voice is so hoarse and so low, as if he can barely bring himself to say the words out loud.
“Then it’s yours. I’m yours.”
Dazai’s jaw is clenched so tight that you’re worried he’s going to damage his teeth, he brings his hand to his eyes as if to cover the upper half of his face. You squeeze his arm a bit, comforting, eyes sliding shut.
“Everything I touch withers and turns to ashes,” Dazai rasps. “Anything I never want to lose is always lost. I’m scared that by being with you, I’m also killing you.”
“I’ll take that risk, if it means I can be with you,” you tell him, watching as he shakes his head, still refusing to look at you.
“You’re so damn stubborn,” he exhales quietly.
“You love me for it,” you tease lightly.
“I do,” he admits, and your eyes shoot open a bit at his words. You glance up at him, but he’s looking ahead, expression downcast. “And I’m sorry about that.”
“Are you apologizing for loving me?” you ask, a bit incredulously.
“Yeah. I am.”
“Osamu…”
Your voice is soft, you’re not sure what you want to say but you falter when Dazai suddenly looks down at you. His eyes are so exhausted, he looks like he hasn’t had any rest in years—his shoulders sag and his arms hang limply at his sides. You think that maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to all of this when he’s still recovering, but you also think that the fatigue is not just physical.
“I’m so tired,” Dazai suddenly whispers, resting his forehead on the top of your head. His voice cracks a bit over the word, you slip your arms around his waist, letting him lean into you.
“Then let’s go home, yeah?”
“... Yeah, let’s go home.”
When you get back to your apartment, it’s still dark but you know dawn will break soon; as Dazai stumbles over to your bed, you make your way to the window. You close the curtains so that Dazai will be able to sleep easily even after the sun rises, and then move over to your nightstand to turn on the dim lamp so you can at least see a little bit.
Dazai drops his coat onto your desk chair before he takes a seat on the edge of your bed, feet planted on the floor as he stares ahead at the wall. He looks lost, conflicted; you don’t know what to say to draw him out of it, so you decide not to say anything. Instead, you make your way over to him and take a seat next to him—your thigh brushes his, arms ghosting each other’s, and Dazai immediately leans over to rest his head on your shoulder, eyes sliding shut.
You lift your hand to cradle the back of his head, fingers idly carding through his dark locks. You feel him let out a shaky breath, the air hot against your skin, and you turn your head to the side, pressing your lips to the top of his hair, lingering for a moment before resting your head against his.
“Lay down and get some sleep,” you tell him softly. “I’ll stay with you.”
Dazai exhales, but he doesn’t budge from where he’s leaning heavily against you. “... I need to take off my bandages,” he finally says quietly. “They’re drenched in sweat and blood, haven’t had a chance to change them since I left… I don’t want to get in bed with them on.”
You pause and then ask, “Do you want me to go grab the new roll I bought? I can step out.”
“I don’t have the energy to put them back on,” he finally murmurs, and then a bit more hesitantly, he adds: “Can you help me take them off?”
You think your heart is in your throat. In the months you’ve been with Dazai, the only glimpse you’ve gotten of his body beneath the bandages was that day he showed up at your doorstep bleeding out and you had no choice but to cut through some of them to patch up the wound, and even then, you only saw the sparest bits of his body, only what was necessary to stop the bleeding. He’s been so careful to keep it hidden from you and now…
“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Of course, I can.”
You shift a bit so that you can kneel behind him on the bed, fingers curling around the hem of his white long sleeved shirt. You tap his arm gently, a silent ask for him to raise his arms, and when he does, you slide the thick cloth off of his body, leaving him in his pants and the bandages that cover every inch of visible skin besides his face and hands.
He was right, they do look disgusting—most of them are yellowed and frayed at the edges, as if they’d been drenched with water and dried several times over. There’s blood staining the bandages on his side and a black tarry substance clinging to the bandages wrapped around his waist. You lean forward and press your lips against his shoulder, over the somewhat clean bandages that are covering the skin there, and you can hear Dazai let out a sharp, shaky breath in front of you.
“Ready?” you whisper, fingers grazing the clip fastened to the bandages on his neck, holding them in place.
He only nods, so you press another soft kiss to him, this time to the crook of this neck, and unfasten the clips to unwind the bandages from around his neck. To your credit, your fingers don’t falter when a rugged, discolored scar is revealed, looped around his neck; it’s mostly faded, but it’s still rough beneath the pads of your fingers. Your eyes linger though, there’s no question as to what caused the scar and your mind instinctively draws back to all of the offhand comments and jokes that Dazai has ever made about ceiling beams and nooses and your throat feels a bit tight.
You dip your head down to press your lips against the nape of his neck, right over where the rough skin crosses. You can hear his breath hitch, you can feel the way he shivers, but you don’t say anything as you continue to unwind the bandages around his chest and torso. You’ve seen most of the scars that litter his back from when you’d had to patch up his bullet wound, but it’s different seeing them without the fear of him bleeding out fogging your brain.
They look much harsher against his pale skin now—the worst is still that deep, jagged one that runs from his shoulder to the corner of his hip, but you can’t help but notice that there are more that you hadn’t noticed that day. Most of them are various types of cuts and slashes, some deeper than others, and healed bullet wounds, your gaze is particularly drawn to the most recent one on his upper back. It’s fresh compared to all of the others, still red and easily agitated—your fingers brush over it for a moment before you lean in to press another kiss to his shoulder blade, right over where the worst of the scars begins.
You shift from behind him to sit at his side, dropping the bandages that had been covering his chest, torso and neck haphazardly onto your bedroom floor before reaching out for his right arm.
Dazai withdraws immediately.
His expression is guarded, you think that his eyes seem a bit glassy but you can’t tell with the dim lighting. You don’t say anything, and you don’t reach out again; after a few moments of him studying you, his shoulders slump and Dazai moves his arm so that it’s back in your lap. Your eyes trace his face one last time, making sure he’s okay, before you lift your fingers to start unwrapping the bandages, starting at his bicep.
The skin of his bicep is mostly clear—there’s one light scar cutting through its side, as if a bullet had grazed him. When you move down to his forearm, Dazai is stiff and you can see the discomfort on his face, but he doesn’t pull away, so you continue.
And you falter, because as you loosen the bandages to remove them, you catch sight of the deep scars lining his wrist and forearm. The skin is uneven and discolored, there’s hardly an inch of visible skin on his lower arm that’s not covered by the vertical scars. He’s staring at you, dark eyes heavy and inspecting your every reaction—he’s looking for something, and you don’t know what, but you just decide to do the same thing you’ve done every other time you finished taking off a set of bandages and lean down to press your lips against his pulse point, moving over to do the same to his other wrist after unwrapping the bandages there too.
Your gaze flickers down to his legs, where you can see the bandages on his ankles peeking out from the white pants he’s wearing, a bit too short for his long legs. You pat his thigh gently and say, “C’mon, let’s get you out of these ugly things.”
Dazai shifts up just enough for you to help him slide the loose plants off so you can toss them off to the side, leaving him in his briefs and the bandages wrapped around his thighs and calves. You move to kneel in front of him, instantly getting to unwinding them, starting at his ankle.
“Do you remember what you told me back then?” Dazai asks quietly, looking down at his lap instead of you. “The day we met?”
“I told you a lot of things that day,” you say lightly as you glance up at him, careful as you unwrap the bandages around his calves. You kiss his knee. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“You said you’d change the trajectory of my life,” he murmurs, twisting his fingers absently.
Vaguely, you remember the words, smiling a bit in amusement.
“About the hot chocolate?” you question, laying a kiss to his other knee before shifting up to unwrap the bandages on his thighs; you make sure not to let the pain show on your face when you notice that his inner thighs are as littered with scars as his wrists and forearms, all of them dangerously close to his femoral artery.
“Yeah.” He lets out a puff of air akin to a laugh, but when you glance up at him, you see there’s very little amusement on his face. In fact, he looks more wistful than anything else. “You really did, you know? Not with the hot chocolate, obviously, but just… you. You did.”
You sit back on your heels as you look up at Dazai, taking his hand into yours before lifting it to your lips, kissing his knuckles softly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. When he continues, his voice is hoarse, bordering on a plea, “Don’t ever go somewhere I can’t follow.”
“Somewhere without you?” you ask, a teasing lilt to your voice as you kiss the palm of his hand before letting go so you can move to unwrap the bandages from his other leg. “Sounds dreadful, I would never.”
He lets out a noise as if he doesn’t entirely believe you, as if it’s some inevitable fate that the two of you will face. So when you finish unwinding the bandages and push them off to the side with the rest of them, you lean up on your knees to cup his cheek, pulling him down a bit to you so you can press your lips to the corner of his.
“You’re stuck with me.”
“I think it’s the other way around,” he croaks out, and the wry laugh he lets out falls flat.
You squeeze his hand again before you rise to your feet, and when you do, Dazai’s throat spasms as you stand in front of him, looking down at him. He’s stripped bare in front of you now—physically, emotionally, and he looks at you with an expression that lets you know that you have the power to utterly ruin him. He’s trusted you with his heart, handed it over to you on a platter after having guarded it so desperately and carefully for so long, and you can see the vulnerability in his dark eyes as he watches you restlessly, waiting to see what you’ll do with it.
You lean forward again, pressing your lips against his forehead softly and then to his own, a chaste, innocent kiss that lasts no longer than half a second.
“I love you,” you tell him quietly.
Humans cannot live without a heart, so if he’s to give you his, it’s only fair that you give him your own—though realistically, yours has already been his for a long time. Your heart beats in his chest now, and his in yours, and you wonder if he understands the gravity of what that means but you think he does, if the way his expression crumbles has anything to say about it. His hands fly to your waist, dragging you down onto his lap. His fingers bite a bit too deeply into your skin for it to be comfortable, but you only wrap your arms around his shoulders and let him bury his face into the crook of your neck.
“I think I might’ve been born just so I could meet you,” Dazai admits, words thick and throaty, muffled against your neck.
You smile lightly, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, turning your head to the side to kiss his temple. “I feel the same,” you whisper, because there’s no way anything but destiny led you to Dazai Osamu on that beach—one way or another, you were fated to be with him.
Dazai pulls his face from where he’s had it tucked in your neck to press his lips to yours; he kisses you desperately, hands rising to cup your cheeks. In one swift motion, he has you pinned down on the bed, hips and chest flush to yours, hand slipping behind your head to tilt your head so he can deepen the kiss, and you’re reeling at his sudden switch up, struggling to keep up with him. His tongue traces the inside of your lip, deceptively gentle compared to the way he has body pressed against yours.
Your hands fly to his waist, sliding over his bare skin, over all of the rough ridges of his scars and his body shudders against yours violently, unused to the feeling of someone touching him without his bandages as a barrier. He pulls back, tugging at your bottom lip softly before moving just far enough away for your lips to be brushing, sharing the same sliver of air. You can feel his breath fanning across your lips, it smells of the peppermints you have littered across your desk and distantly, you can’t help but wonder when he managed to steal one, but the thought is only fleeting. It’s dizzying, hot, so intimate that you think your heart is about to fly out of your chest.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” Dazai breathes out, dark eyes searching yours as he speaks.
“Me neither,” you agree, and then you smile, leaning up to steal another kiss from him, and then another, and then another. “Good thing we have the rest of our lives to try.”
Less than a week later, you stand in the chaos of the Armed Detective Agency as they argue over a new case—and by they, you mean Yosano and Kunikida with Dazai occasionally making antagonistic comments to try to make Kunikida blow a fuse. You don’t really know what you’re doing here, you suppose the Agency doesn’t really care and you have nothing better to do anyway —you lost your internship at the Ministry of Defense, obviously, with all of the chaos that went down and classes have yet to start up again, and Dazai begged and pleaded for you to come with him to work because he ‘can’t stand having to look at Kunikida-kun’s ugly mug all day,’ but you figure it’s only because he wants to sneak off to you whenever Kunikida is distracted.
Like now.
Dazai has flopped onto where you’re lounging on the couch as he watches Kunikida and Yosano go at it, head resting on your chest, giggling to himself as Kunikida’s face goes red and Yosano looks increasingly more entertained. You’re idly playing with his hair as you scroll through your phone, distantly listening to the argument that you’re pretty sure Dazai instigated just so he could slink away from his desk.
It’s only a matter of time before Kunikida notices Dazai’s scheme and drags him off of you, but it’s nearly the end of the day anyway and you and Dazai are going to the theme park in the Kanagawa prefecture once he can leave work, so you’re excited. You think you’re going to ask Atsushi, Kyouka and Kenji to come along with the two of you, even if Dazai pouts and scowls over it, because they’ve spent most of the day talking to you when Kunikida was forcing Dazai to actually do his work.
“Ranpo will be here soon,” Yosano goads Kunikida. “We’ll see what he says.”
Kunikida’s eye twitches and he parts his lips to speak but before he can, the door to the Agency flies open and a familiar dark-haired man comes bounding in, snacking on a bag of sweets. Tanizaki follows behind him, looking exhausted if not a bit relieved to be back.
“Tanizaki got us lost three times,” Ranpo complains, making his way through the reception area toward the interior. Tanizaki looks disgruntled, as if he doesn’t entirely agree with Ranpo’s statement but is beyond arguing about it. Ranpo pauses next to the couches where you and Dazai are lounging. “It’s you.”
Your eyebrows raise a bit when you notice the thinly veiled irritation in Ranpo’s voice. Dazai looks up, eyes a bit narrowed, and both Yosano and Kunikida pause from where they were about to bring their argument to Ranpo, sharing a look with one another.
“Ranpo-san, don’t be ru-” Dazai starts to complain, although you can tell there’s a hint of tightness to his voice.
“First, everyone in the Agency ignores me when I tell them not to take this case; then, I go out of the way to warn you about the Hunting Dogs and instead of listening to me, you throw yourself into the heart of Yokohama and make yourself easy pickings for them,” Ranpo rants. “I don’t even know why I try.”
Realization strikes fast, your face feels a bit hot. Dazai sits up from where he’s laying on you, looking between you and Ranpo, a bit confused.
“... You were R,” you realize sheepishly, wondering how you hadn’t put it together sooner.
Ranpo all but sneers. “Aren’t you supposed to be an honors student at Waseda? I swear, sometimes I think I’m the only person in my life with brain cells.” he says snidely, pointedly raising his chin and looking away from you as he adds: “I suppose your arrest wasn’t entirely a bad thing, though—made the police force more willing to open their eyes with their wives and family members going off the deep end about the Hunting Dogs. But still, after all the effort I went through to get that warning to you…”
He finishes with a loud scoff, but you’re more focused on the aghast expression on Dazai’s face as he looks at you, and you brace yourself for the conversation that’s about to come, wondering how the hell you’re going to get out of it.
“You got arrested?” Dazai blanches, eyes wide and face a bit pale.
You wince, laughing a bit sheepishly. “Yeah… ha, look at us, in jail at the same time! Couple goals, huh?”
Dazai doesn’t look half as amused—a mix of disbelief, guilt and a hint of anger all visible on his face. You don’t know where the guilt is coming from, but you figure he must blame himself for it somehow, which you think is a bit ridiculous because it was your choice to let yourself get arrested when you had the chance to flee. You think that your trip to the amusement park is going to be tainted now, because you know that as soon as Dazai gets the chance, he’s going to bully you into an interrogation over what happened, so to salvage the night and spare yourself the headache, you finally make your move.
“Atsushi-kun, Kyouka-chan, Kenji-kun, Osamu and I are going to the amusement park later, you should join us!”
The look Dazai gives you is nothing short of betrayal, but luckily, Atsushi, Kenji and Kyouka, who’ve all lit up at your words, excited, can see it from where they’re sitting. You smile sweetly up at Dazai, leaning up to steal a kiss; he is disgruntled, narrowing his eyes at you.
“Oh? The one in Kanagawa?” Yosano suddenly asks, interested. “We’ll come too.”
Dazai buries his face in your chest, letting out a muffled groan. Yosano tosses you a wink, seemingly having forgotten about her argument with Kunikida as she throws her arm around the man and gives him a sharp look.
“Won’t we, Kunikida?” she asks with a terrifying smile. Kunikida looks as if he’s going to protest but before he can, Yosano’s arm around him tightens. “Won’t we?”
“Fine,” Kunikida bites out, looking none too pleased. “I need to hurry and finish this report then, so let go.”
Ranpo points at you. “You’ll fund my cotton candy for the night as an apology for the unnecessary headache,” he declares and you let out a huff of laughter in agreement.
“Can Naomi and I come too?” Tanizaki asks, a bit hesitant as he glances at you and notices the way Dazai has slumped into your chest, defeated. “We’ve only been once when we were kids. It’d be fun to go back.”
“‘Course,” you agree easily. “Dazai and I are gonna head out now though, I have to run to the store before we go.”
Kunikida only waves you off—he probably doesn’t even register what you asked, too focused on getting his report done—so you push Dazai off of you and rise to your feet, stretching because your back has become a bit sore from lounging around all day. Dazai nearly topples onto his ass, shooting you an accusing look before standing up straight.
You hold your hand out to him, he takes it, looking a bit mollified.
“See you in a bit,” you tell the Agency, and you get various different goodbyes as you leave the office.
As soon as the door shuts behind the two of you, Dazai is scowling at you. “You’re devious,” he claims. “Inviting them all to avoid a much needed conversation. Diabolical.”
“Learned from the best,” you coo, leaning into him and nudging his arm with your shoulder. He rolls his eyes, you grin. “Please, you and I both know you would spend the whole night trying to talk about it if we go alone and it would piss me off. We can talk about it when we get home.”
“And now.” The smile that Dazai gives you is all teeth, you grimace. “How did you get arrested?”
You just shrug. “They asked me for information, I refused to give it. I figured if they were going to come after me one way or another, it’s better that it happens in public—people don’t really take kindly to watching someone get arrested for associating with an organization that they’ve all associated with at some point or another because they’ll get scared that they’re next.”
Dazai looks at you, distinctly impressed. “You are devious.” He sounds proud, your cheeks heat up a bit, but then his expression drops again. “But still reckless. You could’ve been killed.”
“But I wasn’t.” You wave him off and then absently bid goodbye to the cafe owner and his wife as the two of you leave the cafe and make your way down the street to where you’d parked this morning.
“But you could’ve been,” Dazai stresses the words, he’s a lot more tense than you expected, his jaw is tight. He catches the way you’re looking at him and shakes his head, letting out a puff of air. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” you ask, brows furrowed.
“It’s my fault,” he tells you, and you immediately scoff, rolling your eyes. “It is, you don’t understand—I was with Dostoevsky in Meursault, I had to make a decision-”
“Shut up,” you tell him, irate. His mouth shuts instantly. “Stop acting like I have no autonomy. I knew what I was walking into, I chose to do it anyway. That’s the end of it, stop blaming yourself for every little thing that goes wrong, Osamu. You’re only human, you can’t control everything.”
You can tell that Dazai doesn’t believe you, but that’s an argument for another day. Luckily, Dazai doesn’t look too keen on pressing the subject anyway. Instead, conflict sweeps over his face as he studies you.
Finally, he asks quietly, “You never doubted the Agency?”
You let out a sharp laugh. “Are you kidding? There’s no way anyone’s going to convince me that the people in that office building are terrorists. That’s absurd, I figured there was something supernatural going on, just didn’t know what.”
Dazai looks at you, disbelief painted on his face. You’re not sure why until he lets out his own laugh, shaking his head. “The Decay of the Angel had a reality altering book,” he explains, eyeing you as the two of you continue down the sidewalk. “And you managed to somehow subvert the reality they created with it.”
You can’t tell if it’s a question or not, and for some reason, you feel distinctly seen as he looks down at you with an indecipherable expression. So you just shrug. “They shouldn’t have written such a ludicrous reality, then,” is all you say, a bit awkwardly.
Dazai only laughs again, slinging an arm around your shoulder. You lean your head into him, smiling softly. You bask in his presence, letting the warmth of the setting sun wash across your face as you share a few moments of silence.
As the two of you reach the parking garage you’d parked in, Dazai suddenly stops, looking down at you. “Do you believe in fate?” he asks quietly, uncertainty in his eyes as he watches you for a response.
“Yeah,” you tell him. You’ve always believed in fate, and you believe in it a bit more after meeting Dazai, because somehow you know that you were always destined to meet him, that your fates have been intertwined since the moment the two of you were born. You simply cannot imagine a life without him, not in this world or any other. “String theory, multiverse, I think the world’s a lot bigger than just ours. Why?”
You glance up at him curiously. “You do?” he asks a bit distantly, leaning down to ghost his lips against your forehead. Then a bit more hesitant, he continues, “If you think there’s more worlds like ours… do you think we’re together in all of them?”
You snort, which is obviously not the reaction Dazai expects from the way he jolts, but before he can take offense to your reaction, you speak.
“Definitely,” you say so confidently that he almost looks taken aback. “I’ll find you in every universe, you can count on it.”
You think he looks beautiful right now as the sun finally sets over the horizon, the pale orange tints of the coming dusk making his skin glow, his eyes soft and fond, full of longing as he looks down at you. You’re struck with a distinct urge to kiss him, but he looks so divine in this moment that you can hardly bring yourself to move, spellbound as you admire him.
“Yeah,” he finally breathes out, “I will.”
i don’t even really have words guys 🥹 i’m literally about to weep i can’t believe it’s over
#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s archives#dazai x reader#dazai x you#dazai osamu x reader#dazai osamu x you#bsd x reader#bsd x you#bungo stray dogs x you#bungo stray dogs x reader
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WHO’S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME? — JACK HUGHES
jack hughes x fem!reader
summary: in which jack hughes should be afraid of what y/n can do to his reputation
notes: yeah, idk what this is either; there’s not much plot.
september 16th, 2023
deuxmoi
24,107 likes
deuxmoi pop sensation, y/n, is seen hands on with new boy toy?
if anyone has any information on who this man is, do come forward! we’d love to know who america’s queen of heartbreak anthems is with now!
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user82 the hand placement?! HELLO?!
user3 oh great, new music where she makes herself some sad victim again
user55 a new love album next?! maybe?!
user09 let’s not get ahead of ourselves, it’s some low grade pap photos posted on a gossip blog. it could’ve been a first date for all we know
user45 @/user09 with the way they are in these pics? absolutely NOT a first date. y/n has famously said she doesn’t get “frisky” early on because of her ex. most definitely a bf
user92 oh her next song is gonna HIT
user06 that guy kinda looks…. where were these taken and when?
deuxmoi all the sender said was that they saw them in michigan last night! know something?
user06 hmm the tl matches! that looks like it could be @/jackhughes , a hockey player for the New Jersey Devils!
user98 OH MY GOD, YOU’RE RIGHT!
user67 those hands?! girlie better never let him go!
september 27th, 2023
y/nofficial
liked by sabrinacarpenter and 4,628,961 others
y/nofficial every dead end street led you straight to me 🤍
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user72 SOFT LAUNCH OH MY GOD
user5 oh he’s got her using emojis?! she’s down BAD
user29 i’m so happy for her, she deserves so much love and happiness and it seems like he gives that to her 🫶
user6 MOTHER?!
user01 what poor boy did she sink her claws into this time?
user9 if you don’t like her, why are you on her post? obsessed much?
sabrinacarpenter he scored 😉
y/nofficial sab!! nah, i think i did!
user92 he better be treating her damn good! it’s what she deserves after ‘he who shall not be named’!
user76 i know who you meant but also started giggling at the idea of her writing an album about voldemort 😭
y/nofficial @/user76 gasp! don’t you know who lover is about?! the dark lord and i just couldn’t make it work :(
october 10th, 2023
jackhughes
liked by y/nofficial, nicohischier, and 815,736 others
jackhughes as a wise woman once said: “i was enchanted to meet you”
tagged y/nofficial
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y/nofficial my sweet boy 🤍
jackhughes my pretty girl
user76 A HARD LAUNCH
user94 THEY’RE SO SICKENINGLY CUTE 😭 SHE DESERVES THIS
user36 JACK IS DATING Y/N?! OH THE SONGS THAT WILL COME OUT OF THIS
user8 he could do so much better
lhughes_06 about damn time
trevorzegras JACK WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE JOKING
user02 oh they’re so cute 🥹
dawson1417 did you just… hard launch with the biggest singer in america rn?
jackhughes y/n says “what? like it’s hard?” idk what that means
user16 can we talk about how happy she looks?! and i know her hockey loving self is giggling and kicking her feet over her landing a hockey player! too cute!!
john.marino97 if her next RED-like album is about you, i’m requesting a trade. can’t believe i’m gonna have to listen to songs about YOU
january 1st, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by jackhughes and 5,827,025 others
y/nofficial thank you 2023, you brought so much love and laughter 🤍 can’t wait to see what 2024 brings!
tagged jackhughes
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user86 oh she’s so down bad she was taking pics of him at his game 😭
user9 one tour pic and three pics regarding to jack? she’s so in love
jackhughes here’s to another year with you, my talented girl
y/nofficial i can’t wait for another year with you, my love 🤍
user55 i can’t wait to see you in KC this year!!
user7 she’s truly living her best life and i’m obsessed!!
user21 i hope 2024 is just as good to you as 2023 was!
january 26th, 2024
deuxmoi
36,592 likes
deuxmoi fan submission: trouble in paradise?
pop sensation, y/n, and her boyfriend, hockey player Jack Hughes, were seen out by a fan last night. the fan claims that they overheard y/n consoling Jack about his recent injury that has left him unable to play. in the video (on our site), you can hear y/n telling Jack “i know not playing is hard, i know it’s sad-”. Jack is heard cutting her off and snapping “you don’t get to tell me about sad. you don’t get it, so stop acting like you do.”according to the fan, y/n left the date alone and in tears.
what do you guys think, is this couple over?
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user29 wow what an asshole, she was just trying to be comforting
user4 wtf?
user07 yeah, can’t say i didn’t expect them to end soon enough
user99 she was trying to comfort him and he snapped at her? yeah, i’d hope they’re over
user20 she deserves better
user19 it’s just an argument, everyone is being so overdramatic
user3 do i think they’re over? no. if we know anything about y/n, it’s that she’s forgiving, sometimes to a fault.
user67 i don’t think they’re broken up but if she was leaving alone and crying, i hope they will be soon enough
user82 has anyone thought that maybe he didn’t need comforting?
user13 umm, obviously he did if he snapped at her
user98 idk about everyone else, but i do think they’re broken up if she left alone and was visibly upset
user23 oh i can’t wait to hear what she writes about him. i’ve known he seemed too good to be true
february 14th, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by oliviarodrigo and 7,431,846 others
y/nofficial happy valentines to my favorite boy 🤍
the most kind-hearted, respectful, and loving man i’ve ever had the pleasure of being able to call mine. nobody is perfect, but i think you’re pretty close to it. i’m so eternally grateful to have you in my life 🤍
tagged jackhughes
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user6 oh, she’s still with him
user02 y/n, baby, please come to your senses
user14 i don’t like him at all after last month
jackhughes happy valentines, beautiful girl ❤️
user65 “nobody is perfect” oh, mother is telling us rn
comments on this post are now limited
march 23rd, 2024
deuxmoi
29,783 likes
deuxmoi looks like y/n and her hockey beau have called it quits! eagle eyed fans spotted last night that they’ve unfollowed each other on instagram and y/n deleted all photos of him.
previously, y/n ONLY followed jack, now she’s back down to 0, which fans seem to read as a finality to their relationship.
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user95 about time! after that spat in january, i feel like everyone was waiting for this
user72 EVERYONE MOVE! EVERYONE REJOICE! MOTHER IS FREE!
user24 GOOD RIDDANCE!!
user61 can’t wait to hear who the catalyst was, him or her?
user3 obviously she’ll make herself out to be the victim
user61 @/user3 tell me you’ve never actually listened to y/n without telling me you’ve never actually listened to y/n 🙄 she doesn’t shy away from admitting if she was the one who ruined a relationship, she admits she has problems and that sometimes she gets in her own head
user8 it was obviously him after that video in january
user23 everyone is celebrating but have we stopped for a second to realize that she’s probably really heart broken right now?
user70 fr! like, she seemed so in love with him and i feel so bad for her. she seemed to love him a lot more than her exes and we all know she’s a hopeless romantic at heart, so she was probably imagining marriage and babies with him and then he showed his true colors
april 1st, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by tatemcrae and 14,698,276 others
y/nofficial there’s always a fool, but i guess all’s fair in love and poetry… new album THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT. out May 14 🩶
but surprise! the first and only single, Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? comes out April 19 🩶
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user18 MOTHER DOES NOT PLAY!!! AHHH
user63 may 14th 💀 she said “i’m not fucking around, y’all WILL know who this is about.”
user9 significance of may 14th?
user63 @/user9 it’s jack’s birthday 💀
user00 OH SHE MUST REALLY HAVE SOME SHIT TO SAY IF SHE’S ACTUALLY DROPPING A SINGLE BEFORE THE ALBUM
user78 i wonder if jack feels stupid yet
user12 new y/n album before GTA6
user93 the vibes??? mother didn’t write an album, she wrote a EULOGY
april 19th, 2024
y/nofficial
liked by john.marino97 and 9,726,820 others
y/nofficial at this hearing, i stand before my fellow members of The Tortured Poets Department with a summary of my findings.
Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? out now.
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user72 i’m speechless
user2 “you don’t get to tell me about sad” SHE REALLY FUCKING DID THAT
user33 I AM IN SHOCK!
user94 MOTHER CALLED HIM OUT
user78 once again i ask, @/jackhughes do you feel stupid yet?
user61 dude just got surgery and she still came for his neck 😭
user09 i mean, not like she was gonna change the release date just because of that but it’s still so 😭
user22 “the scandal was contained….. at all costs keep your good name” she really spoke on the january spat, didn’t she?
user12 “WHO’S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME?”
user77 @/jackhughes you should be
john.marino97 🩶🩶
user82 oh he’s MESSY! i love it 💀
user50 tbh, i look at this single like a warning. it sounds like jack didn’t think it through before he broke her heart and didn’t think she would speak on him, but she’s warning him right now that he should be scared because she has a lot to say about him and their relationship
user31 she’s so— i love her
february 8th, 2025
y/nofficial posted on their story
february 10th, 2025
y/nofficial
liked by john.marino97 and 11,762,936 others
y/nofficial brand new, full throttle <3
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user93 i- did she just inadvertently tell us we’ve all been wrong about who So High School is about?
user77 this is the fastest she’s ever gotten into a new relationship and you know that means she has to be in LOVE
user04 AHHHHH Y/N AND JOHN MARINO
user82 how do you know it’s him? she didn’t even tag anyone and you can’t see his face
user04 @/user82 she posted john on her story a couple days ago! they’re on vacation together while he’s on bye-week!
user23 i don’t wanna get ahead of myself but,,, they met through jack, did they not? and now they’re dating? mother is messy
user51 is it messy? yeah, maybe- but people have already looked back through old interviews of his, and she’s been his celeb crush for a WHILE now. and i mean, hey, she’s dating someone only a couple years older than her now, one can only assume he’s more mature than j*ck
user92 the way she clings onto him 🥹
user88 she deserves happiness, i really hope he gives that to her 🫶
john.marino97 i knew what i wanted and i got her ♥️
#jack hughes#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes fic#jack hughes blurb#nj devils#nhl insta edit#nhl imagine#nhl fic#faithlynn’s writings <3#faithlynn’s insta edits <3
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cw: discussion of past parental death due to overdose, mention of drug use
Steve stumbled upon the article when he was helping Robin collect articles for a project for her Industry Studies course.
He didn’t think much of reading about another small time musician getting caught up with the wrong crowd, and overdosing or getting in a drunk driving accident. It seemed like a pretty common theme. It was terrible, sad, horrible, but he’d seen about 30 stories like that in the last two days and he was kind of getting numb to it all.
Until he saw the name Munson.
Until a picture of a woman with long, curly hair and Eddie’s smile stared back at him next to a headline that read: “Kentucky Country Queen Dead at 27.”
He read the article with tears in his eyes.
Elizabeth “El” Munson, a hopeful country singer and guitarist, was found dead in her home by her six year old son, Edward. The boy reportedly tried calling his father at work with no luck before finally calling his uncle, Wayne Munson.
Toxicology reports show that she overdosed on multiple illegal substances. At this time, it is believed to have been accidental and no foul play is suspected.
It has now been made clear that Elizabeth was seeking a divorce from her husband, Al Munson, but had not been successful as lawyers were unable to locate him until her funeral. Their son has been put in the care of Wayne until further notice.
Robin found him 20 minutes later, staring at the page with swollen, red eyes. She took the paper, read the article, and put it back in the files wordlessly.
“I don’t think he wants us to know,” she finally said.
She was probably right.
But Steve had grown pretty close to Eddie over the last six months, had opened up to him about his parents, his fake friends, his concussions and nightmares. Eddie had started opening up to him, too.
He thought he had, anyway.
He told him about how his mom died when he was young and his dad was awful so he moved in with Wayne. He told him about how his dad appeared every couple years looking for money or a place to stay and Wayne always turned him away.
But he never really talked about his mom, always said he barely remembered her.
Did he know what happened?
——
Steve asked Wayne the next morning.
He’d come by to pick Eddie up for a day with the kids, but Eddie hadn’t set his alarm and was still asleep.
Perfect opportunity to find out more.
“So. Eddie’s mom.”
Wayne tensed over his plate of toast and scrambled eggs. He didn’t look up, just took another bite of food.
“Does he know how she died?”
“Do you?”
“Newspaper said overdose,” Steve tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh. “Says Eddie found her.”
“Trauma messes with your memory.”
It was final, a statement that left Steve with more questions, but a certainty that he’d get no answers.
“Yeah.” He gulped. “I’ve heard.”
——
Steve doesn’t bring it up to Eddie for a while.
He figured Wayne’s reaction said a lot about what Eddie knew or would be willing to share.
But they were a little high and alone and Eddie’s hand was warm in his and his filter was broken.
“I’m sorry you had to be the one to find your mom.”
The air around them was thick. The silence was deafening.
“Me too.”
Eddie’s voice was quiet, nothing like his usual playful tone.
Steve immediately wanted to put this conversation in reverse, pretend his curiosity didn’t matter.
“I’m sorry.”
Eddie moved closer to Steve, his arm a constant pressure against Steve’s. His head leaned against Steve’s shoulder.
“Wayne doesn’t know I know how she died. He doesn’t know I know my dad gave her bad drugs, convinced her all the up and coming musicians were doing a new strain of heroin. She’d kicked him out of the house,” Eddie’s breath caught. “She shouldn’t have let him come back that day. I heard them arguing before I left for school. She told him she was finding a manager and recording an album and that she was divorcing him. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew it was bad.”
“Eds, you don’t have to tell me.”
“I know, Stevie. But you know everything else.” Eddie’s face turned until his nose and mouth were pressed against Steve’s arm. “I went to school. Didn’t think about it. Figured my dad would be gone when I got home and might come back in a few days once they cooled off. But when I got home, he was gone and my mom’s bedroom door was closed. And I opened it and there she was.”
Steve turned so he was face to face with Eddie, cupping his jaw and rubbing his thumb along his cheek in encouragement.
“I don’t even know why I tried calling the store first. I didn’t even know if he still worked there. But then I called Wayne and it’s like he just knew.” Eddie’s eyes closed for a moment. “Don’t think he’d ever gotten to our house so quick.”
“Did he know all this?”
“He knew enough. I stayed with him and then my dad gave up his rights. Lied to the counselor about what I knew so Wayne wouldn’t freak. Kept it up for a while,” Eddie let out a small exhale that slightly resembled a laugh. “I read the article about eight years ago. A kid in my class made a joke about me being an orphan because of the drug problem in America as if he even knew what that meant and I decided to see what the newspaper reported.”
“Do you play because of her?” Steve asked.
Eddie blinked back at him.
“I play for a lot of reasons. But I started because of her, yeah,” he whispers. “You’re the first person to ask me that instead of give me that look of pity.”
“I’m sad about how it happened, but giving you pity doesn’t change it. I’d rather hear how it changed you,” Steve whispered back.
They were close, legs intertwined, hands touching bare skin under shirts and on faces and necks.
“It changed everything for me. Wayne packed us up and moved us here as soon as he legally could. Probably for the best. Well,” Eddie gave a small smile. “Definitely for the best. Wouldn’t be here with you if he hadn’t.”
“Do you ever go back?” Steve did his best to ignore the fluttering in his stomach.
“Her birthday every year. She’s got a nice spot near her mom.” Eddie bit his lip. “It’s actually coming up in a couple weeks. Maybe you could come with me?”
“Me? Are you sure?”
Eddie nodded. “If it doesn’t weird you out that I talk to her. I like to give her updates on my life, Wayne’s life, music. Think she’d find it quite funny that I bring the guy I’ve had a crush on for two years.”
It takes a minute for the words to sink in.
“Two years?” Steve’s lips curled up into a smile. “I hope I live up to expectations.”
“I think she’d like you. She’d definitely make fun of me for having a boyfriend who wears polos though.”
“Is that how you’d introduce me?”
“If you’re okay with it.” Eddie leaned his forehead against Steve’s. “I know we haven’t talked about what we-“
Steve pressed his lips to Eddie’s, nearly knocking their noses together painfully in the process.
After the initial shock, they both relaxed into the kiss.
“I’d love to go. As your boyfriend,” Steve said after pulling away for air. “What was her favorite flower?”
“Gardenias. Always wore perfume that smelled like it. Why?”
“Because I have to impress her, right?”
“You realize she’s not gonna actually see or hear you? She’s definitely dead.”
Steve snorted. “I know. But she can still have nice things. Maybe us bringing her nice things in death is a way to apologize for the not nice things she had in life.”
“You’re a pretty incredible boyfriend, sweetheart.” Eddie kissed the tip of his nose. “And you now know more than Wayne, so it’s time for a pinky promise.”
Steve giggled before holding up his pinky. “I swear I won’t tell Wayne anything.”
“And you’ll kiss me whenever I want…”
“That’s a guarantee.”
“And you’ll let me win at Go Fish…”
“Not a chance, Eds.”
Eddie laughed. “Worth a try.”
Steve curled his pinky against Eddie’s. “So do you think she’d like me?”
“Oh. Oh god. She’d love you. You’re exactly who she’d want for me,” Eddie rolled his eyes when Steve flipped his hair back confidently. “And she’d braid your hair every night while you gossiped and sipped tea.”
“And what would you do?”
“Probably just soak it in. Appreciate having her and you around. You’ll just have to gossip with Wayne.”
“Wayne doesn’t strike me as-“
“Oh, he’s got you fooled! He’s a worse gossip than the ladies at the hair salon. Just ask him about the mailbox at the end of the road sometime. Make sure you’ve got an hour to spare.”
“Really?” Steve’s eyes lit up. “Is he home now?”
Eddie pulled Steve forward until he was flush against his front. “No and I have much better plans than gossiping with my uncle.”
“Oh?” Steve’s brow raised.
“It involves my bed and handcuffs. You in?”
“Hopefully you’re in.”
“God, you’re ridiculous. C’mon, now I’m even harder from your stupid flirting,” Eddie sat up and tugged until Steve followed. “Can’t believe this is how my night’s going.”
“Believe it, baby.”
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#wayne munson#picturing Eddie’s mom as someone similar musically to Wanda Jackson#she was big in her part of Kentucky#might’ve made it even if not for Eddie’s dad#cw: parent death#cw: mention of overdose#cw: mention of drug use#first kiss#getting together#angst with a happy ending#sorry for the sad part#they kissed about it at the end tho
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good luck, babe! | chapter 1
regina george x reader
summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.
a/n: if you couldn’t tell from the title, this fic is inspired by “good luck, babe!” by chappell roan. if you’ve never heard it, definitely check it out. updates will most likely be weekly. i don’t know how some of y’all have the time to update every day lol. as a general warning for the whole fic, it will contain homophobia, derogatory language, substance abuse, and unhealthy relationships. other than that thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy this first chapter!!
—————————————————————
Entering your third year of high school, you assumed you knew everything there was to know about North Shore.
Well, at least, how to steer clear of infamy. More specifically, Regina George and her shadows that followed her around like a pair of lost dogs. You knew the trouble and attention they brought with them, a constant trail of destruction that was almost as potent as the stench of their perfume. The secret to avoiding it was as simple as straying from the limelight. You kept to your group, stayed quiet, kept your head down. Didn’t do anything wild enough to trigger Regina’s predatory instincts. You couldn’t say you were afraid of her and her group, but honestly, harassment is the last thing you need as North Shore’s token plug. It would be plain stupid to garner more attention to yourself than necessary.
But even with all of that in mind, here you are, sitting in the principal’s office with enough anger in your chest to probably strangle the man sitting in front of you. Because you didn’t even fucking do what you’re being penalized for. But guess who told Mr. Duvall that you were taking pictures of girls changing in gym? Regina George. She could make up whatever she wanted and even the authority figures at this school would treat it like it was the holy grail. You stare at him with venom in your eyes as he explains to you that you will have to be suspended. For something you didn’t even do.
Regina was in your gym class. You had heard around that she was spreading rumors about you being a lesbian, but that’s not new information to literally anyone, so you didn’t especially care. Then people started giving you disgusted looks in the hallways, calling you some really nasty names, and even some of your close female friends started to avoid you. You didn’t know why until about 10 minutes ago. Apparently, you were the last person to know about your supposed photo collection.
When Mr. Duvall finally lets you leave, you feel the rage boil up inside of you before you can stop it. You’re going to get in so much trouble at home, and for what? Because the world’s most spoiled brat decided your reputation was the one to ruin this week? Does she even realize how her rumors can affect people? Obviously not, because she does it all the fucking time.
You’re way late to lunch, but the moment you step into that cafeteria, it’s like a wild dog being released into the ring. You skip on the lunch line and head straight towards the table where you see Karen Shetty and Gretchen Wieners talking with wide eyes to the blonde head of hair with her back to you. Regina. You lock on like a target, not glancing at anything else surrounding you. Your hands are bunched into fists at your sides as the anger rises up in your throat like bile. How dare she? How dare she completely make up this bullshit about you, get you suspended because of it? And why hasn’t anyone actually done something about it?
You see her turn around. Two ice blue eyes look up at you. Disgusted, maybe even a little confused as she sees you approaching her table. Because no one ever dares enter her territory. She thinks she’s above that. She doesn’t look at you more than a second, though, before your hands are ripping her off the bench by the collar of her shirt.
“What the fuck is your problem?” you practically snarl, your arms already dragging her towards the wall as you slam her against it. Your hands still grip the collar of her shirt, your anger almost palpable. You hear what you think to be Gretchen scream. The cafeteria descends into chaos around you. You don’t care. The only thing you’re concerned about is what’s in front of you right now.
Regina doesn’t even look slightly bothered. In fact, she cocks an eyebrow. Her eyes seem to glow with that malice now. Your hands grip the fabric of her shirt even tighter.
“Oh, no, did I hit a nerve?” she laughs, her eyes looking you over with a newfound disgust. Like you’re simply a piece of trash a wild animal found out it could not digest and spit back up. Like you’re beneath her. You hate the woman, but it’s almost impressive how controlled she is in moments like these.
“You’re just proving me right, you know. Just admit you’re the weird freak that everyone knows you are. I can’t stand a closet lesbo.” she sneers, pushing her face close enough to yours that you can feel her breath on your face.
Something in you snaps when she says those words. Because it’s not even true, and you’re the only person who seems to believe that. The anger’s hot in your chest. Its flames seem to carry your arms as you ball your right hand into a fist.
And you punch the Queen Bee of North Shore directly in the eye.
-
Your suspension was extended. Obviously.
You spend the next 2 weeks cleaning the house until your fingers peel and keeping up with your school work on your computer. People are talking about your fight with Regina all over Instagram and Regina’s acting like a total victim about the whole thing. People sending her their condolences and all that bullshit. As if she was dying and didn’t only get one punch to the face before someone pulled you off of her. It was your health teacher from last year; he seemed a little too eager to grab you and pull you off of Regina.
When you return to school, it seems people still believe those rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing rooms, because your peers are giving you the same sort of looks as before. They clear away from you when you walk past, but not in the worshipful kind of way they do for Regina. More like they’re disgusted to be around you.
Some people are impressed you stood up to her, though. You’re the first of your time. Janis ‘Imi’ike from your AP Lit class gives you a high five in the morning and you give her a big grin in return.
You see Regina in your gym class after lunch, and she looks as good as new. You’re a little disappointed. You kind of wanted to see her with that bright purple bruise on her eye that you’d seen all over Instagram. But there she was, looking like the perfectly crafted Barbie doll that she always seemed to be. Not even a stand of flawless blonde hair out of place. It made you mad. It’s like you did it all for nothing.
To your surprise, though, Regina ignores you. She doesn’t whisper to her minions while giving you dirty looks from across the room, doesn’t send them after you with a raise of her finger. It’s like you’re invisible to her. Honestly, you prefer it that way. You’re tired enough of this whole situation as it is. It’s a godsend she’s not making it worse today.
Coach Carr takes you all outside since it’s one of the last warm days until fall. You stick your Airpods in and walk the track, still keeping an eye on Regina. It’s not like her to not torment someone who got suspended because of one of her rumors. You don’t trust it at all, but she seems content with pretending you don’t exist. Since Karen and Gretchen aren’t in this class with her, Regina resorts to talking to the girls who aren’t quite Plastic, but are still high enough on the social pyramid for Regina to tolerate. You roll your eyes as they mindlessly follow her lead like a pack of lion cubs.
After a couple of minutes, you get bored and sneak off to the woods surrounding the track. Your coach wasn’t the most attentive person in the world, so it was pretty easy. You needed to smoke or you were going to go insane. You take an Airpod out and grab the cart out of your bra. Have to keep it non-suspicious.
You only plan on taking a few hits since it’s so concentrated and you still have another class after this. You come out here so much that you don’t even think about it. Until you hear a voice behind you.
“Are you smoking weed?”
Your neck nearly snaps when you whip your head around. Your heart sinks back down to your chest from your throat when you see Regina George standing there instead of Coach Carr.
“Jesus, what the fuck?” you immediately respond, your voice wavering a bit as you hadn’t even considered someone had seen you slip out. The weed had just started to hit and you could feel it amplify the fear in your chest, even though Regina wasn’t technically immediate danger. Although, your heart begins to race faster as you realize she will definitely try to get you in deeper shit because of this.
Regina begins to open her mouth before you immediately cut her off. “Before you go and tell everyone on this side of the country, everyone already knows. It’s not gonna do anything to ruin my reputation.” Your voice shakes similarly to your legs out of the pure shock of her finding you. You hate feeling cornered, but after your little tussle with her, you know how badly Regina must want to destroy you. Her eyes stare at you unflinchingly, unaffected by what you said. She looks smug enough to make you nervous. You don’t know if it’s because of the weed or your pounding chest, but it seems like minutes pass before Regina says anything else.
“What about Mr. Duvall? Does he know?” Fuck. You’re not getting out of this, are you? Your mouth begins to dry, the spit thick on your tongue as you think of a response. Your dad was already mad enough at you. You didn’t need this.
“No. But I can’t imagine it’ll go well for you if you tell him. I sell to half the school, including Karen. Everyone will be pissed if I get caught.” you respond, already feeling defeated, but you keep your tone searing. You’re taller than her; hopefully it makes you intimidating enough for her to have mercy. Regina doesn’t respond right away. All she does is raise an eyebrow, a smug smirk on one side of her mouth as you watch her consider her options. She’s flawlessly gorgeous in a way that’s enviable. But you kind of need her to not take away your source of income.
“Look, I smoke behind the baseball field every day after school. I’ll give you some for free if you just keep your damn mouth shut for once.” Your voice is almost pleading now. You wish she wasn’t so dead-set on ruining your life.
Time only gets slower as Regina’s smirk begins to widen. It’s a win-win situation for her, and she knows it.
“Fine. But you better not try to kiss me or anything.” she says slowly, spitting out the words like they’re poisonous.
You feel the relief pool in your stomach as soon as you hear those words. It must be obvious by the look on your face, because Regina laughs at you. She has that angry, disgusted sort of look in her eyes that you can’t quite figure out the reason for. It’s a shame because she’s so beautiful. Your body takes multiple seconds to keep up with your thoughts until a question crosses your mind.
“Did you follow me?” you ask, your voice a little too loud as you see her head turn back around.
“Obviously. I knew you weren’t sneaking off to do anything good,” she shoots back, the repugnant expression back on her face. She curls her lip at you before stalking off back to the track field, blonde hair flowing behind her.
How the hell did she even see you leave? Maybe you weren’t the only one paying attention to what the other was doing after your fight with her. But, why? Did she seriously think you were going to try and swing at her on your first day back?
You guess you’ll find out at 3:00P.M. behind the baseball field.
#mean girls#mean girls 2024#regina george#regina george x reader#regina george 2024#mean girls x reader#fem reader
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Is this how you request a fic? I have no idea but I’ll try. I’m craving Regina George content. Can you please write something where reader is apart of the plastics but she’s not mean like the rest of them and that’s why Regina likes her. When Cady shows up and Regina has an interest in cady it’s too make reader jealous but instead cady ends up liking reader who distances herself from the plastics and then Regina gets jealous and admits her feelings so reader doesn’t end up with cady. If that makes sense? Thank you!
Craving Your Attention (Regina George X Plastic!Reader)
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Summary: Regina George is the queen of North Shore High and she doesn’t like to share her toys, even if she doesn’t really play with them.
A/N: kinda toxic!regina even tho thats not really a surprise. slight cady x reader, she likes you instead of aaron (also aaron doesn’t exist teehee). The girls arent homophobic bc cady tells gretchen she likes reader and regina ends up with reader (saying this bc idk if you’re gonna read this with 2004 regina or 2024 regina in mind, and obviously 2004 was a different time lmao) content warning for diet talk but it’s just part of one scene. Heavily relied on the mean girls (2004) script for this fic, so it's almost all written centered around Cady. all in third person which felt a lil weird to write because i usually write in second person lol idk if anyone’s gonna want a part 2 but imma lyk rn that im not planning on writing a part 2, mainly bc this took so painstakingly long
***
Everyone at North Shore High knew about Regina George. They’d be stupid not to. She was practically royalty.
A queen bee was nothing without her little worker bees. First was Karen Smith. She seemed to give a whole new meaning to the word ‘clueless,’ but she was friendly. In more ways than one.
Then there’s Gretchen Wieners. She was Regina’s eyes and ears, whether it was wanted or not. All she wanted to do was please her leader.
And finally, there was Y/n L/n. If any of the plastics were to be deemed approachable, it was her. She was Regina’s right-hand girl, maybe even a bit more than that. But no one ever brought that up.
But then Cady Heron came to North Shore.
“Is he bothering you?” Regina tilted her head as she looked at the redheaded girl and the familiar boy who was talking to her. Y/n, who was sitting next to Regina, looked up from her food in curiosity. Regina didn’t usually talk to anyone outside of the table during lunch. The girl made a nondescript noise, so Regina turned her attention to the boy. “Jason, why are you such a skeez?”
Jason rolled his eyes, but tried to seem polite.
“I’m just being friendly.”
“You were supposed to call me last night,” Gretchen pouted, looking over her shoulder at Jason.
“Jason.” Attention was brought back to Regina with the simple call of his name. She wore a sweet smile, which meant that Jason was probably about to get a bite taken out of him. “You do not come to a party at my house with Gretchen and then scam on some poor, innocent girl right in front of us three days later. She’s not interested.” Regina then turned to the redheaded girl. “Do you wanna have sex with him?”
She looked shocked, giving an immediate no.
“Good. So it’s settled.”
“You can go shave your back now,” Y/n finished, and the four plastics waved him off. Jason walked away, but not before muttering an insult to the girls.
“Good one,” Regina said quietly to Y/n, who couldn’t help but smile a bit at the small praise. Before she could reply, Regina’s eyes followed after the red-haired girl, who was now starting to walk away. “Wait.” The single word made her stop in her tracks and look back. “Sit down.”
Regina moved her hands, signaling Gretchen and Karen to move to the sides of the lunch bench to make room for this mystery girl. After some more encouragement, she sat down.
“What’s your name?” Y/n asked sweetly, trying to ease the girl’s nerves.
“Cady.”
“Why don’t I know you?” Regina asked, looking at Cady curiously.
“I’m new,” Cady replied. “I just moved here from Africa.”
“What?”
“I used to be home-schooled.”
“Wait. What?”
Cady took a second, wondering why Regina kept saying ‘what.’ She didn’t think it was that confusing.
“My mom taught me at home-”
“No, no.” Regina laughed. “I know what ‘home-school’ is; I’m not stupid. So, you’ve actually never been to a real school before?”
As she spoke, Regina leaned more and more forward towards Cady. And as the conversation continued, Y/n wondered why Regina was taking such an interest in her. Regina never cared about anyone who passed by, too involved in the latest gossip session Gretchen had started or in Y/n’s appearance. Not that Y/n really noticed that; she was busy thinking about Regina to see that Regina was thinking about her. Either way, she didn’t understand why the blonde was suddenly so fascinated by this new girl.
“You’re like, really pretty.”
Oh… That must be why.
Y/n seemed to tune the rest of the conversation out, too wrapped up in Regina’s compliment towards Cady and the bright smile she wore while giving it. She didn’t know why it bothered her. It’s not like Regina belonged to her. If anything, Y/n, along with the rest of the Plastics, belonged to Regina.
Even when Regina brought Gretchen and Karen in close to speak to them and Y/n, leaving Cady awkwardly leaning back to give them more privacy, Y/n didn’t care much to listen. The gist of the conversation was that they wanted Cady to sit with them at lunch for a week, something they had never considered doing with anyone else in this school.
“Okay.” Regina started as Gretchen and Karen relaxed back into their seats, and Cady leaned back in. “You should just know that we don’t do this a lot, so this is, like, a really huge deal. We wanna invite you to have lunch with us every day for the rest of the week.” Regina wore a grin that meant she was up to something, but Cady didn’t seem to decipher that, and the rest of the girls didn’t know what it meant.
“Oh, it’s okay—” Cady’s tone seemed to indicate that she was about to decline, but Regina interrupted her before she could.
“Coolness.” The bell rang, and Regina’s eyes darted over to Y/n before going back to Cady. Her mischievous smile remained present as she, Gretchen, and Karen grabbed their trays. “So we’ll see you tomorrow.”
The three Plastics stood up and left the table, leaving Y/n in a slight daze and Cady confused about what had just happened. Y/n suddenly looked around, realizing that her friends had left without her, but the new girl was still with her. She figured that she should say something before leaving her alone. She didn’t have to be mean or unpleasant just because Regina seemed to like Cady.
“On Wednesdays, we wear pink.” Y/n said it with a timid but sweet smile, trying to get over the revelation that the girl she loved was setting her sights on someone else. Her hand patted Cady’s a few times before she stood up and picked up her tray. “Welcome to North Shore.”
As Cady watched Y/n leave, and as Janis and Damian dragged the redhead away to interrogate her about her interaction with Regina, she couldn’t help but feel warm. Maybe public school wouldn’t be so bad.
***
The next day, Cady was slightly nervous to sit with the Plastics. She felt like a double spy. Janis and Damian were under the impression that Cady was doing it for them, to listen in on Regina’s secrets and relay them back to her friends so they could laugh at the pathetic and superficial nature of it all. And sure, that was the main reason she was sitting with the girls. But Cady also returned to the table so she could bask in a new light, Y/n.
But living in girl world came with a bunch of rules.
“You can’t wear a tank top two days in a row, and you can only wear your hair in a ponytail once a week. So…” Gretchen laughed lightly, seeming a little nervous for no reason as she looked at Cady, who was wearing her hair in a ponytail. “I guess you picked today. Oh! And we only wear jeans or track pants on Fridays.”
“Which totally blows in the winter,” Y/n muttered before sipping her Diet Coke.
“Now,” Gretchen started again, “if you break any of these rules, you can’t sit with us at lunch.” Cady seemed surprised, but Gretchen continued. “Not just you! Like, any of us. Okay, so, like, if I was wearing jeans today, I would be sitting over there with the art freaks.” She said it with a grimace, pointing over to a table a few feet away from the girls before looking back at Cady. “Oh, and we always vote before we ask someone to eat lunch with us, because you have to be considerate of the rest of the group. I mean, you wouldn’t buy a skirt without asking your friends first if it looks good on you.”
Everyone nodded except for Cady, who was processing all of these new rules she had to follow.
“I wouldn’t?”
“Right,” Gretchen said with a definitive nod. “And it’s the same with guys. Like, you may think you like someone, but you could be wrong.”
“One hundred twenty calories and forty-eight calories from fat,” Regina interrupted, reading a food bar that she had grabbed. She looked at her friends inquisitively. What percent is that?”
“Uh… forty-eight into one hundred and twenty?” Gretchen suggested, not really sure of herself.
“No, I don’t think so, Gretch,” Y/n said, trying to think of the correct answer.
“I’m only eating foods with less than thirty percent calories from fat.”
“It’s forty percent,” Cady said suddenly, proud that she was able to do the equation in her head. Everyone looked at her, expressions varying from impressed to confused. Cady suddenly felt the need to show her work. “Well, forty-eight over a hundred and twenty equals X over a hundred-”
“So then you cross multiply to get X!” Y/n finished off with a grin, thrilled that she knew what Cady was talking about. Cady smiled back at her with the same excited energy, although looking a little more subdued. Not only was this girl super pretty and friendly, but she also seemed decently smart. Maybe Janis was wrong about these girls.
“Whatever.” Regina looked at the two girls suspiciously. She tossed the food bar onto the table and stood up. “I’m getting cheese fries. Y/n, come with me.”
Taken back by the sudden command, Y/n stumbled out of her seat and followed Regina. Cady’s eyes followed her until she was out of sight, and she sighed quietly when she couldn’t catch a glimpse of the girl anymore.
“So!” Gretchen startled Cady with her enthusiastic voice and a hand on her shoulder. As she turned to look at her, Cady realized that Karen was also gone from the table. She must’ve gone to the bathroom or somewhere else. “Have you seen anyone you think is cute yet?”
Cady didn’t know how to answer. There was definitely one person that came to mind, but she didn’t know if she should say the name. Gretchen might react badly if Cady told her, which would most likely lead to her getting kicked out of the Plastics.
But at the same time, she didn’t want to lie.
“Well… there’s this one.. girl.” The last word was quiet and hesitant, but Gretchen picked up on it.
“Oh my gosh, who is it?” She asked excitedly. “Do you think it’s just like, a phase, or is it more serious?”
“I dunno.” Cady shrugged. “I haven’t known her too long to be sure.”
“Who is it?” Gretchen leaned forward in her seat, completely invested in Cady’s answer. It took the redhead a long moment of hesitancy to open her mouth.
“It’s Y/n…”
“No!” Gretchen straightened up, looking absolutely horrified. She looked around, ensuring none of the other girls were back yet. “You can’t like Y/n. Not only is she a part of the group, but… Okay, you didn’t hear this from me, and you’re, like, totally forbidden from ever bringing it up. But Regina is really possessive over Y/n. They’ve been best friends for, like, forever, and Regina chases off anyone who tries to so much as ask her out. And it’s not my place to say whether or not it’s more than friendship, but if I had to say something, there’s definitely something going on between them.” Gretchen took a much-needed breath, shaking her head slightly to clear her jumbled thoughts. “Look, the point is, you shouldn’t date friends. Especially Regina’s friends. But don’t worry, I’ll never tell Regina or Y/n what you said. It’ll be our little secret.”
Gretchen gave Cady a sweet smile, and that seemed to be the end of their little conversation. But for the next few days, Cady kept thinking about it.
She didn’t want to get on Regina’s bad side. That would mean no more things to tell Janis and Damian and no more seeing Y/n. And she also didn’t want to freak Y/n out. But just because Cady wasn’t allowed to like Y/n didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to look at her. Or think about her. Or talk to her.
A few days later, when Cady was with Janis and Damian at the mall, Janis asked when Cady would see Regina next. She said it felt weird to spy on her and that she didn’t want to do it anymore. And sure, it being weird was part of why she wanted to stop. But mainly, it was because Cady had started getting so distracted by Y/n that it was difficult to focus on Regina. Which was strange, because the blonde girl was so alluring. But Janis reassured Cady that Regina would never find out about her double agent status, that it would be their little secret.
So many secrets.
***
“Hello?” Cady held the phone up to her ear, wondering who was calling her at this late hour.
“I know your secret.” Cady stiffened at Regina’s voice coming through the speaker. She internally panicked, trying to figure out what to do. How did Regina figure out about Cady’s spying?
“Secret?” She decided that playing it cool was the better move. “What secret?”
“Gretchen told me that you like Y/n.” Cady relaxed at the fact that Regina had learned about her other secret, before freezing again. Right now, she wondered if it would be better if Regina knew about the spying. “I mean, I don’t care, do whatever you want.” Regina didn’t sound like she didn’t care, but Cady didn’t bring it up. “But let me just tell you something about Y/n: She’s, like, never gone on a date before. It’s not that she’s not pretty or anything, but no one’s ever really been good enough for her.”
“Oh?” What did this mean? Did Regina deem Cady good enough for Y/n after so many others tried and failed? Or was this a set-up?
Honestly, Cady was so happy for Regina’s blessing that she didn’t really care.
“I could talk to her for you, if you want.”
“Really? You would do that?”
“We’ve been friends since like, pretty much birth. I know exactly how to play it.” There was a moment of silence, and Cady could picture Regina picking at her nails. “But wait. Aren’t you mad at Gretchen for telling me? Because if you are, you can tell me. It was a really bitchy thing for her to do.”
“Yeah, it was pretty bitchy, but I’m not mad.” Cady was a little mad, but she didn’t feel like saying that. “I mean, it’s better she told you instead of Y/n. I dunno, I guess she just likes the attention.” Cady didn’t know why she said that last part, but it had just spilled out of her mouth.
“See, Gretch? I told you she’s not mad at you.” Cady was a bit confused, but then another voice spoke.
“I can’t believe you think I like attention!” There was a click, and Cady assumed the Gretchen had hung up. She had no idea she was even listening.
“Okay, love you. See you tomorrow!” Cady could hear Regina’s smile, and then there was another click followed by a dial tone, showing that Cady was now the only one on the line. She then hung up herself, processing the three-way call she had just survived.
And then after that, Cady realized that she had gotten Regina’s blessing to try to pursue Y/n.
***
“What day is it?” Y/n asked, looking down at her worksheet. She didn’t usually do homework at lunch, but lately, some of her classes had been kicking her ass.
“It’s October third,” Cady answered almost immediately, catching the suspicious eyes of Regina and Gretchen.
“Thanks, Cady,” Y/n said, looking up at the girl and giving her a sweet smile before returning to her paper.
“I dunno why you don’t just ask one of the Mathlete dorks to do it for you,” Regina said, looking over Y/n’s shoulder. “They’d probably even do it for free.”
“We’ve talked about this, Regina. If my teacher didn’t catch on, it would still totally bite me in the ass when I’d have to do a test all by myself.”
“You need help with math?” Cady asked, subtly leaning closer to Y/n. The girl looked at Cady, now completely distracted from her work.
“Yeah! I used to get it, but trig is crazy hard.” Y/n sighed, delicately rubbing at her tired eyes so she didn’t mess up her makeup. “I feel like I’m never gonna get it.”
“I can help you!” Cady said, excited over this opportunity. She had always excelled in mathematics, and now Y/n needs help with that exact subject? It seemed like fate.
“Really?” Both Y/n and Cady missed the slight glare that Regina was giving them.
“Oh right, Cady’s like, a total nerd.” They also chose to ignore Regina’s snide comment before sipping her Diet Coke.
“That would be amazing, Cady! Maybe I could come over after school today or something?”
Cady was about to say yes, a million times yes, but Regina butted in.
“Y/n, you’re coming over to my house today.” It didn’t really feel like Regina was reminding her of forgotten plans. Instead, it sounded like Regina was coming up with a reason for Y/n to be unavailable. Cady’s suspicions were confirmed by the confused look Y/n gave the blonde.
“I am?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh… Well, how about tomorrow?”
“Perfect!” Cady spoke quickly and enthusiastically before Regina could say another word.
***
Over the next month or so, Cady tutored Y/n a few days every week. It quickly became their favorite part of their days. After helping with a few problems Y/n was stuck on, the two girls would get distracted by conversations about whatever they wanted to talk about. Neither of them felt the need to filter themselves in fear of being made fun of by one of the other Plastics, mainly Regina. Topics ranged from the latest gossip to future plans to their favorite things in media. If Cady had never heard of something Y/n brought up, which was the case nine times out of ten, the tutoring session would turn into a movie night or music party.
“Oh my gosh, so…” Y/n and Cady were in the middle of watching a chick flick that Cady had never seen when Y/n suddenly spoke. “I’m having a Halloween party at my place. We usually do it at Regina’s, but for some reason, she didn’t feel like doing it this year. Are you gonna come?”
“Yeah, sure.” Cady’s response made Y/n smile brightly, a sight that Cady could never get sick of.
“Awesome!” Y/n sat up from her slouched position, her excitement waking her up from her slightly tired state. “It’s a costume party, which’ll be a lot of fun. I can give you a flier with all the info tomorrow. Even though I know you’re invited, you need the flier to get in. It only admits one person, so don’t bring anyone else with you.”
“Grool.” Y/n blinked in slight confusion, and Cady realized what she had said. “I… I meant to say ‘cool,’ and then I started to say ‘great.’”
Y/n giggled, which made Cady’s cheeks heat up.
“Right. Well, grool.” The two laughed, and then Y/n looked down at her watch. “Oh my gosh, it’s so late. I should probably get going.” With the help of Cady, Y/n gathered her things. “See you tomorrow!” In a flash, Y/n kissed Cady’s cheek before walking out of the room and leaving Cady’s house. Cady’s cheeks felt like they were on fire, and she lightly touched the cheek Y/n had kissed.
***
One thing that no one told Cady was that on Halloween, many girls opted for very revealing costumes rather than actual costumes. So when she arrived at Y/n’s house, she stuck out like a sore thumb in her dead bride attire while her friends wore tight clothes and animal ears.
“Why are you so scary?” Gretchen asked with concern, looking at Cady’s appearance with wide eyes.
“It’s Halloween,” Cady said with a shrug, not knowing what the problem was.
Suddenly, a hand touched Cady’s arm, making her jump. But she quickly relaxed when she saw who was touching her.
“You came!” Y/n squealed, bringing Cady in for a hug. The redhead felt a bit flustered by the contact, plus seeing Y/n in her slightly revealing outfit. When they broke the embrace, Y/n held Cady by the shoulders, surveying her outfit. “And you’re a… zombie bride…?”
“An ‘ex-wife.’” Cady replied, using her fingers to air quote.
“Well, I love it.” Y/n finally let go of Cady, although she wouldn’t have been opposed if she kept holding onto her. “You want something to drink?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Y/n squeezed Cady’s arm for a quick moment before turning around. She weaved her way through the crowd to get to the kitchen, where a shit load of different drinks were scattered on the counters. She started mixing a drink for Cady when she felt a presence behind her.
“What the hell is Cady wearing?” Regina asked, squinting to see Cady from across the room.
“She’s a zombie bride!”
“She looks like a freak.”
“Regina!” Y/n set down the bottle she was pouring and looked at the blonde. “Be nice.”
“Whatever.” Regina rolled her eyes, pushing her hair off her shoulder before leaning on the kitchen counter. “You know, you should probably be careful around her. She has a giant crush on you.”
“What?” Y/n’s eyes snapped to Regina, immediately curious. “How do you know?”
“She told me. She tells everybody. It’s kinda cute, to be honest. She’s like a little girl.” Regina laughed, and Y/n tilted her head and raised her brows, silently asking for more details. “Like, she writes ‘Y/n plus Cady’ and stuff like that all over her notebook. And she made this shirt that says ‘I heart Y/n’ and she wears it under all of her clothes.
“Oh, come on.” Y/n sighed and rolled her eyes, figuring Regina had been joking. “That’s not funny, Regina.”
“I’m serious! She’s, like, obsessed with you. And who can blame her?” Regina’s hand reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair away from Y/n’s face. When Y/n looked at her friend, she was suddenly closer than before. “I mean, you’re gorgeous.”
“Regina.”
“If I’m being honest… I hate the way she looks at you.” Regina grabbed Y/n’s chin before she could look away, forcing them to maintain eye contact. “It makes me sick. She should know better than to think she has a chance with you.”
“What are you saying, Regina?” Y/n’s voice was barely a whisper, but the blonde heard her loud and clear despite being in a crowded room with blasting music and semi-drunk teenagers.
“I’m saying you’re mine, Y/n.” With every word, Regina inched closer and closer. “I don’t want you to be with Cady. Or with anyone else.”
Regina closed the small gap between her and Y/n’s lips, wrapping her arms around Y/n’s body to keep her close. After the wave of shock washed over her, Y/n reciprocated the kiss. Neither of them cared about any of the people around them watching. Including Cady, who watched from across the room with watery eyes and a breaking heart.
Cady had lost Y/n to a competition she didn’t even know she had. Y/n had finally gotten the girl she had been wanting for years after being kept at arm’s length away. And Regina had once again ruined someone else’s happiness for her own.
***
Regina George Taglist: @wedfan2 @pyro-les @natashamaximoff-69
#agaypanic#regina george x reader#regina george#mean girls#mean girls x reader#rachel mcadams x reader#rachel mcadams#renee rapp#renee rapp x reader
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Can you please write anything you want with Aegon and Tully!reader?I love this house and no one use them to write images🥺
ʚ the lovers ɞ
Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader
I also like House Tully,even though i don’t like Cat and Lysa but I’m more than willing to write a Tully reader.
Aegon and Y/n are married,now that he is king he doesn’t have much time to spend with his wife so she takes the matter in her own hands.
A little smutty piece that i don’t know how to feel about😪
Thank you for requesting and let me know what you think💕
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The midday sun was burning in the sky with all the violence this time slot could offer on a mid-summer day.
The hot rays of the sun were beating on the streets markets,roofs and the chairs at the corner of their balcony.If she squeezed her eyes,Y/n could even see the air vibrating on the railing.
Till a moment ago,in the shared maritals chambers of their majesties a small servant girl was using a fan,moving the hot air from one side to the other,without really doing much to bring relief.
The temperature was so high that even the floor had cooled,and staying there lying on the ground was becoming counterproductive,as well as uncomfortable.
Y/n turned on her side,grunting when the hard stoned floor met her bones,the heat that killed her every initiative to get up was trailing up her bare legs till her back.
Not too bad... from the new location she could admire a much better view than the sky paled by the heat.
Aegon,the new King of the Seven Kingdoms and her adored husband,was sitting at the large table in the middle of their chambers a few steps away from her.The thin shirt sleeves rolled up over the elbows,the unbuttoned collar and a wrinkle of concentration between the eyebrows.In front of him a stack of backlog reports to complete.
His cheeks were redden thanks to the heat and the wine,pale hair stuck to nape of his sweaty neck and lilic eyes moving fast through the pages in his calloused hands.He was so beautiful when he was assorted,becoming king had changed his demeanor,taking the responsibilities and duties on his shoulders more seriously.
Y/n didn't understand why he decided to get to work with that heat,especially when it was Sunday morning and they could have done anything else.Also,the fact that she hasn't had his attention for almost an hour made her want to go there and tear up that paperwork in front of his beautiful eyes.And she would have done it even if she hadn't been too hot even to stand up.
Of course,it would have been great if he had gotten up to come to her instead.The two of them had been married for three years and knew each other for six,Y/n knew that Aegon would’ve done that.Seeing her,so beautifully tempting in her white transparent nightgown,long hair wild on her shoulders,full red lips and soft cheeks with sparkling needy eyes.He would’ve pounced her like a starving animal.
But that was prince Aegon,the same person that took her on Dragonstone beach,promising her that he would made her his queen,the mother of his children and that made love to her like it was their last night on earth.King Aegon was a different story,he had his head on his shoulders and his mother and grandfather on his back constantly.Ruling a whole continent was hard, tiring and took all of his attentions.
«Aaaegon.»Y/n called him,stretching the first syllable of his name,with a sweet voice.
«Mmh?»he replied with a distracted murmur,without even looking up from the table.
«Do you still have a lot of those?»she asked him,watching the pile of papers becoming smaller not fast enough.
He shook his head«I'm almost done.»
«You said that even half an hour ago!»she emitted a sound of affliction.
«I would do it faster if you got up and came to give me a hand,instead of standing there complaining.»he scolded her,not in the same teasing and playful way,but almost irritated.
Being Queen wasn’t easy and it was something that Y/n never wanted.Her mother had planned that future for her since she was a child,promising her to prince Jacaerys in the beginning and then to prince Aegon.The only thing that her mother taught her about marriage was being a good and docile wife and give her husband healthy and male heirs.No one taught her how to be a queen,not even her husband mother.
Y/n was good at being a gentle and loving wife,she supported and took care of her husband and gave him two beautiful sons,heirs to his throne.But she missed him,she knew he loved her very much and that they should have other children to strength the blood of the dragon,if only he wasn’t so busy all the time.
Not at all satisfied with the kind of reactions she was getting,Y/n pouted and reached out towards the golden cup lying on the floor:the only thing in her range that had a temperature of less than thirty-six degrees.She brought the cup to her mouth and the last residue of cold wine now vented into her throat.
When she finished,she passed the empty cup behind her neck and chest,continuing to observe Aegon out of the corner of her eye.
As much as he was trying to keep his eyes fixed on those papers,it was evident that his body was also suffering from the heat.The silver locks stuck to his sweaty forehead as his shoulders lifted and fell under the weight of long,fatigued breaths.He put the ink down for a second and sipped his wine too.
Y/n watched him arch his neck and swallow,adam’s apple moving rhythmically over the larynx.She bit her lower lip in front of the show,her hand automatically slipped below the hip line.
Fuck… “Family,duty,honor”as her House words said,looked so good on him.The ethereal aura of his royal presence,the way he carried himself and spoke in the throne room or in the Small Council,the crown on his head.Even though she missed care free prince Aegon,the King was something so divine to look at.
Seriously... they could have done anything else in the moment,she could still give him another child and show him how much of a great job he was doing as a ruler.Literally anything but staying there on the floor while he worked.
An idea caught on her mind.Suddenly the heat stopped being a problem.
«Aegon.»she called again,voice now lower.
And again,he replied without looking at her«What do you want?»
Y/n opened her mouth,then closed it.She reflected on what were the best words to use,those that would be best to persuade him.It was supposed to be something provocative,but not too much.Something sober,but impactful.
She rubbed her legs,the ache between them,and uttered candidly:«You,my King.»
She couldn't help but smile triumphantly, because at those words Aegon finally looked up from the table.His deep purple eyes stared at her,a spark of involvement and desire shining under his eyelashes as he took in all of her appearance.
It didn't last long.
«Not now.»was his calm answer,as he looked away and brought the focus back to his work.
As he spoke he wrote something with his pen and Y/n thought she wanted to bite his fingers.
«Also it's too hot for it at this hour,»he added,«better tonight,when the sun is down.»he continued.
Y/n stretched her limbs on the floor and lazily curved her back like a cat«I thought that dragons preferred the heat.»she smiled,licking her dry lips.
«Yes.But little,cute fishes like you are too sensitive for it.»the smirk in his voice made her shiver and smile even more.
He wasn’t wrong,she was still a pure maiden when they first laid together and since that time,as he showed her the immense and colorful world of pleasure,her appetite had been insatiable.Especially with a husband like him.He would take the lead and have her crying underneath or on top of him in less that five minutes.
«Hmm... I don't know if I'll be able to wait until tonight.»she purred with a vibrating throat.
Aegon scoffed,tracing the paper in his hand with a finger,rereading the same sentence for the third time«Then go on our bed,put a pillow between your legs and do it yourself.What do you want me to tell you?»he sounded exasperated.
They both were,pent up and dying by the hot weather.
«If this was a dirty talk attempt,know it was really terrible.»a laugh escaped from her.
Aegon stopped responding,bowed his chin and went back to immerse himself in the silence of concentration.
Y/n accepted the challenge.
It wasn't the first time she found herself playing with Aegon self-control since he was crowned and so far she had never lost.She had often enjoyed making him restless and starving for something else during dinners with his family:fleeting caresses under the table and winking glances between the glass bottles.
But it was easy to shake him like that when they were in public,surrounded by other eyes.The fact that they were now alone in their room,the only spectators and participants of their game,made Aegon less tense,and therefore more firm on his positions.
It would have taken a lot more to move him.
«All right...»she whispered,more to herself than to him.
Y/n stretched on her back on the floor,oriented her delicate hand vertically on her soft belly,and slid two fingers under the hem of her small cloth,trailing up her body the thin layer of her nightgown.She began to touch herself nonchalantly,lazily at the start,describing slow and interspersed circles around the clitoris.She kept her head turned to the side,ready to catch the slightest sign of distraction from Aegon.
She had to wait five long minutes before the pen slowed down on the paper.
Y/n grabbed the opportunity and began to speed up the work of her fingers.Her body was giving in to stimulation:a pleasant tingling was building up in the lower abdomen as moisture began to cover her fingertips.When a choked moan of his name formed in her throat she did nothing to repress it.
That's when Aegon raised his eyes for the second time.
His gaze on her was a mixture of surprise,opposition and embarrassment,with a small spark of lust.Y/n pointed at that.
«Y/n.»he began,with what clearly wanted to be a warning,but which did not go beyond her name.
She saw him licking his lips and swallowing.
«What?»she bent her lips into a smile«Wasn't what you told me to do it myself?»she asked sweetly.
Aegon blushed in spite of himself,he felt like a twelve years old again«Yes,but not here on the floor.»he said.
«Why?Am I distracting you?»she said with a fake tone of concern.
«What do you think?»he sarcastically said,his eyes not leaving the hand that was still moving between her legs.
The ache growing in his pants and the fire tickling his lower belly,made her proud of herself.The look he was giving her,filled with lust and irritation,told her that she was winning.
«Well,my love,as a refutation of your thesis:so far you didn't notice at all.And it's not like i started at this very moment.»she informed him with a breathy and witty response.
The blush on Aegon face reached the tip of his ears,but his gaze remained of ice«You've been... silent... so far.»he noted,trying to find a comfortable position on the chair.
«Oh?So if I keep my mouth shut I can continue without any problems?»Y/n immediately asked.
It took him a while to answer her.He stopped staring at the spot under her navel where her hand lay and took a big sip from his cup full of cold wine.The two countermeasures seemed to work.With his mind a little more lucid and the trail of freshness in his esophagus,he started talking to her with the same firmness as before.
«Absolutely not.Get up and go.»he said with the same seriousness he had adopted in the last year as a ruler.
In front of his serious face,Y/n smiled even more.He was cracking and was trying so hard to keep it together.
“As if you didn't want me here.”she though.
Y/n huffed«I don't want to.I'm too hot to move.»she said,returning to distractedly moving her fingers.
Aegon made an effort with all of himself not to look at her.He took the pen in his hand and began to turn it between his fingers to have something to engage his eyesight in.
«Your logic doesn't make any sense.»he pointed out to her.
And in fact no,it didn't have it.But in all honesty Y/n was starting to lose the thread of the argument,the need for release was becoming more pressing and Aegon had not yet moved from there.In the absence of a witty response to counter,she raised her hips and moaned his name deliberately,trying to appear as provocative as possible while doing so.
A few seconds of silence followed,then the ticking sound of the pen on the table,and finally a sigh.Y/n didn't bother to hide her immense satisfaction in finally having Aegon body bent over her.
«Can you stop?»He blew on her lips.The baritone voice with which he said it threw a burning pang between her legs.
Y/n raised her chin.The game of the challenge that made her blood tingle in her veins«Make me.»
Aegon wrinkled his forehead.He knew exactly what game his wife was playing,and he also knew he would win.He always won.He was the one in control.
«Gods,you can be so childish sometimes.»he said with a long exhale.
«And you can be serious and snoty like an old man... sometimes.»she told him with a childish attitude.
Yes,sometimes.
Aegon mind went involuntarily to the other times,where it was the exact opposite.Between him and Y/n it worked like this:they almost always ended up at the antipodes,at the two ends of the line,exchanging places with each other all the time.There was almost never a balance.And when he was there it didn't make it easier for him to define their relationship.
Sometimes Y/n was a little girl,hungry for affection and attention.An accomplice mistress who kissed and touched him when she didn't have to,who stretched out her fingers under his arm and who filled his glass when he didn't look.
Sometimes it was him,with his hands sneaking under her gowns,his lips trailing dow her neck in the empty hallways.Playing with her foot under the table.Whispering dirty thing in her ears and watch her blush in front of everyone.
Other times Y/n was an adult woman,with a deadly seriousness in her eyes and a melancholy over something lost.A kind of younger sister - or even a mother - who seemed to have lived a hundred lives,who applied patches to him even on the smallest scratches,and who stroked his hair when she realized he had cried.
Other times it was Aegon who takes the responsibility,guiding and sheltering her.Much like a king would,a husband who duties were to make her a happy wife,a old friend to keep her company and loving to read and sit together in their solarium.
When they were like this,when they took a part and left the second one for the other,Aegon remembered those few years of difference that separated them,remembered how much ambiguity there was in what they did and in the behaviors they adopted towards each other when he promised to marry her on that beach,the first time they had laid together on the cold sand when he was drunk and guided only by lust.
And an unpleasant cold ran on his back. Despite this,he had never done anything to change things.Because Y/n was still very young and was tremendously good on both sides,because - after all - condoing by that ambiguity was convenient for him... because he liked it.Because he did kept his promises and married her.
He liked to play lovers,he thought,looking for her lips.For two like them it was easier than really being king and queen.
Aegon lips were warm,but Y/n welcomed them as if they were the freshest and purest of waters.She liked it too.The lover was her favorite role.Not the wife,the mother or the queen,but his lover.
«The balcony... is open.»Aegon felt a duty to remind her of it,of all the servants that could be outside,snatching words from her increasingly insistent kisses.
She stroked his cheekbone with her tongue«Good,some fresh air.»she replied,letting him know that she didn't care.
«You are shameless.»he told her as if he didn’t taught her to be like this,but the balcony remained open and the papers abandoned on the table.
Y/n smiled as she felt his hand run down her stomach to get to surround her wrist.Her wet fingers slipped away from her throbbing sex,and her hand was carried to the height of their faces.The lack of contact caused her a bit of annoyance,but it took a back seat when Aegon put her hand close to his lips.
He began to place soft kisses on her knuckles, without stopping for a second looking at her. Slowly.Meticulously.Y/n closed her eyelids and breathed a sigh.She contemplated in awe of his lips opening,then the index and middle fingers disappear between them.Aegon moved his tongue under her phalanges,sucked them, enjoying the taste of her melting in his mouth.
«Aegon...»she called him,he groaned around her fingers in response,without interrupting his occupation.
«Take this thing off,»he continued,pointing to the skimpy nightgown she was wearing.«It's too hot.»
«You first.»Y/n whispered out and he smirked.
Receiving the message,Aegon began to unfasten his belt with his free hand,then his boots,and the first buttons on his shirt.He soon realized he couldn't do much else.Surrender,he let go of her fingers to allow both of them to undress.
Although he was now used to seeing her walking around their chambers with just one or two garments,Aegon would never stop appreciating his wife body.At that moment the sun in its apogee illuminated her nudity like white marble,skirting the curves of her profile with light.
If beauty was something describable in words,Aegon would have described it that way.
He stood to contemplate the play of light on her skin as he went back to lying down,unaware that similar thoughts were going through his wife mind.
In fact,the more Y/n looked at Aegon,the more she was convinced that there could be no such thing as graceful and aesthetically pleasing in the world.She would spend hours observing the way his moon locks cast shadows on the clear features of his face,or tracing the veins paths on the muscles of his arms.
As she thought about these things Aegon caught up with her,taking her wrists with his hands and slowly crossed them over her head.
Y/n gaze lit up,not surprised and intrigued.
She had never shown a particularly dominant personality during sex;she usually just indulged in his initiatives,following the instructions of his voice and body,doing and letting herself do whatever he decided.
Aegon was never displeased,on the contrary.In that way of behaving in intimacy he found the same confidence as when they risked their lives together: proof that she was ready to put herself in his hands in any circumstance.
That’s why seeing herself caged to the floor by his body,with his austere eyes scrutinizing her from above,made her lower belly languish in the same and delightful way.The idea of being the one who abandoned herself in his hands once again was tempting,having her king finally giving her all of his attention and devotion.
At the expense of his expression,Aegon 's grip was not very firm and the slowness in his actions betrayed a certain insecurity.It’s had been a hard week and he was tired.
Y/n caught him in a kiss to reassure him.She could still taste herself on his tongue,along with a vague aroma of cherries and wine.She was already addicted by the combination.
Aegon moved aside first,his lips ran down her jaw to the curve of her soft neck.Y/n did not oppose it,waiting for his next move with a rapid beat.She felt him adjust his grip on her wrists, then place his knee in the middle of her legs.
A soft command tickled her ear«Grind on it.»
Y/n gasped.She felt on fire,little fishes like her were too sensitive to the heat and her body's reaction was unexpectedly immediate.Her hips lifted obediently,then lowered,then went back up,until she found herself rocking against his knee at a fast pace.
Aegon kissed her neck with his mouth open, feeding on her accelerating heartbeat.He could feel her skin moistening at the point where she met his leg.
«Good girl.»he whispered in her ear,hot breath tickling her.
He bit her shoulder to suppress a moan,she arched her back and her breasts brushed his chest.His erection was throbbing in pain,but Aegon gritted his teeth.He thought of those backward papers that would force him to do the wee hours tonight,and pushed his femur forward,wishing for a little revenge.
Thanks to the previous stimulation,Y/n was already on the vege of an orgasm.She groaned restlessly,debated her hips and calves to the ground,squeezing his thighs around the bone bump.
Aegon free hand traveled along her waist and went to surround one of her tits,stroked the perky nipple with his thumb,soon replaced by his mouth.
It was hot.Y/n felt it inside and out,in every single particle of the air and in every single fiber of her body.
Sweat dripped from Aegon hair on her chest, his mouth left hot trails where he touched and his breathless breath condensed on her skin.But oh,he never wanted to stop.
Y/n moved her hips faster,craving that sweet, liquid pleasure that was heralding.
She was so close,so close...
«Stop.»the sound of the word reached her ear indistinctly,all her senses blurred,her body continuing to move tirelessly.
Just a little more...
«I said»Aegon grip on her wrists tightened,his hot palm pressing on her pulses«Stop.»with such an authority that made her even wetter.
One hand stuck her hip against the floor and Y/n stopped,stunned.Aegon bowed to one side and removed his knee,leaving fire in her lungs and her belly burning for release denied.
He looked at her,with the power of a man and curious like a child,his purple irises reduced to two thin circles around his dilated pupils.He waited in silence for her to calm down,then relaxed his fingers and released her wrists.
Y/n reached out for him,numb arms circling his neck to bring him closer.A compressed energy that still permeated it from head to toe.
«Aegon,please.»she whined,kissing his jaw and holding him.
«I know baby,you were close?»He asked her,kissing the reddened inside of her wrists with a mest expression.
She moved a lock of hair behind his ear and nodded enthusiastically«Yes.»with a cute pout on her lips.
Aegon nodded in turn,looking slightly relieved.
«I'll make you come,only if you promise that you won’t bother me and let me work for the rest of the night.»he caressed her cheeks,his thumb playing with her lower lip.
«B-but-»she tried to protest.
Aegon hand gripped her face,their noses touching«Will you do that?Will you be a good girl and do what your husband asks you?»he murmured on her lips slowly.
«Yes!I promise!»she immediately answered,trying to get him to kiss her again.
He ran his hands over her hips for a few seconds,focused,as if he was about to make an important decision.Y/n wasn’t surprised when from his mouth came another command,albeit more docile than the previous one.
«Turn around and lay on your stomach.»he ordered,before kissing her and caressing her hair.
She did as he had told her,turning around to give him her back.
The floor was warm and she was so sensitive that the mere pressure of her flattened belly against the stoned pavement was enough to snatch a moan from her.Meanwhile,a finger began to trace her spine,slowly flowing the vertebrae from the coccyx to the cervical.
Y/n curved her back under that touch,while looking for more friction under her hips.
«So desperate to get fucked on the floor?»Aegon murmured on the back of her neck,before licking the salt from her skin.
«F-fuck yes.»she whimpered out.
«Oh»Aegon said amused«I thought i married a proper lady not a slut.»his shoulders trembled with a laugh.
Y/n face was crimson red«I’m not a-a…a slut!»she answered embarrassed,but she knew he was right.
«Mmh,i should’ve know since you had let me fuck you on that beach before we were even betrothed.»he kissed and bit the skin of her back making her tremble.
He kissed her between her shoulder blades,with one arm separated her abdomen from the ground and held her to himself,hip to hip.And Y/n felt him,damp and hot,stinging her entrance.
«Please.»Y/n called for him,hands digging on the floor and wiggling her ass up to get more friction.
«Behave,or I’m leaving you here.»he spanked her,the sting of the slap and the way he caressed the redden skin of her ass made her choke on her saliva.
«With how eager you are,the castle should be filled with our children.»Aegon continued,massaging her.
«Maybe you should give me another,»Y/n breathed out,closing her eyes.
She felt him curse under his breath and holding her closer«Is that what you want?Another kid to keep yourself occupied with?»the idea of seeing her full with his child made his head spin.
The anticipation was a tongue of fire that tickled her from the inside,licking the walls of her stomach in an agonizing way.
She didn't have time to perform in the plea she had thought.Aegon grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him as he sank into her. The movement was unique and fluid,facilitated by abundant lubrication.
Her mouth opened,the air scratched her re-stuck throat.He began to move slowly,with soft and precise blows,while with his tongue he explored her mouth and swallowed her moans.
Her neck hurt from the position,but she still stretched out backwards when he brew the kiss to pay attention to her shoulder.Aegon moved his lips over the curve of her neck and marked the skin with his teeth.He bathed her with his tongue,feeling genuinely guilty.
He thought maybe he wasn't cut for a more dominant role in sex,but the moment he did,Y/n voice shouted«More!Please!»And his mind was silent.He was the one in control and yet he would give her anything she wants,even another child if that meant having her happy.
He anchored her to his body with one arm and used the other as a lever to increase the pace and intensity of the thrusts.And every time she asked to go deeper,faster, stronger,something stretched inside him,like a rubber band on the breaking point.
It was his turn to moan.To feel how warm,wet and tight her welcoming cunt was for him every time.Made by the gods for him.
The open balcony remained a distant detail,the world restricted to that fierce union of their bodies,a bubble of heat,blood and pleasure.Just like when they got married and unite House Targaryen and House Tully.
«You’re there already,baby?»he was out of breath as he felt her clench around him again.
All she did was nod and the hand he was pressing on abdomen dropped lower.One,two,three circles and the pleasure poured into her,dense and glowing like lava, poured out from that point deep that he kept hitting with his thrusts.
Above her Aegon looked at her with fascination and desire.The torso raised to admire her body contracting in irregular spasms,his head tilted to grasp fragments of her face.
«You are...so beautiful...Y/n.»he moaned.
Y/n hoisted herself on her elbows,bent her arm to reach his head,and kissed him as if he was the most precious thing in her life,because he was.He really was the love of her life.
Aegon moaned in the kiss,feeling Y/n last contractions taking him to the limit with her«You want it inside?»he asked her urgently.
«Yes.»she pleaded again.
Her approval,in a seductive tone and oblique smile,was the last straw.He poured into her,moaning and growling on her shoulder,until his muscles gave way.
They lay facing each other on the sticky floor, their limbs suffering and heated by the effort. Only when they both stopped having a shortness of breath,Aegon pulled her close to him to let her lay her head on his chest.
«We are going to have another baby.»Y/n suddenly murmured,placing a hand on her stomach.
Aegon didn't seem upset by the information.He remained silent looking at her,as if at the moment there was nothing else in the room that deserved more attention than her.And Y/n lived on moments like these,the exclusivity of his gaze on her,his needy touch on her skin, shared kisses,his worries.
«I pray for a girl.»he said then«Baeron and Rhaego are going to drive me insane.»he continued thinking about his sons and how much they were like him.
This time he wanted a baby girl that,even though she would probably look like him,taking in the Valyrian features,she would be just like her mother:sweet,gentle,a little playful.
«They just miss you.»she whispered,almost feeling guilty«Like I do.»she admitted with a sad tone.
Aegon held her closer,he felt ashamed for neglecting his wife and his own children.As soon as he become king he forgot that first he was a husband and a father.
«I’m sorry for interrupting your work-»she started to apologize.
«Don’t.»he stopped her immediately«I’m the one who’s sorry for not being around lately.»he said kissing her temple sweetly.
Y/n smiled warmly«How about we have dinner together tonight with the kids?»she asked hopefully.
He nodded,it felt like forever since he had last spent time with his little family all together«Sound perfect.»he kissed her on the lips one last time before closing his eyes and drifting to sleep.
#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd spoilers#house of the dragon spoilers#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen imagine#aegon smut#aegon targaryen#king aegon#aegon targaryen x reader#hotd x reader#hotd smut#house of the dragon smut#aegon x reader#smut#x reader#dance of the dragons#team green#house targaryen#house tully#house of the dragon x you#house of the dragon x reader#hotd imagine#fluff
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Imagine older retired Pro-Hero Dynamight who hasn’t really been in the public eye since his early days. Leaving his successful Agency in the hands of Red Riot after the press come for him in a vengeful witch hunt when he fails to save twenty innocent civilians who are crushed when a building collapses due to his quirk misfiring. It doesn’t matter that the villain was in the line of sight and dodged at the last minute, it doesn’t matter that he himself tried to hold the building upright to stop it from collapsing— they just want someone to blame.
So twenty years later— when the line up of I’m a Celebrity is announced, the public are shocked to see his name on the lineup. Even more so when he actually goes into the jungle, far more calm and collected compared to the brash, aggressive Pro-Hero they remembered. Blond hair now tinted a silvery grey, messy stubble beginning to shadow his face as he spends time in the jungle with his other camp mates. Many of the posts online talk about how shocked they are that he’s still alive, but most talk about how disgusted they are that he’s in the jungle this year. It brings up a lot of negative memories from what happened that day, and it does nothing at first to help his image. But of course, Red Riot is the ever supporting best friend on social media as he posts tweet after tweet in support of Bakugou.
But a few days in, he begins to open up about his life after that moment— things that he hasn’t shared with anyone outside his circle before— things the public don’t know about what happened that day. Sharing a vulnerable side of himself that no one expected, and it makes them start to root for him again all those years later.
But most of all they start rooting for you and him together. Finding out that he’s never had a serious relationship, and that he’s been single for years. And you, as one of his camp mates, have been unlucky in love for quite some time. Always managing to choose the wrong guy, or your career being in the public eye scares most potential suitors away.
He’s older than you— a fact that makes you wonder if he’d even be interested in you as you continue to crush on him inside the camp. The public go wild when you confess your crush on Bakugou to the girls you’re sharing the camp with, their squeals enough to alert your other camp mates but you hope Bakugou doesn’t work out why. And you have no idea that he actually feels the exact same way you do.
So the public watch the way you and Bakugou interact while you’re in the jungle, having those late night talks by the fire when everyone else is asleep, being tasked to do chores together and the supportive words he shouts specifically for you whenever you’re voted to do a trial together. And the best part about it is neither of you even realise the public are rooting so strongly for the two of you to get together because you’re completely cut off from everything inside the jungle.
So much so that the public are even trying to demand that there’s a King and Queen of the jungle this year because they want you both to win together.
#idk why we’d be famous#maybe a reporter? or something idk#but I just love this idea pls#I’m a celeb bakugou
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STEEB SENDING AUDIOOS
MDNI this entire blog is 18+
this…. this thought…. ok cos he’s a bit of a slut, steve knows what he’s doing already, okay? he doesn’t even need any training from you - he fucking knows that it’s all about the whines and moans and while he’s vocal in bed with you, it’s a whole nother level if he’s sending something when he’s alone— like just the thought of you listening to it wherever you are, clenching your thighs and getting all flustered, gets him all the more whimpery, rambles and rambles pouring out his mouth
he’s mean with the timing as well. you’re out with your friends, at a restaurant catching up for one of their birthdays and you hadn’t gotten to see steve the last couple days too- both of your shifts getting in the way. steve’s been that usual level of clingy when you guys spend a couple days apart, texts every couple of hours saying i miss you sweetheart >:( and i love you btw! and that oh my god it’s been literally so long since i’ve seen you i’m forgetting what you look like because he is the worlds biggest drama queen — but when it comes to dinner time, your phone buzzes in your back pocket and you fish it out innocently, figuring it’s another sappy message from your bf - and you’re half right! it is a message from your boyfriend but it’s a message that says i miss you :( followed by an voice message
you stare at it for a whole minute, a hot spark burning low in your gut— it could be that he went out with robbie and has had a couple drinks but it’s a little too early for him to be that trashed. just to be safe, you excuse yourself to the bathroom and silently curse yourself for not bringing any headphones as you slip into the empty bathroom, sliding into a stall for privacy just in case — pressing play, you hold the phone up to your ear with the volume on low and strain to listen.
for a moment it’s quiet, then you can hear some shuffling, like steve’s rearranging himself and then his low voice rasps through your speaker, “hey baby,” there’s another shuffling sound before he speaks again, voice a little breathier than usual, “know you’re out with your friends, m’sorry, just keep looking at how goddamn pretty y’look tonight— that photo you sent?” he pauses, inhaling jaggedly, and there, in the pause, you can hear a faint lewd noises and the spark in your tummy catches, burning hotter. he’s jerking off- he’s fucking sent you a voice message of him jerking off while you’re out with friends, he’s evil. “fuck,” he huffs shakily, the sticky sound of his hand on his cock getting a little louder, his pace a little faster, “i can’t stop looking at it, at how gorgeous you look tonight, just wish you were here.”
you can’t see him but your imagination gives you plenty of fuel as steve’s shuddering breathes turn a little closer to moans, a whiney noise slipping out as he thumbs over his slit, “miss you, honey, s’just miss you so much— ah” you startle, realising you’re still in public when he lets out a particular loud moan and it echoes inside your stall. you can’t bring yourself to pause it though, just turn down the volume a click — and cross your legs tightly, holding the phone closer. bastard. he knows exactly what he does to you.
“wish it was your hand, you always- mhfm- fuck, you always treat me better, treat me so good,” he whines, more and more shallow moans reverberating through your phones speaker. you swallow heavily, feeling arousal start to pool in your tummy right as steve starts to pick up the pace properly, the squelching noises louder than ever and his moans all but whimpers now, your name amongst every one— he gets all gaspy as his orgasm gets closer and closer, the noises quieter as you realise he’s dropped his phone away from his mouth, focusing on getting himself to finish- it only makes you more hungry for his noises, holding the phone close and just when you hear him whisper your name pleadingly, like he always does before he cums, the door the bathroom opens.
you jump, scared by the sudden noise, and your phone clatters to the floor— the scuffle hides the final of steve’s pitiful noises as you frantically scoop your phone off the floor and pause it, fingers tapping wildly on your screen until the noise stops. you clutch it to your chest and there’s a moment to breath when the person who’s entered calls out your name — it’s one of your friends checking if you’re alright but considering the clatter of your phone, she hazards a good guess, “god, were you on the phone to steve? you guys are the clingiest couple i’ve ever met.” and you huff an awkward laugh, “ha, something like that- hey, i’ll be right out, gimme just a sec,”
a breath of relief escapes you when her feet turns and leave back out to the restaurant and you finally peel your phone back— feeling a flush of embarrassment as you realise you’ve somehow sent a random keysmash back to steve’s message when you dropped your phone. he’s replied back, saying exactly the reaction i intended ;) and then have a good night honey :) i’ll see you soon, i love you x
#BOYFRIEND#what a bitch. i would devour him whole i think#jay writes#steve harrington x reader#steve x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader smut
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I have an ideaaa so maybe you like to write about it. Imagine harry having a long term girlfriend or even wife but they are so private and harry protects her so much that nobody in the general public really knows anything about her or their relationship and the fans eat up every single information or content they can get about her and their relationship.
Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh Mysterious Girl.
masterlist || ask me anything <3
authors note - this is my first time doing an instagram concept of sorts and i wanted to make it easy on myself and use manips of harry with someone who i chose queen selena, please don’t be harsh on me and enjoy. 🫶
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2013.
liked by username, username and 413 others
harryupdates, Harry spotted going on a park walk with a mystery girl in London today!
tagged, harrystyles
view all comments,
username, who is she?
username, sorry but no
username, she’s actually so pretty!!
username, right?
username, his little beany 👉👈
username, they legit look like they could be siblings
username, they look so beautiful together
username, what part of London is this?
username, it was Hyde park!
username, if they’re dating then they make such a hot couple
username, PAPA
username, her names (Y/N) I’m not sure how old she is or what her job is but she’s from London
username, (Y/N) is such a cute name!
2015.
liked by username, username and 673 others
harryupdates, Harry and (Y/N) spotted at Louis’s mums wedding today!!
tagged, harrystyles, yourinstagram
view all comments
username, power couple right there!!
username, they attended her wedding together?
username, I mean they are dating so it would explain things 🤷♀️
username, it’s never been confirmed that they’re dating
username, his outfit is making me feel so many different thoughts
username, I don’t get what the hype of them is, she’s not even that pretty
username, don’t be so rude!
username, just because your jealous doesn’t mean that he can’t be happy
username, we better get the photo that she took on her phone
username, her Instagram accounts private so I highly doubt we will
username, I actually love them
username, she’s so gorgeous for literally no reason
username, imagine they got married as well
username, my life would officially end
username, if they got married they wouldn’t last, she’s probably a gold digger or something
liked by username, username and 1,381 others
harryupdates, Harry and (Y/N) arriving at the last ever one direction performance today!
tagged, harrystyles, yourinstagram
view all comments
username, we love a supportive gf
username, her smile is actually adorable
username, I spoke to her when they were arriving and she was actually one of the nicest people I’d ever spoken to
username, what did you say to her?! we need details!!
username, I said that her and Harry make a really cute couple and she said thank you and we have each other a hug
username, I need to meet both of them one day!
username, I can’t believe it’s the last show already
username, there outfits are actually so pretty!
username, I love the fact that we haven’t seen them together in almost five months and they just suddenly app at together out of no where
username, every time I see a notification that you’ve posted I hope that it’s something ti do with them
username, sometimes I just Google both there names and scroll through pictures of them
username, I don’t get why they get so much hate, I love them together !!
2017.
liked by username, username and 4,319 others
harryandynupdates, A photo montage of (Y/N) supporting Harry at the Dunkirk Premiere.
tagged, harrystyles, yourinstagram
view all comments
username, her red dress is so cute !!
username, her head resting on his shoulder is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life
username, it’s officially confirmed that they’re dating
username, they look so in love
username, if they ever broke up I don’t think I’d be able to live
username, the kiss on the lips is making me feel a multitude of different things
username, I’m having heart palpitations over here
username, can they adopt me?
username, CONTENT CONTENT CONTENT
yourinstagram, thank you so much for creating this, I’m putting this as my lock screen as we speak. ❤️
username, (Y/N)!
username, the queen has spoken!
username, she commented, I repeat she commented !
username, she basically confirmed that they were dating
username, it’s been confirmed for ages we just never wanted to believe it.
liked by yourinstagram, jeffazof and 542,108 others
annetwist, Merry Christmas from my family to yours!🎄🎅
view all comments
username, I want to be part of there family Christmas so badly
username, seeing photos of (Y/N) actually make me so happy!
username, she’s so pretty for literally no reason
yourinstagram, thank you so much lovelies, it means a lot ❤️
username, I want there roast dinner
username, (Y/N) CONTENT (Y/N) CONTENT
username, isn’t Harry pescatarian?
username, doesn’t mean that the others can’t have turkey?
username, all the stockings on the fire place 🥹🥹
gemmastyles, one of the best Christmases ever! x
username, gem!
username, the better styles right there!
username, (Y/N) and Harry are legit couple goals
username, you and Gemma are mother and daughter goals
yourinstagram, one of the best Christmases I’ve ever had, thank you for having me. ❤️❤️
username, she’s so cute, I love it!
annetwist, it was my pleasure, darling. x
username, she’s part of the family, omds I’m sobbing 😭
username, the photo of (Y/N) and Harry in the snow!
username, CONTENT, MAMA YOUR FEEDING US
username, (Y/N)s officially part of the annual Christmas photo
username, she’s winning at life right now
username, (Y/N) OUR QUEEN! 👸 👸
2019.
liked by username, username and 6,310 others
harryupdates, Harry speaking about (Y/N) in his recent interview with Zane Lowe!
“I met my fiancé when we were just eighteen and didn’t officially start dating until I gained the courage to ask her out at a mutual friends party, she’s my best friend and always will be, she’s my biggest inspiration and honestly don’t know what I’d be doing if I hadn’t of met her…I didn’t really think I’d ever be in love, not in this degree anyway. My whole family adore her just as much as me and that’s all I could ever ask for.
she knew what she was getting into when we started dating and that’s what I think made us want to keep our relationship so private, I don’t want her exposed to all the paparazzi knowing the cruel things that they can say, I like to think I’m an open book and seeing how she is with my life styles, and my fans makes me love her even more, which I didn’t think was at all possible.”
tagged, harrystyles
view all comments.
username, FIANCE?
username, you kept that one quiet mister!
username, (Y/N)s not even that pretty, he deserves better
username, literally stfu pls and thx
username, get a life
username, he’s so happy
username, I love that his family love her as well, that makes her even more special!
nicolasgrimshaw, Its' me! I'm the friend!!
username, NICK!
username, LOVE THAT <3
username, nick the match maker
username, his biggest inspiration, sobbing on the floor
username, currently digging my own grave as we speak
username, he deserves to be with someone who can deal with his celebrity status, she’s obviously to weak if he has to say that about her in an interview
username, keyboard warrior
username, if she had an issue with his life she would have left a long time ago
liked by gemmastyles, nicolasgrimshaw and 431,481 others
annetwist, Happy Birthday sweet heart, here’s to 25! 🥂
tagged, yourinstagram
view all comments
username, she calls her sweet heart, I'm sobbing!
username, hey Anne, I was wondering if you could adopt me, <3
username, don't ask me why this made me so emotional its literally just a picture
username, her smile 😭😭
username, shes legit so pretty for real 💗
username, we finally found out her age!
username, was she smiling at harry when this photo was being taken?
yourinstgram, ❤️️❤️️❤️️
username, QUEEN!
username, this so so sweet!
username, this family is actually so sweet
username, Sorry everyone I'm new and don't know who she is can someone tell me?
username, she's Harry's fiancé, her names (Y/N)
username, thank you !
username, sorry Anne she's not your sweetheart, she's our sweetheart!
username, she still exists?
username, she always has and always will
gemmastyles, 👑
username, my heart hearts please this is too much
username, YN CONTENT MY LIFE IS NOW A HAPPY ONE
username, that's literally my reaction every time I see a new picture of her
2020.
liked by username, username and 8,917 others
harryupdates, LEAKED PHOTOS OF (Y/N) AND HARRY. SOMEONE HACKED ANNE'S ICLOUD AGAIN!
tagged, harrystyles, yourinstagram
view all comments.
username, no wtf?
username, who hacked Anne tf?
username, these photos are cute and all but i think the family would really appreciate if you didn't repost them everywhere
username, as much as I hate the fact anne got hacked, these photos are actually adorable
username, the fifth photo
username, they're so in love it actually hurts my chest☹️
username, delete these right now!
username, unfollow!
username, the photo of them laying in the grass
username, knowing she was with him the day that photoshoot took place is actually so freakin cute!
username, this is the one time i'm not happy i got a picture of (Y/N)
username, who hacked anne like get a fucking life
username, (Y/N) content has never made me feel so sad
username, in the fourth photo, you can see Anne just wanted a photo with her son but she just had to photo bomb it.
username, the smile on Anne's face tells me she doesn't care.
username, this is actually sickening
username, as much as I hate what's happened and the fact there privacy's been exposed, this drama is eating me up
username, take these down right now
2023.
liked by username, username and 4,194 others
harryandynupdates, (Y/N) was spotted in the crowd at Harry's Cardiff Show today supporting him!
tagged, yourinstagram
view all comments.
username, I LOVE HOW SUPPORTIVE SHE IS
username, she's so happy to be there omds
username, having major fomo over here
username, I knew she was at all his other shows but no one ever got a photo, so thank you to whoever for blessing us with this <3
username, it was me, I was with my sister and she recognised her straight away, she was in the private pit with Jeff and Glenne.
username, I need to party with her so bad
username, like legit it's on my bucket list
username, god blessed us with her
username, she seems so care free like it's actually adorable
username, the man on the left of the photo looks like gino d'acampo
username, I CAN SEE IT!
username, YOUR ACTUALLY RIGHT!!
username, she's his biggest supporter
username, she's just like me!
username, she's his biggest hype women!
username, why is she pulling that face?
username, I've never been more in love with her like wtaf?
username, making me cry seeing how happy and carefree she is being
username, seeing her so happy makes me so happy
liked by username, username and 9,104 others
harryupdates, "I CAME HERE HOPING THAT I WOULD SEE (Y/N) BUT I GOT YOU INSTEAD!" Harry reading a sign at the concert tonight and answering with:
"You came here to see my wife? Hate to break it to you sista but she's not here tonight, she's got a stomach bug and was crushed when the medic told her not to leave the bed, so sorry but you'll have to put up with me instead!"
tagged, harrystyles
view all comments.
username, WIFE?!
username, nah he got married?
username, IM ACTUALLY SOBBING LIKE WTF?!
username, I KNEW THEY WERE ENGAGED AND ALL BUT WHEN THE FUCK DID THEY GET MARRIED?!
username, now they can finally adopt me?
username, this content of him and (Y/N) was not something I thought I'd be seeing in 2023.
username, I'm actually so happy for them right now
username, Harry deserves to be happy, and (Y/N) is the perfect person for him
username, literally no one likes her its probably a publicity stunt
username, a publicity stunt that's lasted ten years?!
username, CONGRATS
username, she's in it all for the money
username, CONTENT I REPEAT CONTENT
username, how long do you think they've been married for?
username, I'm thinking some time between Christmas and when tour started up again
username, is this just another way for him to make money?
username, he has a wife?
username, the next thing for him to achieve is becoming a dilf
username, the world would officially end when that happens
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#musicforastylesrestaurant#harry styles#harry styles angst#harry styles au#harry styles blurb#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles masterlist#harry styles fake ig#harry styles headcanon#harry styles x oc#harrystylesdrabble#harry styles fake social media#harry styles writing#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harrystylesxreader#harry styles one shot#harry styles x yn#dad!harry#dadrry#harrystylesxyn#harry’s house
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checkmate
cowboy like me chapter nine
hi sorry it’s late please don’t hate me 🥲 would just like to note- reader's pasta is gluten free, alright? i have had too many gluten-induced traumas to write about it anymore. she is a gluten free queen. thanks
parts 1-8 on my masterlist here, n my ao3 here. love u all the most!!!
pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader
summary: joel steals you away during a family meal to give you a telling off...in the form of a quickie
warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) pining reader, bratty reader, brat tamer joel, spanking, oral (m receiving), face fucking, dom!joel, orgasm denial, theft of underwear, loose mention of someone cheating, alcohol, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, marty robbins
word count: 8.1k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
“Know you can take it, baby, you’ve done it before. That’s my girl.”
You whimper in response, mouth full of his cock.
“Keep makin’ those pretty noises, whole hotel’s gonna be wonderin’ what’s goin’ on up here.”
He allows you a second to pull off of him, gasping for air when your mouth’s free again.
“Want ‘em to hear,” you choke out, lips slipping back down his cock.
The water dances to-and-fro, kissing the lip of the pool and splashing onto the concrete at your feet. It’s windier than normal today, trees whispering overhead, breeze taking your hair and lightly tossing it around.
You’re sat out back on a lounger, waiting for Joel to come pick you up. Joel and Sarah, that is. Picking you and your dad up. Be nice if it were just Joel, wouldn’t it? You and him, alone together again. Out on a date, or even just following him around, side by side in his truck as he goes about his day. His hand on your thigh, pretending to roll his eyes at your music choice.
As if that would ever happen. As if that could ever happen.
He and your dad have organized some dinner to celebrate yours and Sarah’s return home; some hotel resort with a restaurant looking out over the river. Your dad couldn’t remember the name of it. Said it was all Joel doing the booking.
You can still fucking hear him. Your dad. His voice lulls through the open kitchen window, the wind carrying it to your ears almost comically. You wish you could bat it away. He’s had the same Marty Robbins song stuck in his head all morning. You’d finally reached breaking point when he’d graduated from just humming it to full-volume singing, even doing his own impression of the guitar.
And now it seems that sneaking out to the backyard hadn’t rid you of the damn song either, no matter how loud the trees may be rustling.
Joel said he’d be here by now – he’s late. You slink off to the back gate to slip out front and wait for him there. And maybe also to escape your dad’s voice. No offense to the guy.
A couple minutes to six, his truck pulls up by the curb you’re perched on. Sarah climbs over the front seat to the back, and you join her.
She scoffs when you slam the door shut. “You’re eager.”
You shake your head in response, warning her with a roll of your eyes not to ask. She gives you an understanding nod and your eyes turn to Joel.
“You’re late.”
He looks back at you in the rearview mirror. “Not my fault. Traffic. We left twenty minutes ago, didn’t we?”
Sarah’s lip curls. She shrugs a little. You know he’s telling the truth.
When you turn back, Joel’s eyes are still on you, expression a little softer. A greeting. Making up for the fact he can’t wrap his arms around you, pinch your nose affectionately, kiss you to say hello. You smile back at him.
“That watch a’ yours runnin’ slow, Miller?”
Your dad’s voice is like a fucking foghorn. Sarah covers her mouth to stop a laugh from escaping her lips. He sweeps down the driveway toward the truck and you lean back in your seat. Quiet moment ruined.
Joel lightly chuckles and then gives you one last hazardous glance in the mirror before pulling off, ignoring your dad’s teasing. Probably for your benefit.
The relief of a quiet journey doesn’t last long, though. Barely five minutes in, your dad picks up the humming again.
“Dude,” you groan, “will you quit that? For the love of God.”
“It’s stuck in my damn head,” he chuckles, arms crossing defensively.
You roll your eyes again. “So your plan is to plague us all with it, too?”
“Pretty much.”
“What’s he singin’?” Sarah asks, leaning forward.
“Marty Robbins. Old song.” The lack of tone in Joel’s voice and the quick shake of his head as he says it tells you he ain’t the biggest Marty Robbins fan either. A voice inside you thanks God, like it even matters what music he’s into.
“Never heard of ‘im.”
“Lucky you,” you breathe, and your dad holds up a finger over his shoulder.
“Heard that,” he says.
“’s why I said it.”
Joel’s shoulders jerk with a laugh. “You’re in a real mood today, aren’t you?”
Your head falls against the window, bumping along with the road as Joel drives.
“Hold up a second,” your dad rounds on him, “you ain’t showin’ your kid real music, are you? She doesn’t even know Marty Robbins.”
“I ain’t puttin’ her through the pain of knowin’ him.”
A smile forms across your lips. Just another thing you two agree on. Another little string connecting you both, separating you from the rest.
You almost snort at yourself. Counting strings.
Sarah interrupts your train of thought when she requests the radio be put on. Joel turns the dial up and she sits back, victorious. You stifle a laugh. But even Taylor Swift doesn’t fully drown out your dad’s voice – she sure doesn’t stop the way he bobs his head as he sings to himself. It’s helpful, all the same.
You and Joel have been quite literally counting down the hours until you’re alone together. Alone for a whole weekend. Each morning, you’ll text him to announce it’s one less day. And he’ll reply some witty comment, some crude joke, or else a thumbs up emoji which usually meant he was working, or had company and couldn’t text. Company meaning eagle-eyed Sarah.
It’s been almost a whole week since the last time you had uninterrupted, unsupervised time with him. When you could link your arms around him, feel his head lean down on top of yours, say things without threat of anyone else hearing.
Seeing him there in the front seat, inches away from you, and not being able to touch him or even talk much to him, feels like a form of torture. Makes you curse your dad ‘n his tone-deaf singing all the more.
You’re supposed to be meeting Sam and Anna and a couple others from work at Frank’s, Saturday night, 8PM sharp. Rodeo night. Your dad’s leaving for Fort Worth in the late afternoon, he said. You’d kinda sulked when he told you, realizing that left a tiny window of time you could see Joel that day.
And then he told you he’d text Joel to ask if he’d be around to pick you up from Frank’s if you needed him, and you chirped up.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be really good. Can you ask him to?”
“He said just to text you if you need ‘im, hon.”
“Cool, I will. I mean, I will if I need him. Thanks, Dad.”
If you need him. If. Just on the off-chance, right?
The thought draws a smile across your face. You reckon his presence will be very, very needed this weekend.
Soon enough, the truck pulls in to some ornamented, fountain-guarded resort, bursting with greenery and flowers, paved in pristine sandstone. A red canopy over the entrance, golden letters spelling out Hillcrest.
“Damn…” Sarah leans over into your space to get a glimpse of the building from your window. “This is so fancy.”
“You treatin’ us or somethin’, son?” your dad asks Joel.
He doesn’t reply. But his eyes flit up to meet yours, then back to the road ahead. In a one-second look, you understand.
Sarah’s still staring outside, mouth wide open, blinking eyes taking everything in. “Dad, what the f…”
“Language,” Joel clips.
You smirk. It’s funny, hearing the man who’s whispered far worse things – filthy things – to you in earshot of company, chastise his nineteen-year-old for cursing.
The four of you roll by the water feature – three robed women made of stone pouring water from vases into a pool at their feet – and park up. As you hop out, a woman in a silk dress struts by, floppy sunhat bouncing with each step she takes.
Joel meets you at the back of the truck, letting Sarah and your dad stroll off ahead. They’re busy pointing at different features of the lavish hotel – the purple-uniformed bellboys running in and out of the lobby, the glimmering revolving door, the guests eating on balconies overhead.
“You outta that mood yet?” he asks, and you snap out of your daze.
“Not in a mood,” you reply bluntly, eyes still ahead.
“Huh.” He nods, unconvinced. “Marty Robbins gettin’ to ya that much, is he?”
“Marty Robbins ain’t the problem.”
“No? What is it, then?”
His hand finds the small of your back. It straightens you up like a shot of fire through your spine.
“Not a what. A who.”
You lead him inside.
A man in a pressed white shirt greets you all at the entrance to the restaurant.
“Reservation for Miller,” Joel says, and the man nods curtly and darts off into the sea of tables.
Sarah skips off with your dad on her arm, the two of them fucking ecstatic to be somewhere so fancy and fun. You and Joel amble through, past wine coolers, dodging fleeing waiters, slipping between white-cloth tables and silver spoon diners. His hand never leaves the skin between your shoulder blades, red hot on your goosebumped skin.
You’re seated at a table by the window, overlooking the river. Joel sits opposite you, your dad by his side. Sarah nudges your elbow and holds her phone up, snapping a selfie of you both with the glimmering water in the background. She tags the location and adds text below: fine dining. Her thumbs search for emojis, picking two champagne glasses, some sparkles, and a pink heart. Then she swaps the heart for a smiley face, and tilts the phone to you, wordlessly asking for your approval.
“Cute,” you tell her, and she beams, hittingpost.
The server returns, hands out menus, leaves a jug of ice water and some fancy bottle of wine you’ve never heard of by the table, and then nods his head once again before he rushes off. Your dad salutes him as he goes. You cringe.
“Boy’s gonna take a damn heart attack,” Joel mutters, watching your dad lift the wine from its bucket.
Sarah’s watching, too. She looks from the bottle of wine over to Joel, eyebrows raised. He flatly tells her, “No.”
“Come on,” she protests, “it’s not like anybody here knows what age I am.”
“We know.”
“Dad, I–”
“Water, or nothin’.”
Her eyes dagger into his. “You ain’t exactly a stickler for the rules yourself,” she breathes, sliding the jug across the table, and you scoff.
You’ve seen her do worse on her Instagram stories, and the way she glares at you warns you not to open your mouth. If Joel’s this pressed about some wine with a meal, it’s a damn good thing he doesn’t have a social media account.
“Let’s toast,” your dad announces as he pours wine into three of the glasses, “to…to you girls bein’ back home…” He raises his wine and Sarah lifts her little water, lemon slice floating on top. “…and to a fun summer ahead. Hm?”
You and Joel both hesitate a little before lifting your drinks, clinking them softly against each other with a glint in your eyes.
A fun summer. Sure. You’re certainly having fun. Yeah.
You watch Joel as you take a sip, frowning at the bitter taste. His mouth twists just like yours, neck winces as he swallows. Then he promptly slides his glass along the table back to your dad, clearing his throat and wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
“No?” you ask, amused.
“Not my thing.”
You tilt your head. “Maybe they have Bud at the bar.”
“You’re hilarious, you know that?”
You flash a proud grin at him. The denim of his jeans brushes against your ankles. Your dad takes Sarah up in conversation. No one would see if you just…
Under the long white tablecloth, you nudge open his calves and slot your feet between them. Joel’s boots close at the back of your legs, holding you to him. Holding you against him.
It feels…nice. It’s almost normal. Like something a real couple would do. Not a pair of hopeful idiots wrapped up too tight in some clandestine affair. You almost feel like you could reach for his hand, and you’re willing to bet that if it weren’t for your company, he’d let you take it. Let you part his fingers with yours. Let you run a light touch over his knuckles.
When you finally look up at Joel, he’s looking right back. Watching you. Reading your mind.
You avert your gaze, reaching to pour a glass of water.
A few quiet minutes pass while the table studies the menu. You’re still looking around, taking in your surroundings. The more you look, the more you notice. Velvet drapes framing tall Palladian windows. A man nervously checking his blazer pocket while his girlfriend’s at the bathroom. Joel’s legs give yours a wiggle and you’re drawn away from the pocket square and slicked-back hair.
He smiles affectionately. Asks in his eyes if you’re okay. Your shoulders meet your jaw with the inhale you take, and then you nod. Imperceptible. Some dumb smile across your lips that mirrors his. Like you really are on your own or something. It’s stupid.
“Reckon I’ll have the steak,” your dad says.
Joel hums in agreement, nodding.
Sarah orders a Caesar salad and you decide on the fettuccine Alfredo. The nodding waiter snaps his little black book shut and collects your menus, before disappearing again. Conversation flows across the table naturally: your dad’s big client, Joel’s working week, Sarah’s sophomore year. Of course, the Rangers are mentioned once or twice.
Your wrist is shaking your glass, watching as the water swirls around inside. The thought turns over much the same in your head. A question for Joel. When your food arrives and the chatter lulls, you brave up enough to ask it.
“You think I’m…brighter…here?”
He smiles, a little confused. “Brighter?”
“Aw, kiddo.” Your dad shakes his head, knife tearing into his steak. “I knew you’d take that to heart.”
Joel’s still looking at you. Concerned.
Sarah elbows you. “What’s that mean?”
Your dad sighs. “Bill told ‘er on Sunday she used to be miserable whenever she came home. Said that this time ‘round she looks…”
“…brighter.” You lift your hands to form air quotes around the word, pasta wrapped around the fork between your fingers.
Joel’s expression relaxes, his smile grows. “’cause of anything in particular, or…?”
You instantly regret bringing it up. He’s a dick. Has to ruin every sweet moment with a smug smirk and testosterone-induced impulses, doesn’t he?
You mock smile back and shake your head.
“Y’know what I think it is?” your dad says, and Joel finally turns to him. He nods at you and Sarah. “The pair of ‘em. Back home like old times. How long has it been since the four of us were out doin’ stuff together?”
You and Sarah exchange a sideways glance.
“I’m serious!” he says, waving his hands. Cutlery almost flying out of his grip. “It’s nice. Joel, back me up.”
Joel’s sat back in his chair, midway through cutting his steak, watching this show unfold. He clears his throat and offers, “Yeah. Real nice.”
Your dad looks defeated. He retires from the conversation, focusing on the meal in front of him.
“What are you guys gonna do all weekend without us?” Sarah asks, shoving a forkful of salad in her mouth.
“I, uh…keep forgetting y’all are goin’ away,” you lie, staring down at your pasta.
Joel clears his throat again. “This guy at work was showin’ me these videos of folks playin’ chess – did you know there are these…leagues, for chess? Professional leagues ‘n competitions. They win money, good money, for playin’ chess.”
Sarah, like everybody at the table, is quiet for a few seconds. “Is…is this your way of sayin’ y’all are gonna…play chess?”
You’re staring at Joel, amused and yet a tad embarrassed. The dude you’re sleeping with just went on a ramble about chess.
You twirl your fork in your hand before taking another bite. “I’ve never played chess. Maybe you’ll have to play it alone.”
Joel narrows his eyes. “Don’t think you can,” he says, gritting his teeth, “it’s a two-player game.”
“Nah,” Sarah chimes in. “A guy in my Physiology class plays against himself to practice. He’s pretty good, I think.”
Your head nods toward her, eyebrows raised at Joel. He’s grimacing back.
“He always goes on about speed, says it’s all about playin’ fast so your opponent ain’t got time to think. Quick hands, he says.”
Your brows arch, lips petted. Poor Joel. “Aw. Looks like you’ll be playin’ with yourself.”
His brows angle and you notice a twisted smile on his lips. Pissed – sort of aroused, but pissed. You lift your legs from between his. He holds onto your ankles with his own for a second, forcing you to stare at him, before he frees you. You tuck your legs under your chair.
Just then, Sarah’s phone vibrates on the wooden table.
“Oh, shoot, two seconds. Hello?” She screws her face up. “Are you kidding me? No way. No, I don’t– You– Kels, can I call you back in, like, an hour or something? I’ll call you back, I’m just at dinner with my dad and my…No, I’ll literally be, like– Alright. Lemme call you back. Okay.”
She hangs up and swivels in her seat to you.
“You know Kels? Kelly Ramirez?”
You draw a blank. Push your bottom lip out. “Should I know a Kelly Ramirez?”
“She played soccer with me in high school? Remember, that game you came to,” Sarah leans in, knocking your arm with the back of her hand as if giving your memory a swift kick, “she played in goal to fill in for Stephanie, and broke her ankle tryna save Amber Murphy’s shot? Passed out from the pain?”
Nothing. You shake your head.
She huffs. “Coach Lee had to drive her to the emergency room and it’s all she went on about for weeks.”
“Oh!” The penny drops. “That was her? Didn’t she carve his initials into the girls’ room stalls?”
Your dad and Joel exchange a bewildered and, quite frankly, weary glance. Sarah shuts her eyes and nods, ashamed.
“That’s her.”
“Wow. I wonder if he knew how bad her crush was…” you muse, choking back a laugh when Sarah gives you a dead-eyed stare.
“He would have,” Joel says flatly, and you both shoot him a look. “Girls ain’t good at hidin’ that sorta stuff.”
“Oh, like you’ve ever had anyone have a crush on you.” Sarah bats her hand at him and then her fingers lock around your wrist. “Anyway…”
You can see Joel’s grin from your peripheral. He gives your sneaker a tap with his boot under the table, and you feel your cheeks start to heat. You move your leg.
“…she’s just caught her boyfriend cheatin’.”
“Who has?”
Sarah huffs. “Kelly Ramirez! For cryin’ out loud, are– are you even listenin’ to me?”
“I was caught up in the Coach Lee stuff. Right. No, I’m with you now. Is she okay?”
“She suspected it for weeks. He kept cancelling plans last minute, kept coming up with dumb excuses. We were all tryna tell her, just ask ‘im. Ask him or find out for yourself. So, she did. Checked his phone and found all these messages between him ‘n some girl from college.”
“How’d she hack into his phone?” your dad asks.
Joel, head now resting against his fingers, draws him a look: Really?
“She didn’t,” Sarah tells him. “She knows his passcode. Used it to get in, I guess.”
Your dad nods, taking note, eyes narrowing. He looks over to Joel, then you. These kids and their technology, you imagine him thinking. But he’s staring a fraction too long. You shift in your seat. Give him a comical shrug – Don’t ask me – and he eventually looks away.
The rest of dinner passes smoothly – Sarah picking up her phone, rattling a message into it with her thumbs, and then dropping it back down onto the table. Your dad, battling his steak, asking Joel what he thinks of the Rangers’ chances against the Astros tonight, and Joel…well, Joel not taking his attention off of you for one second.
He’s answering your dad, saying all the right things at the right times, but anytime his eyes lift off of his plate, they land on you. Your arm, draped on the tablecloth. Your hand, moving pasta around your dish with your fork. Your eyes, flitting between the view outside to that inside.
You can see him the entire time. Watching you. You’re not fucking blind. If Sarah didn’t have Kelly Ramirez spamming her phone with cheating boyfriend updates, she’d probably be commenting on it. Did she grow a second head, or somethin’? she’d quip.
But you never look back. Not once. Just let him observe you, let him wait for a glance or a kick of the foot that never comes.
You’re leant back in your chair, arms crossed over your chest, when the waiter clears your table. Watching some couple wander off down the riverside path. She’s wearing a white sundress that dances around her calves with each slow step she takes. He’s in a plain black tee, tan arm around her back. Looking around at the view, taking it all in.
Then she turns on her heel to him. He lifts a hand to move her long, dark braids from her face, drops it to cup her jaw. Pulls her in to him, presses his lips to hers. Her hands are linked at his spine. Like they’re the only two people in the world.
There’s a feeling in the depths of your chest. A throb. Uncomfortable. Maybe even painful. You shift in your seat to move it, but it doesn’t budge. Your gaze falls, travelling along the window frame, onto the white cloth and to Joel’s elbow. Up his arm, across his shoulder.
You reach his jaw and look away. He’s watching everything.
“Alright,” your dad’s hands slap down on his thighs, “we good to go?”
“You go on,” Joel tells him. “I’ll get the bill.”
“Absolutely not, bud,” your dad protests. You and Sarah both lean back in your chairs at the same time. May as well get comfortable, we could be here a while.
“I got it,” Joel says, almost annoyed, getting up to stand. Your dad follows suit. Joel holds a hand out. “I’m sure you’ll repay me somehow. Hey, I got that job in a couple weeks I said I might need you for. Help me out and we’re even.”
Your dad’s hands are on his hips. “I ain’t happy about this, Joel.”
“Stick,” Joel mutters. “I’m sure I’ve done worse that you’ve forgiven me for.”
His eyes finally find yours and your cheeks flush. He covers it by gesturing to you to stand up with a snap of his head.
Why was that hot? Is it…weird…? That that was hot? All he did was nod his head.
You stand – Sarah copies you, sliding her chair under the table. Joel pushes yours in for you. His hand’s on your back again, fingers drawing circles. The four of you are walking toward the exit. Your dad’s still murmuring about owing money.
“Hey,” Sarah calls, pointing, “this place has an outdoor bar. Let’s go check it out.”
Your head’s beginning to dizzy. Why is your head dizzying?
Stick.
The way he pointed, flicked his head toward the door. Knowing you’d just fucking obey him. And you did.
Yep. That was hot. Hot enough that it restarts something in you; something deep down begins to wind. An idea sweeps across your mind.
Sunlight bursts through the French doors up ahead, golden rays flooding in through the glass panes. Joel stoops his head as he wanders through, dodging ivy draped around the doorway. On the other side, drowned in daylight, a paved courtyard.
There are tables and chairs dotted around. Benches in front of flowerbeds. More random statues – a cherub, a rearing horse. Wooden planters with vines growing toward the sky. Another slightly smaller fountain in the middle.
This…is fucking insane. Last night for dinner you ate leftover Chinese food ‘cause your dad was working late. Tonight, you’re strolling through a five-star hotel garden after the best fettucine of your life.
Ahead of you and Joel, your dad nudges Sarah and comically offers her his arm, elbow outstretched. She nods graciously and links her arm in his, and they saunter off, chins up, dumb grins across their faces.
Joel scoffs. Your lips tug a little, chest still tight. Body still tense. And he senses it.
“What?”
You shake your head. “Nothin’. Just…taking in the view.”
“’s nice, ain’t it?”
“Mhm,” you admit. “Word on the street is it was all your idea.”
“Wanted somewhere nice for you. For both of you. Didn’t know it would be this nice, but…it’s what you deserve.”
Your eyelashes flutter, blinking rapidly to conceal the look in your eye. The look that says…something dangerous. You betray the thoughts circling around your head and press your lips together in a tight smile. “Thanks,” is all you can muster the strength to say.
Joel looks forward; your dad and Sarah are strides ahead, still gawking at the garden, chatting, snapping photos.
“It improve your mood any?”
“I already told you, I ain’t in a mood.”
“That why you couldn’t look at me at dinner?”
It stops you in your tracks. You glare at him. Almost about to punch him out of frustration, right before you catch yourself and your expression softens.
“Did you want me to look at you?” you coo, leaning in a little. Your hands rest on his forearms.
Joel tenses. Opens his mouth to say something, then thinks better of it. But you want him to fucking say it. So, you push further.
“What we were doin’ under the table wasn’t enough? Poor baby. Guess you just wanted more of my attention, huh?”
His expression doesn’t change. Lips barely move when he utters, “Thin ice, kid.”
You shrug. “I’m not the one begging you to look at me.”
He swallows. His eyes are staring you down, huge, glowing warm in the evening sunlight. There’s so much energy thrumming around your body that you feel almost faint, like your knees could give. Just swoon, fall into his arms.
“I’m bored,” you back up, turning back to the hotel, “going to the bathroom.”
You’re gone before he can react. Taking off for the doors, stumbling out of the sun and into the cool restaurant, catching your breath when you’re safely in the shade.
You approach the bar – a deep, shiny mahogany, wine glasses hanging from above, glistening footrail at the bottom. Intricately carved, varnished and smooth. Bottles of spirits and ales and wines decorate the back wall, lined up on shelves against a glimmering mirror.
Two girls in black polo shirts stand, elbows leaning against the back shelf.
“I served a duck the other night,” one of them says to the other. She has short brown hair, freckles painted across her nose. A tattoo down her right arm. She twirls a pen between her fingers as she speaks.
“A duck?” The second girl screws her face up.
“Yep. When I gave him the check, he told me to put it on his bill.”
The second girl snorts. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Hey, excuse me?” you call over, and the girl with the tattoo steps forward, still laughing. “Where are the restrooms?”
“Upstairs,” she nods to the doors by your side, “they’re on the right.”
You nod in thanks and she twirls the pen again, resuming position.
The bathroom is freezing cold when you burst into it, almost panting, and stumble across to the sink. Your palms plant firmly on the marble countertop, head falling limp between your shoulders. When you look up to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, a laugh passes your lips.
You look…flustered. Bothered. You’re not sure if Joel noticed it. You were too busy trying to conceal it to gauge whether he’d caught on.
What the fuck is he doing to you? More importantly, how is he doing it to you? Can you seriously not go a couple days without him? Need, want, desire. Everything he causes, only he can fix.
But then, he never can fucking fix it. There’s always something or someone in the way. And you swear Joel gets off on it – watching you need him, miss him, pine for him, and knowing he won’t be able to relieve it.
Staring at yourself, you start to feel that energy charging up again. Heat pooling between your legs, blood drumming through your veins. What the fuck is he doing to me? Nothing, he’s not doin’ nothing.
Nothing I can’t do right back to him.
You push yourself off of the sink and shoot one last glance in the mirror, giving your reflection an affirming nod before striding over to the door. It swings shut behind you as you pace down the hall, feeling a lot more steel and a lot less sweet.
As you round the corner to head downstairs, a familiar shadow stalks up the last two steps and bursts into the hallway. Without a word, his arm hooks around yours and he drags you back the way you came.
“Joel– What the fuck are you doin’–?”
He passes by the restrooms and onto a plush red carpet. In a blur, he flings open the first door in sight and throws you inside, ignoring your gasps.
He slams the door shut, whipping you around to shove you against it. From over his shoulder, you notice your surroundings. A bed over by the window, pristine white sheets tucked perfectly under the mattress. Nightstands spotless, desk against the wall topped with a tray holding a bottle of wine and a tiny card that reads Welcome to the Hillcrest.
You’re in one of the hotel’s rooms. One of the hotel’s empty rooms.
Of course it’s empty. It’s like he fucking planned it.
“Alright. A hotel room. Did you book it, at least?”
“Naw,” his eyes scan you up and down, “I didn’t fuckin’ book it.”
“So…what are we doing in here?”
Joel’s pressing against you, forcing you up against the wooden door. Caging you against it with the weight of his body. Clearly, in the time you spent giving yourself a pep talk in the bathroom mirror, Joel was doing the exact same downstairs. The fucker.
“Said you were bored. ‘n that’s a real shame, given I just took you to dinner. Ain’t no pleasin’ you, is there?”
Your head rolls back against the door with a laugh. “That really got to you? So, what, now you’re gonna fuck me? Wine, dine, ‘n…yeah?”
Joel’s lips are tight, eyes staring you down. He’s seething. He’s turned on, and he’s seething. Exactly where you want him.
“You get sluttier every fuckin’ day, you know that?”
You nod, teeth taking your bottom lip. “You like it, though, huh?”
Joel doesn’t reply. You lean in closer to him.
“You like me bein’ a little slut,” you whisper, running a hand softly over his hard jeans, “just for you, don’t you?”
His voice lowers in response. “Not when I can’t do nothin’ about it.”
You pull back, cocking an eyebrow. Angle your head. “You’re the one who pulled me in here. It’s an empty hotel room, man. Do whatever the fuck you want.”
He glowers at you. His face rigid, one hand still locked around yours, almost assisting you in palming himself; the other above your head, flat against the door.
His head dips. Jaw lines with yours, breath against your ear.
“Whatever the fuck I want?”
“Mhm.” You nod, maybe a little too eagerly. Not that either of you care. Then you pause. “Oh! Wait.”
Joel lifts his head, narrowing his eyes. Looks like you just cut in front of some spiel he had planned.
Your cheeks swell. “Do you have a bottle?”
“A bottle?”
“Beer bottle. You need me to go grab one? What if they don’t have beer? It’s kind of a fancy place. Would wine work? Or is it only beer that gets you goin’–”
“Alright. Enough. Fuckin’ – brat.”
You cock your head, tongue in your cheek, pushing around the shape of your mouth. Keep going.
You spurt out a laugh. “I’m a brat?”
“Yep. Never do as you’re fuckin’ told.”
You lean in close, lips brushing off of his, so close you can taste him. Feel how tense his jaw is. Your voice is low, barely above a whisper.
“Then…make me.”
Joel’s still staring you down, watching you like a predator watches its prey. His eyes are so dark you can’t read the thoughts behind them, but the way his grip tightens on your wrist, so rough it feels like he’s fucking bruising you, the way he yanks you off of the door, tells you exactly what he’s thinking.
“I ain’t got time for this,” he hisses, pulling you over to the bed.
You stagger behind him, still snickering. Joel sinks down into the mattress, thighs apart, pulling you to stand between them. You look him up and down once, smirking, his hands still roughly gripping yours. Then –
In one fluid movement, you’re over his knee. Thighs digging into your stomach, face hovering over the soft carpet. Your hands grip his calf to hold onto something – anything – as he pulls the hem of your dress up so roughly, you’re sure he’s ripped it.
“You want to act like a brat?” he asks, and you smile, feeling his hand run from the back of your knee up your thigh, coming to rest on your ass. “Get treated like one.”
The first time his huge palm slaps against your skin, your mind blanks. The sharp sting, Joel’s grunt as his hand comes down on you. The way your body jerks, and the whine you let slip as it does. The throb when he lifts his hand, the cold air hissing against your heated skin.
He’s fucking – he’s…He has you in an empty hotel room, door unlocked, entire lobby of people downstairs. Over his knee, skirt hiked to your waist, spanking you. Hard.
And then you realize. You fucking like this.
“Joel…” you moan, catching your breath when it comes back.
Another sharp sting.
“Yeah, baby? You want me to stop? You gonna stop bein’ a little brat?”
Your eyes roll to the back of your head, filthy grin on your lips.
“F-fuck no.”
He slaps you again. You whimper, wrapping your arms around his leg.
“Didn’t fuckin’ think so. Can feel how wet you are for me.”
He curls a finger around the hem of your panties and drags them down your thighs, letting them drop off of your legs and to the floor while his fingers return between your legs, running up and down your slit. You whine.
“Such a pretty little mouth, huh? You were runnin’ it just a second ago. Where’d all your big talk go?”
You open your mouth to reply, barely even make a sound, and his palm smacks against your ass again. He’s not done.
“Always got somethin’ to say, don’t you?” he grunts, hand coming down on you again. “You remember that day I ran you home?”
You whimper in response – yeah, I remember.
“You ‘n me alone, you being a little fucking tease. Wanted to fuck you so badly, baby. Those tight little shorts you were in…fuck…”
“Why…didn’t…you…?” you whine, muffled into the denim of his jeans. “Would’ve…fuck…let you.”
“Yeah? You wanted me to, darlin’?”
“Wanted…you,” slap, “in the kitchen.”
You gasp when Joel’s grip becomes tighter around your waist, holding you still as his hand sears against your ass. Rougher. Harder. It turns you on more.
“Wanted you in my mouth.”
You swear his breath catches. Swear you can feel his hand hovering over you, almost ready to spank you again, but he pauses.
“That right, baby? In your mouth?”
You nod, unsure if he can even see you. And then you feel him bend, feel his fist in your hair, lifting your head until his lips are curled around the shell of your ear.
“You wanna show me what you woulda done?” he whispers, breath hot.
Your body’s still shaking, throbbing; you’re a sobbing mess, but still, you utter: “Yeah.”
Joel pulls you all the way off his lap then, widening his legs for you to sit between them.
“Gotta be quick, babygirl,” he tells you, pushing you by the shoulders down onto the carpet.
Your knees part to lower yourself closer to his crotch, fingers shakily fumbling with his zipper. Joel helps you, shifting his jeans until his cock springs free. He’s as hard as if you’d been playing with him this entire time, so hard you almost begin to drool at the sight of him.
He sighs shakily, hand leaning behind on the mattress to steady himself. “You’re gonna sit there like a good girl and make me cum, alright?”
You nod, eyes blown black with lust.
He grips the back of your head with one hand and guides his cock to your mouth with the other. You take his thick length in both hands, allowing a trail of spit to fall from your lips and cover his swollen tip, running down his shaft only to be collected and dragged back up by your fingers.
“Good girl,” Joel whispers, watching you. “Doin’ what I tell you, huh?”
A few strokes and his cock’s soaked. When his head lines up with your bottom lip and you open up wide, he pushes into your mouth, filling you up without stopping to let you catch your breath. You gag when he hits the back of your throat, and Joel groans.
“Know you can take it, baby, you’ve done it before. That’s my girl.”
You whimper in response, mouth full of his cock.
“Keep makin’ those pretty noises, whole hotel’s gonna be wonderin’ what’s goin’ on up here.”
He allows you a second to pull off of him, gasping for air when your mouth’s free again.
“Want ‘em to hear,” you choke out, lips slipping back down his cock.
“Yeah?” he bucks his hips up into your mouth. “You want ‘em to know? Why don’t I just take you downstairs right now, fuck you in front of everybody, huh? You like that?”
You whine, gasp something that sounds like a yes around his warm skin.
“Thought you would, fuckin’ dirty girl. Want everyone to see just how good you take me, hm? How fuckin’ wet you get for me?”
Your fingers reach for his balls, kneading them softly in your hands. Joel’s head tips back and he lets out a guttural groan.
“Look at you,” he purrs, “soakin’ wet all over the floor, lettin’ me fuck that pretty little mouth. Needed it bad, didn’t you?”
You follow the words he’s saying with your eyes, never taking your doe-eyed gaze off of him. He’s all you can see; the surrounding world blurred by lust and sex and by Joel.
“Been thinkin’ about this all fuckin’ day,” he mutters.
You pull yourself off of him, disobeying his tight grip at the back of your head.
“Yeah?” you breathe, giving in to him. “Been thinkin’ about you, too.”
Joel almost looks surprised, like he wasn’t expecting that to come out of your mouth. He’s never expecting any of what you say to come out of your mouth, is he?
Hell, you don’t expect half of what comes out of your fucking mouth these days.
You sink back down on him, eyes screwing shut with the feeling of him filling you up to the very bottom of your throat.
“So slutty, baby. You like that? Yeah?”
He’s speaking so soft but being so fucking rough, pushing you down onto his dick and then hauling you back off with a fistful of hair. His hips snap against your mouth and your hands leave his body to balance yourself on his thighs, stabilizing yourself with fingers through his loose belt loops.
You’re gagging on him, choking every time his salty head brushes against your throat, but Joel doesn’t stop. Each whimper, each muffled cry from you only pushes him closer, sends his head back in a wave of euphoria at the sight of you taking his cock in your mouth so good, the sounds of you choking on the size of him.
Your chin is soaked, dripping with spit and precum. Your cheeks dappled with tears. He doesn’t let up. You don’t fucking want him to. Your knees are slipping further apart, your cunt wetter than ever, dripping all over the plush carpet of the classiest hotel you’ve ever been in.
It’s fucking filthy, and you love every second of it.
Your lids grow heavy and you stare up at him, doused in rays from the window behind, blissed out on his body, him blissed out on yours, and you know he’s about to cum. His brows arch, his jaw falls slack. He’s focusing only on the feeling of your swollen lips around him, your throat contracting with each thrust of his hips.
He jerks, grunts out a, “Throat?”
“Uhuh,” you choke back, hands clamping around his thighs when he leans back.
One more jolt and he releases rope after rope of warm cum down you, painting the back of your throat and filling up your mouth. That all-too-familiar taste of Joel trickles all over your tongue.
He’s whispering, “Fuck, fuck, darlin’, fuck…” over and over, chanting your name, breathing curses and praises between.
When he stills and you feel him relax, your hands fall limp on your lap. You don’t move, not until Joel’s eyes flutter open and he slides his soft cock out of your mouth.
Your head rolls onto his thigh, eyes wide and soft as you gaze up at him. Equal parts enamored and painfully aroused.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he tells you. “Brats don’t get to fucking cum.”
There are words coming to your mind that you wouldn’t dare call him when he’s in this mood. Words you wouldn’t call him any other time, either, if it weren’t for the agonizing ache between your legs. This – fucking – guy.
You want to sob. Want to wrap yourself around his legs as he stands and beg him to throw you down on the bed, part your legs, use whatever the fuck he wants just to let you cum. Just to give you some release.
It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Dumb for this man.
He sits forward and tucks his limp cock back into his boxers, redoes his jeans. Then he leans down, scoops up your soaked panties and scrunches them in his fist. He slips them into his jeans pocket and, with a heaving sigh, pushes himself up from the bed.
You’re still squatted, knees apart, on the carpet. Arousal probably streaming out of you. Joel only lowers his hand and you take it, letting him pull you up to height. You still don’t believe he’s gonna let you walk out of here undealt with.
Until he wanders off toward the door, and there’s nothing left for you to do but follow.
Each step hurts, your thighs grazing against each other. Your naked cunt throbbing with every tiny movement.
Joel pauses at the door, turns the handle slowly, quietly, opening it just enough to poke his head and shoulders out, before beckoning you forward with a wave of his hand.
He blindly takes your wrist and leads you out of the room in a daze, letting the door close over as you both head back the way you came toward the staircase.
Under spotless chandeliers, past romantic paintings. Along the same plush carpet he’d shoved you along less than twenty minutes ago. Down the stairs, emerging at the bar, pair of you scanning the restaurant for your dad and Sarah. No sign of them.
“C’mon,” he nudges you, “still gotta get that bill.”
You stand by Joel’s side at the bar, catching a glimpse of the pair of you in the mirror opposite. Elbows touching, palms inches apart on the polished surface. Your heart swells to the point of almost hurting at the sight. The cover is back up, you’re back on planet earth; you’re nothing but a pair of acquaintances, friends at best.
Just a guy and his best bud’s daughter.
Joel’s tapping his credit card against the wood.
“What’s up?” you ask him.
“Hm?” he replies, eyes finding you, head still facing forward. Almost bracing for your dad’s appearance at any given moment.
“You’re being weird.”
“Ain’t being weird.”
“Still not gonna let me cum?”
He’s almost startled. You asked it quiet enough that nobody would’ve heard, if there were even anybody around you, but still. It feels like dangerous territory talking about it this out in the open.
“Nope,” he replies, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
“You know I’m gonna do it myself the second I get home, right?”
He shrugs. “You gonna call me?”
“Facetime you, if you want.”
His body goes rock solid. You knock into it, smirking. Before he can muster up a reply, the girl with the tattoo shows back up, smiling at Joel. He tells her the table number and she slides him the bill.
“How much is it?” you ask him.
He turns to look at you. “You won’t be findin’ out.”
You mock offense. A small part of you isn’t kidding. “’n why’s that?”
Joel ignores you. You twist over his arm to get a look and he bats you away, holding you at bay with his elbow while he places his card over the total amount and slides it back across the bar.
You admit defeat, though it kills you a little inside.
Joel does his little head nod again and you follow him to the exit. You walk out of the restaurant together, your chin as high as your shame will allow it, Joel’s parallel to his chest. Your dad’s stood against the truck deep in conversation with Sarah. Or, rather, Sarah’s deep in conversation at your dad.
“…so, she thought he was just textin’ his boys, but here she goes onto his Instagram messages, and it’s all these hearts, all these messages sayin’…”
“Where did you two get to?”
Joel opens the door for you silently, and you breathe a slightly awkward Thanks before climbing in.
Once he’s back in the front seat alongside your dad, he replies. “Charged me twice. Problem with the card reader.”
“I hope they apologized,” your dad says with a concerned tone. “Hope they ain’t tryin’ anythin’.”
“Nah,” Joel bats it away – unconvincingly. Or is that just because you know he just…you know.
Sarah’s still yapping – Kelly’s heartbroken, doesn’t know how she’s gonna go on. She – Sarah – is furious with Kelly’s boyfriend – ex-boyfriend? – his name is…Mike? Mick? Something beginning with M…Your ears are screaming.
“Happened to me once at a gas station. Charged twice for one tank a’ gas. I went back the next day ‘n asked the girl, she said she didn’t remember me. I showed her the bank statement, said, Why the hell would I need two tanks of gas for one vehicle? She had to call her manager. It was…insanity, Joel. You be careful.”
Joel’s pretending to listen, murmuring Right and Uhuh when appropriate, but he aims every second glance at you from the rearview mirror. You tug your skirt as far down your thighs as it’ll go, feeling exposed and guilty and ashamed and yet so fucking good all in one.
You can still taste him on your tongue. Your throat feels raw, your jaw sore. He knows it, from the looks he’s giving you in the mirror. It’s satisfaction, mixed with longing, mixed with guilt. Your underwear is in his front pocket. Your thighs clamp shut, feeling yourself seeping all over his backseat. One big, chaotic mess.
The car falls into silence, Sarah’s thumbs typing rapidly, Joel’s elbow propped against the window, cheek leaning on his knuckles. You lean your own head against the window, the engine drumming into your skull, the cold of the glass relieving your scorching skin. Your dad starts quietly singing again, and you wish you had the energy to put on a convincing voice to tell him to shut up.
“Maybe tomorrow a bullet may find me, tonight, nothing’s worse than this pain in my heart.”
----------
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all da ladies love leo valdez ! leo x daughter of poseidon!reader
｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ in which, leo has a crush on yet another girl that’s beyond his league, percy’s sister … and his friends flame him for not being able to confess his feelings!
— this is set in like… university ?? obviously jason doesn’t die…hope u enjoy my first ever fic on here!! might be ooc, soz🫐 also jeyna is a thing…. sorry not sorry!! 🤓😂 (it’s actually not even relevant to this story, but i thought i’d let u know…)
IMSG, “THE LOST HOES 🫤” July 4th, 2024
beauty queen
do yall ever wonder how it’s impossible to not pull hoes
like it sounds like a real SKILL issue
superman
who are you talking about, pipes?
beauty queen
who do u think I’m talking about???
the only mfo who doesn’t have a gf???
do NOT play dumb jason grace
latino elf
oh wow
talking shit in the gc is crazzyyy
superman
i wasn’t!
she was.
beauty queen
do not make me pull up our private messages
latino elf
i see how it is…..
😔 it’s always the bitches u think u can trust…
superman
ok
beauty queen
why is he the driest man alive
this why we didn’t last ong😭
latino elf
or maybe because ur lebanese ???
superman
she’s cherokee huh
wait is that supposed to say lesbian?
latino elf
isn’t that what it says…
beauty queen
💀💀
ok… anyway can we talk about the fact that leo has
been madly in love with y/n since like… forever???
latino elf
no thanks
didn’t ask
not true
lying on my name
superman
yeah yeah whatever helps you sleep at night
beauty queen
he’s down bad shhh
latino elf
OHHH GODDD 😭😭😔😔😔
ok so what if i like her shes so fine
and so nice and sooo mermaid 🧜♀️
beauty queen
she is very fine and very nice
and yes she’s very mermaid
superman
we all know he isn’t going to say
anything to her, though, right??
latino elf
hahaha 😂 wdym 😂
i’d tell her if percy weren’t her brother
superman
that didn’t stop you from trying to
flirt with MY sister though???????
latino elf
yeah that’s different tho
she COULDNT go out with me
beauty queen
not like she wanted to anyway
latino elf
gtfo
anyway i don’t plan on telling her that
i have any slight interest in her! 😎
superman
you should though
bet she likes you too
beauty queen
don’t feed into his delusions
superman
gosh pipes, pipe it down a notch
latino elf
fr listen to my bro ‼️
how would i even tell her dawggg
WHAT IF she rejects me 🤨 BOOM FRIENDSHIP GONE
superman
yeah i guess so
but yolo ???
latino elf
yolo my ass bro😒
superman
ok sorry for trying to help
beauty queen
this why she dont want u
latino elf
yeah nd thats why yo relationship was a LIE 🤣
superman
😐
beauty queen
🖕🏼
latino elf
lol ur mad
ok bye u guys are a snooze fest 😴
beauty queen
go talk to ur gf
latino elf
i will, beauty queen 🫡
IMSG, “Y/N 🦈” July 4th, 2024
leo 🛠️
hey hey mermaid
y/n 🦈
hi leo !
whats up :)
leo 🛠️
the sky duh
nothing much tho, just chilling in my dorm
u should totally pull up
y/n 🦈
we’ll see 🧐
i’m in the library rn
leo 🛠️
nerd alert ‼️
y/n 🦈
ok but when u fail our exams dont come crying
leo 🛠️
if it were math/science i would be resting peacefully
but no fr i did study, trust 🙏🏼
y/n 🦈
not that u needed it though
you’re smart enough
leo 🛠️
wowie thanks mermaid
da ladies wish they had my smarts
y/n 🦈
🤨🤨
leo 🛠️
sorry that came out SO wrong 😭
y/n 🦈
ok ok well pull up to the library
perhaps i need ur smarts
leo 🛠️
si señora
will be there in a few 😎
shark_girl • 2h
send message ♡ ➣
pipermstealer replied to your story
omg he wants uuu 😳😳🤣😂
shark_girl
why are u insane
😅😅😅
pipermstealer
i am not insane he wants u
what boy willingly wants to study w a girl
shark_girl
one that’s my friend???
pipermstealer
friend my ass bro
he wanna kiss u so bad…
matching usernames??? THE MAAAN WANTS UU 😭
shark_girl
be fr we’ve had them since we were
like fifteen 🙄🙄
pipermstealer
bro get out I’m actually DONE
u have to wake up queen 😭🙏🏼
IMESSAGE, PIPER & JASON July 5th, 2024
pipes 🌸
i am so SO DONE with yn
jason ⚡️
why
pipes 🌸
bc she’s convinced that leo don’t want her
jason ⚡️
i think its very obvious
do you think yn wants leo thats the real question
pipes 🌸
ABSOLUTELY ?????
she has extreme heart eyes for him
but she’s better at hiding it
jason ⚡️
wait are you being serious
NO WAY
NO WAY??
a girl out of his league actually wants him 🤨
piper 🌸
wait I thought u knew???
jason ⚡️
uhm no
she must be good at hiding it
piper 🌸
or boys are just dense
jason ⚡️
ok well…….
we have to get them together
cause I’m so tired of hearing leo ramble abt her
piper 🌸
ok well i’m tired of yn too
how do we get them together
jason ⚡️
uh I don’t know?????
now why would you think I know
aren’t YOU the daughter of aphrodite
maybe YOU should know 😒
pipes 🌸
someone’s mad
but i don’t know?
one of them has to say something eventually….
jason ⚡️
no way, leo would never… not too sure about yn though.
leo cares too much about their friendship
and he is convinced she only sees him as a friend
and he’s deathly afraid to ruin their friendship
pipes 🌸
why do we have dumb friends
why can’t THEY SEEEE
jason ⚡️
yeah it’s very annoying
man, maybe we shouldn’t interfere?
let them figure it out themselves
pipes 🌸
unless u want leo to date the first girl
who gives him the opportunity to date her,
i think we SHOULD interfere! not a lot just a tiny bit 🤏🏼
jason ⚡️
well i guess you have a point… but how?
pipes 🌸
OK hear me out fr
u share a dorm with leo, yeah?
he always leaves his phone unattended
go into twt and make sure he isnt logged into his private account
jason ⚡️
where is this headed
pipes 🌸
ok shut up
OK but make sure hes on the main
since he always talks about her on his priv
so if yn sees a tweet about her then
SHES GOTTA KNOW
jason ⚡️
FIRST OF ALL thats an invasion of privacy
SECOND OF ALL what if she doesn’t see it before
leo realizes that wasn’t tweeted on his private account
pipes 🌸
no she like stalks his twitter so she’ll see!
and uhm so what if it’s an invasion of privacy
he’ll thank us once he gets the girl of his dreams 🙄
jason ⚡️
ok then….
i’ll do it
but if this backfires i was not apart of it
pipes 🌸
yeah yeah whatever
i’ll take the blame
FIVE DAYS LATER, TWITTER!
IMSG, “THE LOST HOES 🫤” July 10th, 2024
latino elf
HOLY SHIT
HOLY SHIT
IM JUMPING OFF THE NEAREST CLIFF
it was so nice knowing u two
superman
don’t kys ur so sexy haha
what happened though
latino elf
i accidentally tweeted something
about yn.
on my main.
superman
hey man, maybe she didn’t see?
beauty queen
yeah she probably didn’t
latino elf
yeah u guys are RIGHT 😅
she DIDN’T SEE IT!!!
beauty queen
mhm
latino elf
you’re being oddly quiet…
beauty queen
sorry????? IM BUSY
latino elf
yeah huh
superman
you’re crazy
latino elf
oh my god i’m gonna throw up
my friend ship is over with her
she messaged meEEE
HELPPPP
superman
MESSAGE HER BACK???
GO GO GO GOOO BRO
latino elf
no i’m leaving her on delivered
beauty queen
i swear to gods if u don’t message her
jason and i WILL jump you 😭😭
superman
exactly!!
latino elf
it was so nice being her friend 🫤
beauty queen
BRO STFU AND READ HER MESSAGE???
latino elf
ok fine
bye…..
IMSG, “Y/N 🦈” July 10th, 2024
y/n 🦈
leo did u mean to tweet that?
leo 🛠️
tweet what 🤨
y/n 🦈
you know what I’m talking about
you’re not stupid
leo 🛠️
you’re crazy
i got hacked by
jason
y/n 🦈
you’re crazier for thinking I’d believe you
so… u did mean to?
leo 🛠️
i don’t want to ruin our friendship
please don’t let this ruin it
you’re my bestest friend
y/n 🦈
gosh let me talk
i thought you didn’t like me
so i never said anything…?
but i like you, leo. i really do
leo 🛠️
oh my god
are you serious
wait i’m going to your dorm
y/n 🦈
what??
Delivered
Leo looked at his phone for a good second and then left it on his bed, unattended. he ran to your residence hall— it didn’t matter to him that it was quite literally on the other side of campus. he needed to hear you say the words he had been waiting to hear since he was fifteen. he’d always had a slight crush on you, mostly off and on.
But during the summer, he had fallen for you even harder than he thought he could. he never thought that he could love someone as much as he loved you. anyway, he was practically dying as he ran to your dorm! his hair was disheveled, and he was panting a bit. he wasn’t sure if he was sweaty because he was nervous, or because he had just ran to get to your dorm.
He knocked on your door three times.
You jumped out of your bed. you felt like throwing up from how nervous you were. you quickly slid on your slippers, and looked in the mirror before you opened the door for him. (making the poor boy wait). you adjusted your hair, making sure it sat right.
You took a deep breath before opening the door. you almost didn’t, but a voice in your head was telling you that you’d be an idiot if you didn’t open the door. your hands gripped the doorknob, and then unlocked it. leo was practically dying because you were taking years to open the stupid door. you finally opened it, getting met by a disheveled-sweaty-flushed leo valdez.
“Hi.” he croaked out, his voice cracking slightly. he felt like he was on fire, literally. he wanted this to be over with! well, no, that’s a lie. he just wanted to be your boyfriend already.
“…Hi.” you answered, your voice was quiet. you had an awkward smile on your face. you were praying that you would just drown at this moment. you’d much rather enjoy that than this.
He cleared his throat, and finally spoke after a long minute of awkward silence. The two looked at each other “I really… really like you. I.. Uh.. You obviously know that already, but I wanna tell you in person?” he said, nodding along with his own words. his hands went to fumble with the hem of his shirt, anxiously waiting for your response.
“I really like you, too.” You replied. you didn’t feel as nervous as anymore when he started to talk. you felt your face getting hotter, and your smile getting bigger. he grinned at you like an idiot.
He thought that he was dreaming when you said you liked him. The start of something. “Really?” He asked, just wanting to hear you say it again. He couldn’t help but grin like an idiot. He thought never in a million years that you’d ever like him! You were totally out of his league. you were so awesome, so pretty, and so sweet.
You nodded again, rolling your eyes. “Yes, really.”
THREE MONTHS LATER… INSTAGRAM!
shark_girl
🎶 let the light in : lana del rey (feat. father john misty)
Liked by percysbeth, lava_boy, pipermstealer, and 122 others
shark_girl happy three million years with my boy!!! i love u so so so much leo 🫶🏼🫶🏼
tagged: lava_boy
View all 16 comments
lava_boy who is that sexy man in the 2nd slide
→ shark_girl idk i found him at the store……
lava_boy we’re literally like this 🤞🏼👩❤️💋👨
lava_boy te quiero !!
→ shark_girl 🤍🤍
lava_boy ugh why do we literally solo everyone in new rome
→ shark_girl ntm on percabeth !!!!
→ percysbeth 🫡🫡
pipermstealer yeah you’re welcome 🥱
→ supermantaylorsversion i did all the work
→ pipermstealer i gave u the idea
→ lava_boy thank u jason 😒 thank u piper 🙄
→ pipermstealer i hope she leaves u
→ shark_girl woah guys no need to say that
percysbeth i support 🤫 (pls cook for me leo)
→ lava_boy on it 😎
lava_boy
🎶 ivy : frank ocean
Liked by supermantaylorsversion, shark_girl, and 98 others
lava_boy I would like to thank poseidon for being a father to my wonderful girlfriend of THREE DECADES 😎
tagged: shark_girl
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shark_girl I THOUGHT THAT I WAS DREAMIN’ WHEN U SAID U LOVEEEE MEEE 😭😭😭
→ lava_boy the start of nothin 🦈
shark_girl i’m taylor lautner
→ lava_boy FORREAL
shark_girl hi bf 👩❤️💋👨
→ lava_boy hello girlfriend.
→ shark_girl 😭😭😭
pipermstealer no because you guys are actually cute
→ lava_boy ACTUALLY cute 🤨
→ pipermstealer what do u want me to say yall are actually ugly
→ shark_girl pipe it down a notch 😔
supermantaylorsversion he’s a romantic now
→ lava_boy erm i’ve always been one get out 🤓
percysbeth no cause yn has actually dressed up as a shark
→ lava_boy send pics or it didn’t happen
→ percysbeth check imsg
→ shark_girl i thought that was PRIVATE
→ lava_boy LMFAOO U LOOKED SO GOOFY
→ shark_girl you’re done….
｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ hello….. first smau done 😎 hopefully u really like this bc i died ten times whilst making it !!! uhmm pls lmk what you thought about it 🥲!!! i was sort of rushing at the end, so umm.. shhh 🤫…. @thelostheroo @amoosarte
also i will have a master list soon….???? (hopefully) and my requests are OPEN! so, plsplsplspls request…. con amor, mo!
#𐙚 graceslcver#₊˚ ⊹ my writings#leo valdez#leo valdez x reader#leo valdez x you#leo valdez x y/n#leo valdez x daughter of poseidon#heroes of olympus#heroes of olympus x reader#pjo x reader#jason grace#piper mclean#percy jackson#pjo fanfic#percy pjo
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