#H. HIGH PONYTAIL

[catcze]

Just to be clear JUST TO BE CLEAR I am not a Diluc simp bc I’m still mad at him for coming home instead of Mona or Jean 🙄

That being said, goddamn that motherfuckibg red outfit bro

[wiiwarechronicles]

I hate when people lower madoka’s pigtails when they draw her. STOP IT!!! They are high on her head and very charming like that tthank you very much

[hwajin]

☆.° — [ hushed ] hhj

— fem!reader // nsfw // warnings: implied unprotected sex, implied coming inside, semi-public sex (but honestly not rlly), this is not a follower event fic!! i couldn't not write this tho, it's super rushed my bad 🙏

A click of the door, Hyunjin's side facing you, catching a glimpse of his messy ponytail by the bottom of his neck, salvating at the line of muscles visible against white top with the stretch of his body. You were his all attention not moments later again, hands on your body, finding hips instinctively, his eyes on you — though your gaze lay elsewhere. Fixated on pointy shoulder, on glistening collarbones, on veiny arms. On the necklace around sweaty neck, dangling with every thrust. A sight you couldn't imagine others than you got to lay eyes upon, a sight so seductive, so teasing you were sure he's done it on purpose.

He'd already been pent up and sweat-laced when he had pulled you into the empty room, one he'd reserved for different purposes than him and you were using it for now, yet glad nontheless to have found an undisturbed place. You had fallen upon each other's bodies like animals in hunger, full of desire, of longing. Your fingers had played with the damp of his hair in his neck, his own ones had drawn shapes along your body, had pulled and groped you to his liking — had eventually guided you to take a seat in his lap, had fiddled with the hem of your underwear, had simply moved them aside after all, impatiently, hastily. Groans and hushed words of mutual libido filling the room entirely.

And now he was deep inside you, thrusting up repeadetly, sounds of pleasure leaving him shamelessly — you thanked the heavens for soundproof rooms. His delicate fingers, long and caressing everywhere he could, connected fiddle strings against the whole of your skin with every of his touch, bounding you to him. His thumb hooked under your chin and you were forced — guided — to look at him, his face. And you fell weak when eyes met, let out a sound nothing but pathetic, stuttering in your fluid motions against him and he let a chuckle, throaty, airy; driving you further to insanity. It was the confidence he carried himself with, the utter knowledge, the awareness of every effect he had on you, of every of your thought when you as much as looked at him. It was him who drove you closer to where you needed to be, painfully close almost and you could feel it on your tongue, sweet, anticipated, needed. Hyunjin's hands on your waist to stabilize and he sensed your every sign of approaching orgasm, so connected thumb to clit and drew figures eight, messily, carelessly though with effect, surely — and he knew. Your eyes in the back of your head, your composure giving out, Hyunjin the only one putting in work at this point — your legs tired, your body risking to collapse, your senses overtaken by him and him entirely.

And you came with a force most vigorous, clashing hips against his own and he watched you, took you in, the sight, the smell, the sound, the taste of your skin; took all of it in to remember for a lifetime and longer. And he followed shortly after with whines high pitched, with brows furrowed and lips caught between his teeth, hips stuttering, spurting release, painting you white, caging in your tired body within his arms. Breathing against your skin in matters heavy, hot breath against hotter body, drawing shivers where it met — five minutes only, and he had booked the room for another hour.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @a-cute-french-fry @felixinameadowandthesuniswarm @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife

[cranberryjuice-posts]

If your still taking requests, could you do a Clarisse x Fem Child of Aphrodite reader who was a cheerleader before coming to camp and still has her uniform.

She remembers she has it and trys it on, it still fits and she feels nostalgic so she goes somewhere secluded to practice her old cheers. Doing all the tricks and blackflips.

Meanwhile Clarisse wants to see her favorite girl but can't find her so she goes looking and finds reader doing all that stuff?

Thanks! - Marshmellow🤍

- 1! 2! Ready go! -

Pairings - Clarisse Larue x Fem! cheerleader! Reader

An - this is my last request YALL should do totes send more

You had done cheer since you could remember. Elementary, middle school, basketball, competition and football cheer, even to your freshman year of high-school.

That all changed though when you had been claimed by your godly parent. You figured only a summer at camp would be sufficient and you could go back to your old school and continue cheer! That back fired however After a group of monsters attack a cheer camp you went too.

You didn’t mind at first, giving up the sport. But now sitting on your bed holding your old cheer uniform you couldn’t help but miss the sport. Some of your favorite memories were made in it after all.

An idea soon came to you however. If you put it on and did a few tricks it wouldn’t hurt right..?. Only one way to find out.

A little tight around the chest, and the skirt was much smaller than you last remembered, the uniform still fit perfectly. Throwing on a pair of white tennis shoes and pulling your hair back into a signature ponytail with a bow you ran out your cabin.

——

The arena was empty as most campers were off playing capture the flag, conveniently your ‘ankle still hurt’ so you were allowed to sit out.

You let out a deep breath and adjusted your grip on your pompoms. Mentally prepping yourself before counting off. “1-2.. 1234——

“ Go team! Go team!

Who do we mean?

We'll say it loud,

Because we're proud.

P-A-N-T-H-E-R-S!

Panther pride! Panther pride!

We're steppin' up, so step aside!

We're the best; we're here to win

Panther power's here again!”

The feeling of doing an old cheer brought back an old sense of adrenaline. You shook your pompoms above your head with a wide smile.

“V-I-C-T-O-R-Y!

We're gonna win the game

And you wanna know why?

'Cause we've got spirit

And we're riding high, so

V-I-C-T-O-R-Y!”

Tossing the pompoms aside you let out a deep breath. Doing a round off back hand spring while sticking the landing you panted. It had been a while since you had last some the tricks showing you were out of practice.

In the distance you heart a slow clapping. Looking over nervously you saw clarisse sitting on the bench near by you. “Why didn’t you ever tell me I was dating a cheerleader? I mean damn there’s something’s I’d like to brag about” she teased making her way over to you, grabbing your waist and admiring your uniform

“You brag to much as it is you don’t need another thing to add to that list” you gave her a slight unamused look. “And by your good attitude I take it you won?”

Clarisses grin confirmed your suspicions. She kissed you, once again squeezing your waist slightly. “Yeah you definitely won” you smiled.

“Obivously, you really think I was just gonna let annabeth embarrass my cabin again? No fucking way— ” with one final squeeze to your waist Clarisse started to lead you out of the arena.

You tried to stop her mainly because of how exposed you were in your uniform but the other woman didn’t seem to really care.

YN - Clarisse half My Ass is out let me go change

Clarisse - nah it’s fine besides you look cute in your uniform

[stvharrngton]

three or four times

a/n: my weaknesses are titles and endings so I apologise if they are horrible ghsjdjdj. the more I read this the more I dislike it but I just couldn’t leave it unfinished

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!fem reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: enemies to lovers sorta, a little angsty, swearing, steve pining asf

prompt: “last time i checked, you guys were at each others' throats. how come you're sending heart eyes every time you see her now?"

requests are open!

The first time Steve thought you were pretty was in high school. You a year younger, leaning against your locker books held close to your chest, talking to another girl from your year - someone from Steve’s history class he was sure.

The way the pink skirt you wore hugged your waist, teased at your thighs, the clean frilly white socks a stark contrast to your dirty Converse. You giggled with your friend as you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. Steve was gone right there and then, your laugh intoxicating - the way your lips reached your cheeks sending a pang right to his heart.

I’m in love, Steve thought.

He sauntered past you and your friend - Rachel, maybe? Nah. A smirk plastered on his face, his hand raised so he could wiggle his fingers at you in greeting, his left eye closing in a wink. Tommy H and his friends hollering in a trail after him, clasping him on the shoulder.

I hate Steve Harrington, you thought. And his dickbag friends.

The second time Steve thought you were pretty was during the fall of 1984. Your younger brother having claimed Steve as his sidekick for whatever problem he was trying to solve. You rolled your eyes at the notion of Dustin being involved with Steve, claiming he was an asshole.

But as you ended up with your brother, Max and Lucas and unfortunately, Steve, at the junkyard trapped in the broken down bus your irritation subsided for fear. You shielded the kids behind you whilst you watched Steve cling onto his studded bat - ready to swing.

Once the Demodogs had scampered off and the coast was clear, he turned to you and the kids. All charming smile and smugness complete with that damn wink again. You rolled your eyes at the gesture.

“Knock it off, Harrington,” you scoffed, “let’s go.”

Arms crossing over your chest hugging yourself as you all began the long walk home, attempting to provide a slither of comfort to your cold body. Eyes trained on Lucas and Max bickering in front of you, Steve and Dustin lingering behind you. 

Steve couldn’t stop staring. Granted, it was dark and he was staring at the back of your head but his eyes were glued to your figure. When you turned your head to check on Dustin he caught a glimpse of your face.

Cheeks pink and the tip of your nose tinted red, eyes glassy and your hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, two curly strands framing either side of your face. Steve’s brow furrowing at the thought of you being cold; wanting to wrap you up in the biggest blanket he owned. You were cute, Steve thought. So very cute.

When you finally made it back to your house, you sped up to your front door ready to be greeted by the warmth of the inside, Dustin held Steve back - his arm falling back against his stomach to stop him.

A glance at you before he turned to the older boy next to him, “What’s going on with you?” Dustin whispered.

“What?” his eyes fell over to you, watching you dig in your pockets for your key, “What are you talkin’ about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me! I’ve seen you ogling her all day!”

Steve scoffed, “Your sister? Henderson I-“

“You’ve been making googly eyes at her all day, Steve! Whatever this is,” Dustin mocked, fingers drawing imaginary lines between you and Steve, “stop it. She’s off limits.”

Finally fishing the key from your jacket pocket, you turned it in the lock, your brows joining together at the sight of Steve and Dustin having some sort of agitated conversation, “Dustin! Move your ass, come on.” you whisper-shouted into the night.

“Coming!” Dustin called out to you, rushing his way over to your house, not before he turned back to Steve, “Off. Limits.” he stated, gesturing back to you.

Steve could only hold his hands up in defeat, waving you both inside your house before beginning the walk down the street to his own. It was then that Steve Harrington forced himself to hate you for the sake of your meddling little brother.

The third time Steve thought you were pretty was the beginning of summer ‘85. The thick Indiana air hot and sticky, all busy days at the local pool and cherry slushies. Steve managed to get a job at the new Starcourt mall - Scoops Ahoy ice cream parlour complete with the uniform of a sailor.

Unfortunately for Steve that job came with a co-worker, that co-worker being your best friend, Robin. Making your appearances at Scoops reoccurring and making Steve’s situation ten times harder than it already was.

As if on cue, you sauntered into the ice cream shop making a beeline for the counter and Steve couldn’t help but stare, cloth wiping the counter in circular motion on automatic. You looked pretty, so pretty, no, beautiful actually. High-waisted denim shorts pulled in at your waist with a cute red belt, tight black t-shirt donning the logo of the clothing store you worked at hugging your chest, finished with your red-rimmed sunglasses in the shape of hearts perched on top of your head, freckles sprayed across your face.

Your soft pudgy thighs on show for everyone to see and it drove him crazy, you did it on purpose, he swore. You dinged the bell on the counter obnoxiously, snapping the boy back to reality.

Steve scrambled to look natural, like he wasn’t so obviously staring at you.

“Nice get up, Harrington.” you teased, an outstretched finger pointing to his outfit.

He rolled his eyes at you, “Can I suggest you get some new jokes?” scooper in hand, ready, “The usual, Henderson?”

“And can I suggest you become less of an asshole?” you said, “but yes, please.”

The boy scoffed at you, “Sure, anything for you.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes now, slapping your dollar bills down on the counter and snatching the small cup of mint choc chip from Steve. 

“You’re welcome!” he shouted after you as you went to sit at your usual booth to wait for Robin. You didn’t mean to be such a brat but you couldn’t help it; Steve just irritated you. It’s not like you didn’t want to get along with him, but he was just unnecessarily mean lately so you gave it back as good as you got.

Storming through to the back Steve slumped into one of the chairs in the break room, hards carding through his hair in pure frustration. He sighed, calling out to his co-worker, “Robin! That piece of work you call a best friend is out there waiting for you!”

“Have you tried, I don't know, actually talking to her instead of bickering all the time?” Robin pondered, “I think you would actually get along great.” A scowl her only response.

Robin left Steve in the break room wondering if there was any chance that you felt the same and why the hell he was letting your little brother control his love life.

Present day and Steve was head over heels, he was convinced.

You could only grimace when Dustin invited you over to Steve’s place - an afternoon by the pool in his backyard where he would be shirtless? Awful, you thought. But your brother insisted he needed a ride and that Robin would be there and so you reluctantly agreed. 

Steve could only gawp when you arrived, Dustin in tow. Tiny shorts that barely covered your ass, red strap of your bikini top peaking beneath your shirt as it hung off your shoulder. 

Sweet brown eyes trained on you all day from behind his signature black RayBans, Steve was sure if anyone could see his pupils they would be blown, full of affection for someone he could never have. A soft smile plastered all over his face as he watched you giggle with your brother and his friends, as you lathered yourself in suncream, kicking himself when he didn’t offer to help when you couldn’t quite reach your back.

Steve sat at the edge of the pool, long legs dangling in the cool of the water. Palms pressed into the flat of the grass, head back letting the sun kiss all of his moles and freckles in the way he wished you would. A nudge to his knee brought his gaze back down to the culprit.

“Last time I checked, you guys were at each others’ throats. How come you’re sending heart eyes every time you see her now?” Robin questioned, eyes looking up at Steve before glancing back at you on the sun lounger.

Fuck. He tried not to be obvious, thought the sunglasses would shield his eyes from everyone else. That they would hide the way his gaze lingered a little too long on the cherry red bikini you wore, how the barely there ties were high on your hips, how you looked so damn pretty.

“I literally have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, Robin.” 

Robin simply chuckled at the boy, “Sure, Stevie. Do you like her?”

A sigh, a shrug. Steve really couldn’t be bothered to have this conversation with his co-worker turned best friend right now. Especially when you were here looking like that by his pool.

As the afternoon turned into evening, the energy of the group simmered down a little. The kids moving inside to devour and pick at the pizza and snacks provided. Steve watched you from his kitchen - beer in hand as your feet curled into the grass beneath. A shit mumbled from his lips, he made his way outside to you, sitting on the lounger next to yours.

“Hey,” he whispered, “how come you’re outside by yourself?”

Never looking at him, you shrugged, “I like the quiet.”

Steve watched through his lashes as you sipped your beer, lips turned down, no sparkle in your eyes. You looked sad. All he could muster was a nod in reply.

Your tongue clicked against your teeth, you turned to Steve now, “Why do you hate me, Steve?” you paused, eyes glassy as they bore into his dark brown ones.

His brows furrowed together at your question, “Hate you? I don’t hate you, what makes you say that?” he feigned ignorance.

You shrugged, the label on your beer bottle becoming more interesting. “Dunno, I just- you’re so mean sometimes.”

Steve’s heart shattered into pieces, he was sure, like you reached right into his chest and stomped all over it. If only you knew how he really felt.

“I don't-” he stammered, looking for some sort of reason to give you, like you had just caught him in headlights, “I can’t, you just have to believe me, sweetheart. I don’t want to be mean.” 

The endearing term all but stopped you in your tracks. You sniffled, bleary eyes narrowing questioning what he was saying, “What do you mean?”

Shit. Shit, shit, fuck. Well, it was now or never, Steve thought.

“It was Dustin.” Steve hushed, like he almost didn’t want to nark on your little brother. Like he didn’t want to admit he let a 14 year old have a say in his love life.

“Dustin?!” you screeched, “What do you mean, Dustin?” Arms flailing into your lap.

“I- he said you were off limits, that I couldn’t, that we couldn't..” he trailed off, “so I thought it might be easier this way, I wouldn’t fall hopelessly in love but I was so wrong.”

“Steve,” you whined, “why on Earth would you listen to that little shithead?”

The boy chuckled, fingers tugging at his brown locks, shrugging, “He was just trying to protect you, I kinda admired it.” he paused, contemplating what to say next, “And I don’t exactly have the best track record,” his gaze flicked down to the ground now, “I know you thought I was an asshole in high school.”

You rolled your eyes now, “That was high school, Steve. It’s not like you’re the King of Hawkins High anymore, right?” you said, hopeful.

A breathy laugh left his lips as he nodded, his eye trained on you as he watched you stand and sit yourself next to him on the lounger. Knees knocking and shoulders brushing.

“Did you mean it?” you asked.

“Hm?” he looked up at you with confusion.

“What you said,” a smile toying on your lips, eyelashes fluttering up at the boy, “that you were hopelessly in love with me?”

A blush crept across his cheeks, heat prickling the back of his neck but he grinned at you nonetheless, “Yeah, yeah I did.”

Steve laced his fingers with your own then, the foreign feeling welcome and comforting. A touch that said I'm here and I'll take whatever you're willing to give me. Steve’s gaze fell to your lips, plump and inviting, before climbing back to your eyes. 

You shifted next to him, your free hand came to sit on top of his thigh as you inched ever closer. Then Steve’s lips were on yours. It was soft and slow, the dim taste of warm beer and his strawberry chapstick crowding your senses. You sighed into the kiss, Steve licking into you all pretty, like he had been wanting to do this for a long, long time.

His hand came to cup your cheek, thumb soothing the pink of your sunburn as you broke the kiss. Chest heaving and Steve's forehead resting against your own. Eyes dreamy and thick with honey, nothing but pure adoration washing over his features.

You both burst into a fit of giggles, eyes lighting up like the stars in the night sky. Giddy and full of excitement.

“Good to know.” 

[inf3ct3dd]

HOT TO GO!

warnings: gay ppl (ewwww omg 🙄🙄)

authors note: im a sucker for a barista au, what can i say 😕 also im obsessed w this song rn

5,6,5-6-7-8!

you started prepping the coffee beans, pouring them into a large class container while you moved your head back and forth, music blasting through your headphones.

you loved working the opening shift. most people definitely would not, but giving that you had an insane sleep schedule and were already awake at 4am, you decided to take it.

your favorite part? you worked by yourself.

you had always loved doing weird shit in your room. acting out fake scenarios, having fake concerts, dancing around to music, girly shit!!! but having a roommate, a very reserved quiet girl named amy who went to sleep at 9pm every night (weirdoooo…) you didn’t have very much…freedom.

but the opening shift? you could be as weird as you wanted to. it was basically like your room, if your room was a coffee shop.

you walked into the supply room, still dancing around to your music. you were grabbing random milks and flavorings to bring back to the front, when you started singing into one of the milk containers as you walked back.

you set it down in its proper place, now spinning yourself around and checking that everything was in its place. you bounced on your feet, music still blaring in your ears.

“H-O-T-T-O-G-O U CAN TAKE ME HOT TO GO!”

you suddenly had a background in cheer, singing along to the chant in the song and shaping your arms into the letters, adding in your own random choreography you made up.

you look at the clock, reading [4:45 AM], indicating you’ll be opening soon.

most people didn’t show up til at least 5:30, so you knew you had nothing to worry about, deciding to make yourself a drink.

well, what you cant see cant hurt you, right?

a girl approached the glass entrance of the coffee shop, stopping to read the hours.

you were still lost in your own world, mixing your chai latte while dancing and singing behind the counter. you were very into it, committing to the fake choreo you made yourself for the chorus. you mixed your chai and oat milk together, shaking them in the mixing cup while moving your hips back and forth and switching sides with the cup you were shaking.

the girl quickly noticed you, and a smile crept onto her face as she watched you move around. you didn’t notice her at all, still lost in your musical barista-ing.

you effortlessly scooped some ice into your cup, pouring the latte over it and putting a cap on. you’re moving in an almost perfect rhythm, your movements matching the beats of the song. a cheesy smile is plastered as you finish, drawing a smiley-face on your cup before taking a sip.

you look up to the clock, seeing its now 5:00, and you have to move the “open” sign. you take a sip of your drink first, closing your eyes in contentment as you taste it.

“perfect!”

the girl is still looking at you through the glass, enamored by how happy you are at 5 in the morning. you completely contrasted her. your bright sweater under your overalls, curls pulled up into a high ponytail, and glasses now sitting low on your nose seemed to fit your personality (or her rough impression of it from staring at you for five minutes) perfectly. she almost wishes you don’t notice her, you seem so in your element.

her wishes are not obeyed, as you look over at the door and lock eyes with her almost immediately, slightly jumping at her sudden presence and the fact that she was most definitely staring at you.

how long has she been there….

you lower your headphones onto your neck, music still leaking through.

you look at the girl for a second, taking in her features (or what you can see from across the cafe), and the main note you got was gay.

and kinda hot.

she had redish-brown hair, cut into a mullet stopping at the bottom of her neck. her jade-green eyes were staring right at you, and they perfectly complimented the brown freckles adorning her face. she had layered a dark grey long sleeve with a black band tee, with a pair of greyish-blue jeans and some seriously fucked up converse.

you quickly snap out of your daze, setting your drink down and walking over to the door. you flip the open sign over so it reveals the “open” side to the people entering, and unlock the door for the girl.

“sorry for the uh…wait? i dunno how long you were out there.”

she lightly giggles before walking into the store.

“yeah, you seemed like you were having a good time.”

you offer a laugh in response, walking behind the order counter.

she definitely saw me.

“you know what you want?”

you slightly wince at your words, feeling not very customer-service-y. your nerves were getting the best of you.

“hm…i dunno, whats that?”

ellie gestures towards your drink.

“my favorite! its just a chai latte, but i put oat milk and brown sugar syrup!”

you smile, content with your reply. it clearly rubs off on the brunette, as she smiles back at you.

“does it come with a performance?”

you roll your eyes at her response, laughing slightly.

“nah, gotta pay extra for that.”

you type her order into the cashier, still smiling.

“how much?” she jokingly asks, making the both of you giggle.

you look down at her hands on the counter , fingers slightly tapping it, the sound of her silver rings hitting it quietly repeating.

those are some homosexual hands.

“can i get that hot though? my professors classroom’s fuckin freezing.”

you laugh again, giving her a nod and changing the order in the system.

“is that it, window stalker?”

she chuckles at you.

“should be, twinkle toes.”

you roll your eyes at her, grabbing a cup and your pen.

“you got a real name, or should i just put that?”

“ellie. do you have a real name?”

you give her your name, writing hers down on the cup, along with a heart and some sparkles.

she repeats your name, nodding before paying and leaning on the counter of the pickup area.

you make her drink, still moving around a bit as you make it. you cant help it!!! you’re happyyyy :))

ellies really taking the stalker thing to heart, trying her hardest not to stare. but she CANT, you just look too perfect to not admire. shes never seen someone this giddy at work.

you decide to make a simple heart design with the milk, expertly pouring it into a perfect shape.

you proudly walk over to the pickup area, setting the drink down in front of you.

“here.”

you slide the drink in front of her, a proud smile plastered on your face.

she stares at the drink, face practically lighting up.

“wow, all this for me?”

she says, fake shocked.

a heart? is this how baristas flirt?

“cute drink for a cute girl.”

you look back at her, and see her features overcome by a slight red tint.

she smiles back at you, taking the cup into her hands and turning it over to see her name on the side, adorned with hearts and sparkles. adorable.

without a second thought you walk over to your cashier station. ellies shocked by your sudden disappearance, and slightly disappointed. but she cheers up when she sees you’re writing something down.

you walk back over to her, number in hand, and a cheesy grin on your face.

“here. so you don’t have to sit outside and stare at me anymore.”

she graciously accepts the paper, putting it in her pocket.

“who said this is gonna stop me? i enjoyed the show.”

[uvobreakmylegs]

Chosen

basically the Amateur Night section from the movie V/H/S but with more wlw

vampire! Machi x female! reader

💕Happy Valentine's Day💕

Warnings: creepy behavior, allusions to noncon/dubcon, implied death, implied violence, manipulation, mind control

Word count: 5.3k

You wanted to talk to her.

She sat next to you at the table, and you couldn't help the way your eyes would continuously go over to her, taking in different things about her appearance every time you would steal a glance. Her pink hair that was kept up in a ponytail was one of the first things you noted, followed by the pretty shade of blue of her eyes and the pale shade of her lipstick. The dark purple dress she was wearing suited her, though you had to wonder if the high collar of the garment made things uncomfortable given the rather humid air in the bar. Although she seemed comfortable enough, so it must not have been an issue for her.

You really wanted to talk to her.

Unfortunately, the current situation you found yourself in wasn't allowing that to happen. Not very easily.

A hand brushed against your shoulder, and your attention was brought back to the guy who was sitting way closer than you liked, crowding you in so you had no easy way out.

“You sure you don't want a drink?” he asked over the music in the bar.

“I've got a drink,” you answered, smiling as you lifted up the glass that you were careful not to let out of your sight.

“Then how about shots?”

“Nah, no thanks.”

“Aw, don't be boring.”

“I'm good,” you cheerfully reiterated, adding “maybe one of your friends will do it.”

“But I want you to do it.”

You laughed, trying your best to keep your annoyance hidden as he continued to push for you to drink more.

You didn't like this guy at all.

You wouldn't be sitting with him were it not for the fact that he and one of his friends had managed to effectively trap you where you were sitting: the two men came up on either side of the table where you were sitting and asked if the other seats were taken in the same moment that they sat down next to you. Since you had foolishly picked an area where the seats were right up against the wall, you couldn't get out without them moving out of the way.

And it was very clear that the guy sitting next to you didn't intend on leaving you alone.

Despite being in a crowded bar, you didn't feel safe trying to bring attention to your predicament. The conflict-averse part of you felt it was better to try and get out of this without causing a scene, so you smiled and pretended to entertain him while you waited for your opportunity to get away.

You thought you found your opportunity when the one on the other side of you got up to get himself a drink, and you kept the guy next to you distracted as you subtly collected your purse into your lap, ready to make a quick exit.

That was when she showed up.

The duo of men were actually a trio, and their third came sauntering up to the table with her, telling her to take the seat next to you. He tried to place his hand on her lower back but stopped when she gave him a sharp glare that made him back off, holding up his hands in mock surrender while she slid in next to you.

You could've asked her to move – tell that to her and this new guy before they settled in. And surely she would have no issue complying even if it would annoy the two men.

But after taking one look at her, you decided not to.

Instead, you said nothing as she sat down. And after the two of you made eye contact, you smiled and introduced yourself.

She nodded in response before giving you her name – Machi.

You couldn't explain it at all, why you decided to stay. There was something else, something about her that drew you in. What it was exactly you couldn't quite pinpoint; at best all you could say was that she had a certain aura about her that mystified you that part of you wanted to describe as being otherworldly, and that was enough to have you wishing that you could know more.

But so far the only words that the two of you had managed to exchange were your initial greetings, as the two guys that were now blocking both of you in were eager to have you drink your fill while they chatted you up. It looked pretty obvious to you where they were hoping this would go: you and Machi going home with them while being too inebriated to offer much in terms of resistance. That was the sense you got from the way the looked at you two and how the guy next to you – did he say his name was Jeremy? – kept finding reasons to put his hands on you. You felt your skin burning every time he touched you, but you fought the urge to push him away.

That was what you got for going out to a bar alone.

But maybe you and Machi could get out of this together.

You glanced over to her again while Jeremy was talking about something, and you found that she appeared just as disinterested in the man sitting next to her – his name might have been Glen – as she had been when he first herded her over here. Her eyes were still on the drink that he had placed in front of her earlier – that she had yet to even touch – and she wasn't giving him much of a reaction to anything he said. Her responses were generally short.

That didn't seem to dissuade him much, and you glanced over a short while later just in time to see him reaching for her hand.

She turned her head away from you to face him, and you could only assume that she was glaring at him again as he backed off immediately, once more holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Though you couldn't help but notice that the smile that accompanied that gesture seemed a lot more forced now.

That could be bad.

You needed to bring your attention back to Jeremy as you heard him speaking to you again.

“What do you think you'll be doing once you're done here?” he asked you.

“I'm not sure,” you answered.

He grinned as he leaned in closer, saying “we rented a room not far from here. You should come with us; we'll have more drinks.”

Oh fuck no

“I don't know,” you said, “I'm not sure how much more drinking I want to do tonight.”

“You're being boring again.”

“They're both being boring,” Glen chimed in, pointing to Machi's drink as he added “she hasn't touched what I got her at all.”

“I don't like it,” Machi told him.

“Why didn't you tell me earlier?”

“You didn't ask.”

Sensing that his friend was losing his patience, Jeremy cut in.

“You should drink it anyway. It's polite,” he told her.

“See? You're outvoted two to one. You should take a sip,” Glen said.

"No."

At that point, you felt compelled to step in as well.

“I agree with Machi. She doesn't need to drink it if she doesn't want to,” you said.

“Oh, come on! You're not supposed to team up against us,” Jeremy told you in a teasing tone.

“Then you shouldn't be giving us a reason to team up in the first place,” you said. Your tone had been just as light, and the slightly awkward moment ended when the third guy of their friend group (who you had almost managed to completely forget about) came back and Glen handed him Machi's untouched drink. He seemed a bit confused for a second before eventually wandering off with it.

Jeremy had never lost his good spirits, but you couldn't help but notice the way Glen glared at you, and you immediately didn't feel good. You didn't like the thought of staying around him any longer than you needed to.

Machi was quiet again, though the two of you managed to make eye contact again, at which you smiled at her.

She gave you a brief, small nod, seemingly as a way to quietly thank you.

It continued like that, Jeremy becoming subtly but increasingly insistent on you drinking more with him. All you could do was politely laugh it off. Meanwhile there was a one-sided conversation going on between Machi and Glen, who was doing all of the talking while she didn't even make an attempt to pretend to be interested in what he was saying. And then the third guy returned to the table for a brief moment without the drink he'd been handed before, but quickly went back out onto the floor, wandering towards another woman who seemed to be on her own.

You had no clue how long things stayed like this, though the moment felt never-ending.

Jeremy leaned in towards you suddenly, and the way he encroached on your space forced you to back away. Unfortunately, you ended up scooting right up against Machi.

“Ah- sorry,” you said to her.

She shrugged, saying “it's alright.”

Despite the minimal interaction between you two, Glen seemed to get annoyed by it, telling her “you've been talking to her more than you've been talking to me. What's up with that?”

“You haven't been saying anything all that interesting,” Machi told him.

“So that's why you're ignoring me?”

She shrugged.

“Why are you even here if all you're going to do is act like a bitch?” he asked.

“Weren't you the one who dragged me over here?” she asked in response.

He didn't say anything in response to that, but you could tell now that he was getting angry. Even Jeremy seemed worried about where the interaction was going to go, staying quiet while trying to silently tell his friend to stop whatever he was thinking.

You chose then to interject once more, clapping your hands to get everyone's attention.

“Hey! I changed my mind,” you said aloud, turning to Jeremy as you said “I'll do shots as long as everyone else does. Why don't you and your friend go get some for us?”

“…. Uh, yeah, okay.”

Jeremy stood and signaled for Glen to go with him. And after a few seconds, he reluctantly left his seat, walking away with his friend towards the crowded bar to collect the drinks. With them at the bar and the third guy whose name you still didn't know at the other side of the room talking to the same woman you saw him approaching earlier, it was just you and Machi now.

You turned to her as you said “I think he's getting really mad at you.”

She looked over to you before simply replying with a “I noticed.”

“Aren't you worried? What if he tries to do something?” you asked.

“He can try but it won't make much difference.”

“And besides,” she added, “he won't dare to do anything while we're here. Not unless he wants everyone in here to come down on him.”

“But you won't have that safety if he gets you alone,” you pointed out.

“I know.”

If she knew that, then why wasn't she leaving?

Before you were able to say anything along those lines, Machi beat you to it as she said “you should probably head off before they come back.”

Looking back to where the men were standing, she was right that now was a good time to escape. There appeared to be some sort of hold-up at the bar as there were a lot of people clustered around there now; no doubt the poor bartenders were desperately trying to get through all the drink orders quickly to avoid any potential verbal abuse from the patrons who would likely get angry if their order took too long. Jeremy and Glen were still in the same place, both men straining their necks to look over the people in front of them. And the third guy was still talking to that woman, though she was looking increasingly uncomfortable as he leaned in closer to her.

If you wanted to leave without incident, now was your chance.

“Like you said, things could get bad if we end up alone,” Machi added, “I doubt you want to get caught up in that.”

…. She was telling you to leave.

But she'd be staying?

After a moment, you shook your head.

“I don't want to leave yet,” you said.

Machi's gaze narrowed as she looked at you.

“There's no way you're actually interested in either of them,” she said.

“How can you tell?”

“Because I've been feeling the way you cringe every time that one touches you. Unless you like torturing yourself, you have no reason to stay here,” Machi said.

“I have a reason,” you replied.

“And what's that?”

“I don't want to leave you alone with them.”

Machi only raised an eyebrow at you.

You continued, saying “I'm really worried about you now. I don't get why you aren't leaving yourself, but after seeing the way that guy looked at you, I don't feel good at the thought of leaving you alone with him.”

“So you're staying because you're worried about me,” she stated.

You nodded.

She didn't look impressed.

“That's nice of you, I guess, but you should really just leave. Despite how it might look, I can handle those idiots. I don't need someone to look after me,” she told you.

The tone in her voice indicated that she was annoyed with you.

Despite that, you decided to persist, cutting in before she spoke again.

“I'm sorry,” you said, “I'm not trying to annoy you, and I'm definitely not trying to belittle you or anything. I am really worried about what those guys might try to do to you, but that isn't the only reason why I'm staying.”

Machi's expression remained flat as she asked “what's the other reason?”

You ran your fingernail along the side of your glass, leaving marks in the condensation. It was nerve-wracking to try and build up the courage to admit that you were interested in her. After all, she didn't seem impressed with anyone around her; why would she ever be interested in you?

But you might as well shoot your shot, right?

“You seem really interesting and I'd like to get to know you,” you answered.

“Get to know me?” she asked.

“Like a one-on-one over a cup of coffee sometime. Or something else if that's what you'd prefer. Whatever would suit you best.”

You felt the heat building up in your cheeks as you said that and you couldn't make eye contact with her. Just how embarrassed did you look right now?

“….. Oh.”

From the way she said that, it seemed like she understood what you meant, and when you glanced over, you found that she looked a bit surprised at your confession. Machi then looked back to the empty surface of the table in front of her, and you followed suit by turning your gaze to the glass in your hands.

She wasn't upset, was she?

The two of you remained quiet for a few moments within the noisy atmosphere of the bar. The men weren't back yet. Their third was still desperately talking to that poor woman, but the ones who seemed most interested in you and Machi were nowhere to be seen. Though it felt like it was only a matter of time before they came back and you two would be trapped by them again.

In a perfect world, you and Machi would ditch those three and go somewhere else.

It seemed like that might be what ended up happening, as Machi was staying quiet. While she didn't seem as irritated as she had earlier, her reaction didn't necessarily point to anything positive for you.

There wasn't much to be done if she wasn't interested. If that was the case, the best thing you could do was make yourself scarce like she'd been telling you to do.

“I can leave you alone, though,” you said, “I understand if that's what you want.”

You realized after you spoke that your voice had been a bit too quiet in the loud space of the bar and you would likely need to repeat yourself if you wanted to be heard.

But somehow she did hear you as she answered “I don't know now.”

You blinked.

“You don't know?” you asked, confused.

“I don't know if I want you to leave me alone or not.”

“Oh.”

That was a good sign, right? Ah, crap. You'd never felt so flustered around someone else before this.

“I guess it's a bit surprising you'd say that when I've got that one guy hovering around me,” she said.

“I probably wouldn't have if it wasn't for the fact that you really hate him,” you answered.

“I don't hate him; he's not worth hating,” she replied.

“But you don't like him.”

“No.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you said “I really don't understand why you're hanging around these guys. Why?”

She dodged the question, answering with “we're discussing you, remember?”

“You're not even trying to hide the fact that you're avoiding my question,” you said.

“Nope.”

Machi's tapped her fingers on the table as she asked “still want to get to know me?”

“Yeah,” you answered without hesitation.

“You're weird,” she said.

You shrugged.

“I'll take weird. Being weird isn't always that bad,” you said.

“There are things that are worse than being weird,” she agreed, before adding “but I'm not sure why you're so interested in me.”

Probably not a good idea to word-vomit everything you'd been thinking about her. Probably better to say something that made at least a little bit of sense.

“I feel like we might work really well together,” you said.

She hummed.

“Based on what?” Machi asked.

“A hunch.”

It wasn't a great reason, but you couldn't think of anything other than that.

But you noticed the way Machi blinked after you said that.

And then, after a moment, she surprised you when she smiled to herself.

“Did I say something funny?” you asked.

“A little bit."

"Funny in a good way or a bad way?"

"A good way,” Machi answered.

She leaned her head against her hand as she said “I think I'd like to learn more about you, too.”

You felt your heart flutter as she said that and you smiled back at her.

If only that moment wasn't ruined by Glen and Jeremy returning to the table, carrying two small glasses each that were placed down in front of you while they apologized for the hold up. One of those glasses was slid across the surface of the table in front of you, and Jeremy told you to drink up.

Crap. You'd managed to forget how the excuse you'd used to get them away from you. After explicitly asking for drinks, there'd be a bad reaction if you refused them. You glanced over to Machi and found that the pleasant look on her face from earlier was gone, her lips once more set in a small frown. Yet she still picked up the glass that had been given to her. When she noticed you looking at her, she gave you a small nod. So she felt you should drink?

You felt better about it, then. You weren't about to trust Jeremy or his friends, but you could trust Machi.

The alcohol burned as it went down your throat, and the two men laughed at you when you made a face after swallowing it. Some water would've been nice to wash the taste out.

Machi's hand lightly touched your shoulder as she asked if you were alright, and you nodded, making a comment about how you didn't care much for the taste.

Glen seemed to be in a better mood now, which made you feel a bit better. Though with the return of the two men, you were now in the same predicament you'd been in before: unable to leave without causing some sort of issue with them, which by now you definitely didn't want to do. While it was nice to know that Machi was also a little interested in you, you didn't know how the two of you could ditch them. Especially with Machi being weird about her motives. You couldn't even ask about that now with the two of them crowding around you.

Hopefully you could figure something out.

The return to the situation you'd been stuck in for the past half-hour didn't last very long. At the other end of the bar, you heard a woman scream, and like everyone else in the room, your head turned to see the cause of the cry just in time to see a woman slapping that unnamed third guy across the face while yelling some choice words at him.

The two men with you reacted immediately. Glen got up to head to their third's rescue while Jeremy stood and hurriedly told the two of you “we should leave before they kick us out.”

“But we haven't done anything,” you said.

“Yeah, but you're with us,” he answered.

You were ready to argue with him on that point; every part of you was ready to throw him under the bus if just so you could finally get away from them, but Machi stopped you before you could say anything, tapping your shoulder to get your attention.

Looking you in the eye, she said “let's go with him.”

Within an instant all thoughts of arguing with Jeremy went out the window, and you blankly nodded with her suggestion.

There were more raised voices as you got up, and it sounded as though several people were becoming angry and possibly aggressive – you couldn't say for sure, however. You were only focused on the feeling of Machi's hand in yours as the both of you followed the guy out of the bar.

The skin of her palm and fingers felt slightly calloused, you idly thought.

When you snapped back to reality, you and Machi were on the sidewalk standing next to a car. Looking around revealed that Jeremy was heading back to the bar, where it sounded a lot louder now. Had things escalated inside?

All the more reason to leave now.

Turning back towards Machi, whose hand was still in yours, you asked “neither of us like those guys, right?”

She nodded.

“Then why don't we run really fast and get away before they get here?”

“I don't think you can run right now,” she said.

“Then we can walk really fast,” you replied.

Machi smiled a little, but shook her head.

You frowned.

“Did you mean it when you said that you wanted to learn about me?” you asked.

“Yeah, I did,” Machi said.

“Then why-”

“I need to do something first,” she said, “but after I'm done with them, we can ditch them for good.”

You didn't get a chance to ask what she needed them for, because her hand went to cup your cheek and her eyes looked into yours as she spoke again. For some reason, you felt as though you were taking in the information, yet you couldn't hear it. The words were connecting with some part of your subconscious as opposed to your mind; all your brain could focus on was the touch of her skin on yours, the pretty shade of blue of her eyes and the color of her lipstick.

Things that didn't involve Machi were hard to make out now. Your vision was fuzzy and it felt like you had cotton stuffed into your ears, the voices of other people that were also leaving the bar being hard to make out.

But every time Machi spoke, you could hear her clearly. Like when you were ushered into a car by the three men – when did they come back? – and you vaguely felt a hand on your back that shoved you across the seat, you heard her voice loud and clear as she firmly said “don't hit her.”

There was a car ride. Where the men were situated in the car you had no idea. But Machi sat next to you in the back seat, between you and one of the men. Sitting up began to feel strenuous, and you ended up with your cheek resting on her shoulder.

Her hand was still on your arm, reassuring you with soft touches, and you felt better.

By the time the car trip ended, you were having difficulty standing, and Machi needed to help you up the stairs of what appeared to be the upper level of a cheap motel. With the area being relatively quiet, you could hear now that the men were laughing, though their conversations were harder to make out.

The scenery changed again, and now you were inside a poorly lit motel room equipped with two beds that, under normal circumstances, you wouldn't want to even touch. But you didn't protest when Machi led you to one of them and laid you down on top of it, the scratchy bed cover not enough to keep you from the sleep that was now forcing you to close your eyes.

One of the men took issue with that, and you had enough awareness to know when he slapped you across the face. Yet that didn't manage to rouse you.

It felt like whoever had slapped you was about to do it again only to be abruptly stopped.

And then you heard her speak once more before blacking out completely.

“I said don't hit her.”

You didn't recognize the bedroom you woke up in.

After opening your eyes and blearily looking about the room for a few moments, that realization had you sitting upright, looking over yourself while trying to recall your last memory.

Your clothes were still on, so that was a good sign. But when it came to remembering everything that had happened, it became a little more spotty.

You'd been out at a bar. By yourself, which was a dumb move on your part since you attracted a trio of pests. Then you met Machi. You two managed to talk and it seemed like she might like you at least a little. And then you both were outside of the bar at some point.

After that….. Nothing.

You had no memory of what had happened after, where you'd gone from there or how you ended up in a darkened bedroom that seemed slightly cluttered. It was clearly morning, though, if the bits of light coming through the small spaces of the blinds were to be believed.

Where was Machi?

You only needed to look to the side of the bed that you hadn't checked to learn the answer to that. She lay next to you, facing away so all you really saw was messy pink hair sticking out from beneath the covers. But you must have made enough noise when you woke up because she turned towards you moments later, sitting up as well as she said “hey.”

“Hey,” you answered.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, I think,” you said.

“I've got painkillers if you need any,” Machi said.

You didn't answer at first, distracted by the sight of her with her hair down, though you eventually remembered to reply as you said “I'm okay, but thanks.”

You sounded a bit distant, and she seemed to pick up on that.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

���Ah, I guess I'm just a little weirded out that I don't remember much of what happened last night,” you admitted.

“Maybe you drank too much.”

You didn't feel like that was the case, but you couldn't think of anything else. Or maybe it had something to do with the alcohol those guys had gotten for you.

Oh, right. Those three.

“What happened to those guys?” you asked her.

“They were at that motel last I saw,” Machi answered.

“But we're not at the motel.”

“No, this is my place.”

“But how did we end up here?” you asked.

“They were barely in a better state than you,” she said, “I slipped out with you once I saw a good opportunity.”

“Oh. Okay.”

They must have been more shitfaced than you realized. Didn't you get into a car with one of them driving? That was a bit more scary to think about, what might have happened if they were really that inebriated.

Luckily you were here now.

Then you added “thanks for taking me with you. I hope it wasn't too much trouble to drag me around with you.”

“It wasn't. But if you feel bad, you can make it up to me by having that one-on-one conversation you want over breakfast,” she said.

“Sounds good to me.”

With that, both of you were prompted to leave the bed, and as Machi made her way towards the bedroom door, instinct had you pulling the covers back over once you were standing, wanting to have the bed looking somewhat presentable at the very least.

Didn't you end up on a different bed at first last night?

You paused as bits and pieces came back to mind. An uncomfortable bed with an equally uncomfortable sheets. Raised voices. A scuffle.

Blood.

… When did that happen?

Machi called out to you, and you turned to her.

“Did you get hurt last night?” you asked.

“No.”

Her tone was nonchalant.

You questioned her again as you asked “did I get hurt?”

“No.”

“…. That's weird.”

“What is?”

“I feel like I remember seeing a lot of blood at one point,” you said.

Spattered across the floor and dripping down the walls, almost everything in sight coated in red. Even you – you could feel it sticking to the exposed parts of your skin, on your face, and you accidentally got a taste when you ran your tongue over your lips. It didn't feel good, and the smell in the air was overwhelming, like the particles were clogging up your nose. You made a move to get up from the bed you were laying on, wanting to leave.

Someone set their sights on you as soon as you did that.

“You didn't see any blood last night; you probably just had a nightmare,” Machi told you.

Ah. That made sense. After all, you'd looked over yourself when you woke up, and you would've noticed if there had been any blood on you. But it was just a nightmare, so it was better not to dwell on it.

That was such a weird thing to dream about, though.

You were walking towards her when another thought came to mind, that question that she'd avoided answering.

“Hey, you never told me what it was you wanted from those three. Why did you need to go with them?” you asked.

Machi waited until you had reached her, and this time she held out her hand to cup your cheek, her blue eyes staring directly into yours.

Blue eyes stared down at you from where you lay on the bed, a hand resting lightly on your chest as she pushed you back down. There was a groaning coming from behind her on the second bed, and if you were able to tear your gaze away from her, you might have seen the figures that were sprawled across it.

But you were too focused on everything about her: her hand traveling up to stroke your hair, the pretty shade of blue of her eyes and the deep red color that now covered her lips and dripped down from her mouth.

“It isn't important, so don't ask about it again,” Machi told you.

Within a moment, all of those thoughts were locked away into the deepest recesses of your mind, willed to never surface for as long as possible. You smiled at her as you cheerfully told her “okay!”

There was warmth in your heart when you saw that soft smile of hers once more.

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Games in the library 18+ MDNI

Aemond x reader (Tutor/gamer au) Fluffish and also smuttish

Tags: smut, library fucking, public sex and nerdy gamer references.

Cool devider credits: saradika

🔷Summary: Your GPA is tanking and you need help. Luckily there is the grumpy antisocial Aemond to help you out.

🔷Author's note: Based on tutor aus but I made my own spin on it.

🔷Wordcount :7324

🔷Warnings: Au universe, smut, desk fucking, p in v, dom/sub, reader x aemond, fluff, gamer references, cozy gamer gf and shoot-em-up bf (found something else? Let me know)

There have been quite a few storms lately, causing more rain and making the world a little gloomy. You don’t mind, however. You have always been a fan of rain. Unlike today, where it’s an extra reminder how much you rather spent inside, cooped up with a good game with a warm cup of hot chocolate, not running around your campus with your bag above your head, as if life depends on it.

You are relieved when you make it inside, in the beautiful library that was built long before you began this study. You notice a silver-haired boy with a missing eye sitting in the corner of the room, with his math books in front of him, impatiently glaring around, unaware you are already there. “Hi!” you enthusiastically say, placing your Starbucks coffee cup and handbag on the table in the big messy library you just entered. It’s a saturday so most students would not want to be found death here at this time. 

You have a reason to be here, sadly. You are failing math, falling behind more and more on the subject. So your professor, Borros assigned you a very unwillingly tutor, Aemond Targaryen. He sighed when Borros suggested he should tutor you, even going as far to say that there is no use in tutoring someone who does not want to learn. There is truth in that, but the issue is not that you don’t want to learn. It’s something else.

Aemond glares at your cup before standing up and checking the time on his expensive smartwatch. “Why are you late?” Great. You were afraid of not getting here in time, seems like your Starbucks trip took a little longer than you had planned out.

You take out your phone. You are exactly 5 minutes late. There was a big line in front of Starbucks. And you forget you had tutoring today, to begin with. “I—uhm—forgot the time.” You lie.

He looks at your Starbucks cup accusingly. If it had feelings, the cup would feel attacked, perhaps even insulted, before it would hop off the large wooden table and into a nearby trashcan, ending itself. You would gladly follow it in the rabbit hole trashcan.  “I’m sacrificing my free Saturday for you. The least you could do is get here on time.” There is always a bit of a gruff, Gringe-like edge to his voice as if someone just stole his presents and he is pissed.

You huff. He acts so high and mighty, and yet you know there is nothing personal about this. He does not help you because he is some godly angel. He helps you to get points. This is not a charity project for him, or a social project this is cold selfishness and part of his plan to become the best student of your class, likely a step 4 in his 10 plan step to world domination.

You smile sweetly when adjusting your ponytail. “You aren’t sacrificing anything. You get points and the chance to become Borros’s TA.’’ You tell him, dangling his reward in front of him as if it’s a carrot, just in case he thought about bailing.

He dreams of that position for some reason, though you can’t for the love of the gods figure out why. Perhaps for status, power, future learning references or just to get close to Borros? Your teacher  had hinted that if he could somehow get you to improve your grades, there might be a chance he would become his teacher's assistant. That was enough to sway Aemond into teaching you.

Aemond briefly pushes his gold-rimmed glasses back on his nose, smirking at you.  You feel a little nervous under his gaze. “Correct. That means that I decide how this lesson will proceed.’’ 

His cryptic description makes your mind wander back to the familiar gutter you have come to know so well. You  make a mental note to stop reading dark romance books with tutors for a while. 

You ignore him. That makes him eager to get your attention back. “No calls, no texts—for the next hour, you are at my mercy.” Sweet gods.

His soft pink lips briefly smack before breaking into a grin that sends shivers down your spine. You are thankful for the small bolero that covers your dress.

Aemond is a huge nerd. Kinda cute, but he doesn’t know how innuendos work. And he is certainly not aiming his innuendos at you. 

“Okay. So, you’re like good at math, right?’’ you ask, a little insecure. You are worried he might not actually teach you anything at all, though he is smart, his hands almost always scorching through the air as though Borros is personally offending him with his questions. He reads advanced math books whenever you and your girlfriends hang out in the library, shooting glares whenever you are too loud, giggling or gossiping.

He seems insulted that you think so lowly of him.”’I’m the best in our class.” You never really kept eye on who is the best of the class, and you do not really ever cared. Who cares, as long as you keep up your GPA it is all fine.

But you are not dumb, you need to keep him as your friend for now. At least your ally. Your accomplice? You don’t know. You think you would be all the way at the bottom. ‘’Impressive.’’ You say, but you can’t bother to meet his eye before taking a sip of your very delicious pumpkin spice late.

His head tilts slightly when he narrows his eyes suspiciously, reading you as a open book. He huffs. “I can tell you don’t give a damn. Take out your notebooks, study books and whatever else you might need. It is time we start.” Whatever else you might need? You feel dread and anxiety fill your chest as you become aware of your thoughts traveling already far away from the lesson.

He brought an adorable little digital clock, that he puts on the table gently, before turning it on, exactly 120 minutes. He really does not want to be here a second longer than he has to be.

You faithfully take out your notebooks decorated with Sanrio stickers, Pokémon stickers and panda stickers, as well as your textbook, and your collection of Hello Kitty gel pens. You put it all out for him to see, flicking the textbook open in front of you. 

Aemond stands up, briefly looking over your handwriting in your notebook. He wets his lips before speaking. “Good girl.”

You roll your eyes.

He gets up from the chair across the table, walking to the empty seat next to you. He sits down, glancing at some of your previous sums, together with little drabbles and doodles. “So—what do you have problems with?” 

You can feel the warmth of his body and smell the fabric softener he uses on his clothes. He probably does his own laundry. 

This will be a long hour. You sigh, before summing it up. “Addition and subtraction, analog time, multiplication and division…’’ And you forget dozens of other things.

Anything and everything that involves numbers. You have been that way since a kid, throwing tantrums whenever you were forced to do math or make a puzzle. Your brain blacks out whenever you are forced to make a sum, and after a while your brain is just completely fried.

He wrinkles his nose, thinking. “So, everything?’’ he summarizes dryly. 

You nod. “Yep.”

His good eye slightly widens. “I can do this,” he mutters, to himself more than to you. He taps on an empty page of your notebook with his fingers.

‘’Write down ‘twenty-five plus eighty-seven’.”

You obey, faithfully writing the sum down in your notebook with your favorite Hello Kitty glitter pens. 

Aemond looks at the pen with a sigh, bending over your notebook to see what you wrote down. His brows furrow. 

You try your best to focus on his voice and his words rather than the fact that he sits so close to you and smells like fresh strawberries.

‘’Alright. Next, write down ‘one hundred and fifty-nine plus ninety-four’.” Again, you write it down as best as you can, in a reasonably readable handwriting. You hear him curse under his breath, exhaling.

“Five hundred and thirty-two plus six hundred and fifty-six..” 

You write a bit faster, messing up a few of the numbers in the process. You are glad you are starting with the addition sums, as they come the easiest to you.  

“Lastly, three hundred and fifty-five plus four hundred and sixty-six.’’ He looks at your sums. With one glance at his face, you can tell you’ve already fucked it up. “I said ‘one hundred and ninety-five’, but you’ve written down ‘one hundred and fifty-nine’. I said ‘six hundred-and-sixty-five’, but you wrote down ‘six hundred and fifty-six’.” 

Great. He must think you are doing it on purpose. Embarrassed, you quickly scratch out the numbers you wrote down before sighing, cursing yourself for thinking this was going to solve anything.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” he wonders. “Do you even want my help?” The nerve of this man. 

“What do you think?” you snap, placing the cap back on your Hello Kitty gel pens. “You think you’re my first tutor? You think you’re the first who’s tried to help me? I’ve done all of this before, but none of it matters. Nothing will stick anyway.” 

Your voice becomes squeaky. You blink rapidly to avoid ruining your mascara. He must think you are so stupid. You are. So, so stupid.

Aemond looks over your work again, sighing and rubbing his face. “No,” he murmurs quietly. “You turn them around. Some of the numbers.” 

That has been an issue since you were introduced to numbers. That and the bigger they get, the bigger the chance you mess it up.

“No shit,” you huff, searching your handbag for your tissues. You find them buried under your perfume bottle and use them to wipe at your eyes. 

His feet move under the table, briefly touching yours.

“Don’t get mean. Just making an observation.’’ He scratches behind his ear. “What do you mean, ‘nothing  will stick’?” 

Great. He will piss himself with laughter when he hears this.

You’d rather not tell him, or anyone, really. It is embarrassing. You are a twenty-two-year-old girl who can’t divide the simplest numbers and, without a digital clock, you’d get nowhere on time. You wouldn’t even know the time. People can and have taken advantage of that just to bully you. “It’s complicated,” you say.

His usual gruff voice softens. “Alright. So, tell me.”

What is the harm? you wonder. Who is he even going to tell?

“I’ve got a non-verbal learning disorder,�� you mumble. There. He knows.

“What?” he asks, a little too loud for your liking. Even if he had whispered, it would have been too loud. There is no one here, yet you are worried somehow someone heard.

You growl back, “Non-verbal learning disorder. NLD.” 

It is a little less common than dyslexia—a lot less common, actually. You have heard that dyscalculia and NLD is a very common combination. That might be the reason you are so horrible at math. Part of your brain just refuses to understand it, which frustrates you, which makes you upset, and all that means you’d very much rather not do math at all. 

Aemond becomes very quiet before admitting something you never thought you’d hear. “I’ve never heard of that.” 

Where could he have, though? He is very clearly a math expert, not a learning disorder expert. 

You look at your polished pink nails with gold glitter.

“Hm. Not surprised. You are perfect after all, aren’t you?” you ask.

He becomes grumpy and unbearable, as you become mad and perhaps jealous that he is so perfectly fine and normal, and boring. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” 

Aemond takes out his phone. You thought they were ‘forbidden’. Didn’t he say so earlier? You glare, insulted. You have a social life, after all, and the world suddenly seems far more beautiful than it had been before you began your suffering here. 

“So, are you telling me you don’t know how late it is now?” He shoves a Wikipedia page in your face. He looked it up.

You take out your phone. “Of course I do. It’s fifteen-thirty.” 

You don’t say the correct time. You say ‘fifteen-thirty’. Fifteen thirty. Not half over past something, am or pm bullshit. You say it how it is. It’s fifteen-thirty.

Aemond draws a clock in your notebook. You quite like the way he uses your Hello Kitty gel pen for it. “And in analog time, that would be?” He wonders, his voice trailing off when his one remaining good eye glances at you.

You shake your head as he draws two hands on the clock, and multiple numbers. “Oh, no one cares about those lame old clocks,” you smoothly lie, and it is part of the truth. 

No one uses those old lame clocks anymore. Everyone and their mother has a cellphone. Why bother reading a clock if you have a cellphone? And in your case—why bother reading a language your brain seems to not understand anyway?

Aemond sighs, reading you easily. He scratches the clock out. “You can’t read them, can you?” He asks after he has scratched them out. You can either deny it or lie about it but why waste energy and time?

This man is too observant. 

“I know that the big one up means ‘twelve’,” you say with a little smile, very proud that one thing did decided to stick.

You can see it on his face—it’s becoming more and more clear that you don’t need a tutor. You need a miracle.  

He blurts out a question. “How did you even leave high school?” he asks. You don’t think he meant to hurt you, but he still does.

“How did you lose your eye?” you ask, lashing out.

Aemond sits up a little straighter. “That’s quite a personal question—” 

You smile back, still furious and hiding your displeasure by ripping your nails.  “Exactly.” you groan.

“Fine,” he mutters. “I’m sorry. I’m impressed, if anything.’’

Fake sympathy. Yeah. 

This is a waste of time, you didn’t learn years ago, why would you learn it now? Why did you even came here to begin with? A little voice reminds you of just why you came over. “You don’t need to lie to me. I know I’m stupid,” you mutter when playing with your bracelet. 

Aemond grabs your wrist, letting go almost the second his skin touches yours. “You’re not stupid. I know you can be very clever and an absolute pain in the ass when you want to be.” He grins. “Just… not with numbers.” He closes your notebook.

“Really?”

You know you are clever on other fronts. It’s just difficult to believe you aren’t stupid when you see how advanced your peers and friends are and you still struggle over middle school math.

He nods. “Yeah. I remember for a while in History and Language that you were a threat to my position as best student.’’ 

You’d liked History for a while, it’s true. You were good at it—that is, until you got a social life and it became an afterthought. What might have happened if you had stayed on that path?

You don’t understand why he wants to be the best. “I mean, you are already first in math, aren’t you?” 

He should not push for perfection as much as he does.

He shrugs. “I don’t care. I have to be the best in everything.” It sounds empty. You might not be the only one with problems.

You try telling him what you think. “That’s a little… unhealthy.”

He snaps at you, suddenly scowling. “Well, I don’t have a rich daddy to pay my way into school.” 

Ah. That is his issue with you. He thinks you’re a rich little girl that has a daddy that pays for everything.

You stare at your pink nails, briefly ripping at them before speaking. “I don’t either. Mine died when I was two. I have a stepfather, but he’s too busy fucking my mom and arranging vacations to Dorne for the two of them to bother with me.’’

Aemond’s chest sinks a little, regret written across his face. “I’m sorry.” 

He sounds sincere. And, just like that, you realize your math session has turned into a therapy session. 

You laugh despite your sadness. “Look at me, trauma-dumping all over you. Sorry.” 

You open your notebook at the same moment that Aemond grabs your fingers.

“I think you’ve earned a break.” He awkwardly lets go of you again.

That’s fast. “We haven’t solved a single sum,” you say. “I mean, we can solve one. I think this one is doable…” 

You look at your crossed-out sums. Oh, yeah. That happened. 

His silver-haired head nods up and down, but he does not answer at first, staring at your nails. “Perhaps not. But we have discovered why you have issues with this. Go take a break. That’s an order.”

He cheekily smirks at you, causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. Perhaps not butterflies—perhaps just straight-up lust. You want to pull this guy in by his sweater and give him a good tumble.

You lick your lips. ‘’Yeah? What will you do if I don’t, sir?’’

He leans in a little closer, his eye flickering to your ruler lying untouched on the table. “Let’s just say… you wouldn’t like to find out.’’

Aemond takes a bottle of water from his bag and a sandwich while you grab a hot chocolate from the machine in the library and a freshly baked muffin from your bag. 

You eat your muffin and then take out your Nintendo Switch bag, starting the device up for a brief moment of relaxation. You play Animal Crossing for a few minutes, forgetting the world around you as you’re sucked into your peaceful little island.

Aemond is very silent as well, staring mostly at you.

“I’ve got one too.” You are sucked out of your island and back into reality. 

‘’Huh?’’ He nods to the switch.

He means a Switch. You didn’t think he would be into games. You think he would be too busy studying, really.

“What game are you playing?” he asks, tilting his head, coming a little closer so he can see for himself, almost touching your skin in the process as he clumsily bumps into you. ‘’Sorry.’’ He murmurs.

“A very intense one,” you comment as a compilation happens on your screen. You want to restore your island from desertcore to cottagecore and right now, one of your villagers has decided to be a menace. 

On Aemond’s lips grows an almost dreamy smile as he stares at you playing on your Switch. “Oh—like Xenoblades? Zelda? Hades?” 

You’ve heard of all three, but haven’t played them. They are not games you think you would like. They sound difficult, full of combat, full of puzzles and full of realisation that you are stupid. So you stay far, far away from them.

“Animal Crossing!” You turn your Switch so he can see your former desert island as you turn it back into a cute aesthetic-worthy village. 

He tries to blink, but he only has one eye so it looks a little awkward. “That is your definition of ‘intense’?” 

It can be. It can be so intense you rage-quit. Some of these animals have no manners—you’ve certainly bullied a fair few off your island. 

“You try terraforming your island when a lazy villager sits in the way!” You point with your finger to the panda cub that sits in the way, right where you want to plant a bush. “That’s Chester, and right now he’s making my life hell—” 

The panda, or Chester, enjoys a sandwich while smiling at your avatar, unaware of the misery he is 

causing.

“That panda is?” Aemond asks, confused. “The panda is the issue? Can’t you tell him to move?” 

That would be so helpful. But, unfortunately, no—that is not an option. 

You nod, turning your Switch back to you. “He just won’t leave. I can hit him with a net, but he would hate me,” you mutter. “Pushing him is useless. He’s, like, glued to this spot.”

Aemond smiles to himself. “Perhaps he is saying we should return to studying.” Chester would say that, the menace. He has not given you his photo either, the bear knows too much.

“He says to me that I can have five more minutes,” you say, smiling and blinking your eyes innocently. 

He sighs deeply, exhaling before putting his arm under his head, watching you terraform around your island. “Cute.” He sits up straight, blushing and quickly pointing to your Switch, decorated with stickers from Stardew Valley. “I meant, uh, the stickers.” He quickly mutters, and you can’t hide your own smile.

The stickers are cute, but you can’t help but wonder if he wasn’t talking about something else. “Thanks, they’re from Stardew Valley.” 

“I heard that game—” Whatever Aemond would say next would forever be a mystery. He is rudely interrupted by your fan dumping all over him, telling him the plot, the main features, and your personal opinion of the game in the world-wide record of 4 minutes as you ramble. “You’re kinda supposed to help this town flourish by bringing crops you grow, artisan stuff, to this community center. You can also romance and have children and have a pet. There is like magic too, but I wish it was more fleshed out-’’ You shut up quickly. You put your switch down.

He nods, but you can tell you are losing his interest. 

“You can slay monsters, too,” you blurt out. “And you have different swords, weapons and stuff. Sorry. I kinda ramble.”

“I like it. It’s cute when you ramble.’’ Damn it. You feel your cheeks redden. Aemond watches the rain outside, before asking another question about Stardew Valley. ‘’Can I kill my spouse?” he asks as a follow up. 

You know the modding community is very active, but they are like about dogs and cat breeds, about teleportation hacks and making portraits better. Not about you know, full-blown murder. “No…”

He frowns as if that surprises him. “Is there warfare? Can I take other people’s farms? Is there a princess for me to save?” No, no, and no.

You understand you two play different games.

“No, not really. It does have multiplayer, though.”

Aemond’s scoffing little smirk returns but it does not meet his hurt and very glossy eye. “I’m kinda a loner.” He laughs but there is a hidden sadness there. A sadness you relate too all too well.

“I am, too,” you say. 

“You have dozens of friends.”  You can still have friends and be alone.

He refers to the girls that you hang out with. Are they friends? You don’t hang out aside from the weekend. You can’t call them, if something has happened to you, and they definitely don’t know you game or have NLD. 

“Yes,” you say, “but…none of them game, I guess? Like, in that way, I’m alone. And I don’t make friends easily. Not everyone likes the games I play. Some wouldn’t even call it gaming. So, what kind of games do you like to play?”

He suddenly becomes interested in his very well cared for nails, and you know you hit a weak spot.

“Crusader Kings II, Zelda, Hades, Xenoblades and shooters.” He tells you. ‘’Mostly single-players.’’

You don’t know Crusader kings, but judging by the name, you do not have a cute farm at day and a run a witchy cozy coven at night. “The bloody ones.”

He snaps his head to you, smirking a bit.

‘’Zelda is not bloody.’’ Before he looks at your hair and your lipstick. ‘’I think you actually like it, if you gave it a chance.’’ He says. ‘’I mean, there is dozens of npcs to talk to, a wonderful open world, and ingredients to forage and outfits to collect and to find. In a way, it is Stardew Valley but without the Valley.’’

He definitely heard about Stardew Valley before. ‘’You know a lot about Stardew.’’

He nods. ‘’My sister, Helaena, she plays it a lot. I wouldn’t know how to play it, however.’’ He confesses, slightly tilting his hands. ‘’It’s beyond me how you get anything done with a time limit and a stamina bar.’’

You smile, and you never thought you would in his company. ‘’Describe the story. Of that Zelda game.’’ 

He needs some time to think before telling you the main story. ‘’You see, with an adventure game that’s…that would defeat the purpose of playing. So: You are a hero, named Link. After 100 years, you awake in a shrine, and you hear a voice, and you need to save the kingdom and the princess.’’ It sounds very …male-written and male-aimed. You aren’t sure Zelda is for you.

You have another problem with it too.

‘’That sounds horrible. Imagine waking up from your nap, and suddenly you got to save the world.’’

At first he is confused but the moment he knows you are joking, he laughs, a very delightful sweet and welcoming sound. ‘’It starts very locked, but there’s so much you can do in the game, in my honest opinion it's one of their best entries in the series. There’s cooking, horses-’’ Horses? There are horses? And cooking? ‘’There is combat, but you learn quickly, at least I did. The monsters are actually clever, and in the beginning, its best to avoid them until you get decent weapons.’’ You aren’t sure. Combat? The monsters in the skull cave of Stardew Valley regularly kick your ass.  ‘’There are puzzles too-’’ That is where you draw the line. No puzzles.

‘’Hell no. I hate puzzles.’’ You did as a kid, and still as an adult you can’t figure out how some people enjoy putting together these images, made up of 1,000 pieces and when they finish it, they destroy it too. Like what is the point? And it does not help you can never figure out where to start.

‘’I know.’’ That catches you off guard. Aemond does not pressure you into it. He simply accepts it.  ‘’But they are fun. We can solve most problems in multiple ways. You can’t fuck this up, if you are scared of that. Even if you die, you can restart as many times as you like. And no one is going to call you stupid for it.’’ He promises you, when leaning in a little closer, touching your face gently.

‘’Not even you?’’ You ask, for confirmation, not sure why you care but you hate for him to laugh at you for doing something very rookie. 

He shakes his head.  ‘’No. It took me a lot of time to get the hang of it too, if you must know.’’ So he is not as perfect as he pretends to be. ‘’I already told you: I don’t think you are stupid.’’

You lean in a little closer to him, staring at his soft pink lips. You make your voice as dry as possible. ‘’What if I call ‘’Link’’ ‘’Zelda?’’ You ask him with a cheeky grin. Nothing annoys Zelda fans more than that.

He grins back, but has faith in you. ‘’I know you won’t.’’ That is true. You know that the Princess is called ‘’Zelda’’ but the person you play as is called ‘’Link.’’ To confuse the two would be like calling JojaMart Pierre’s general store.  

‘’But what if I do?’’ You ask, getting a little cheeky. ‘’Hm? Sir?’’ You ask, pushing his buttons a little more as you grin. 

He needs to make an effort to hide his smirk, quietly muttering when eyeing the stickers on your switch. ‘’Don’t push me, we are alone after all, and I’m very bored.’’ He murmurs, sending a shiver down your spine when his voice gets that rough edgy little dark edge.

‘’Are you …Interested?’’ You ask, surprised.

He lifts his head, a bit insulted. ‘’You think I would not avoid you like the plague if I wasn’t?’’

All this time you thought he hated you, but he had a crush on you. ‘’I thought you hated me! That I annoyed you!’ 

He blushes, quickly cleaning his glasses for some reason. ‘’No, I just don’t like it when I can’t control my feelings. Like I become very different around you.’’ You noticed. He puts walls around himself.

‘’You become a little angry bird or a Goomba.’’ You know for sure he knows what a Goomba is, and you know it as well. They are the adorable little creatures from Mario games that try to murder Mario and look grumpy.

He chuckles, mortified by your description.

‘’Please, no, gods, not a Goomba.’’ 

You do find the courage to tell him your final thoughts, before flipping your notebook again, picking up where you left with the sums. ‘’If it helps, you are kinda cute too, Aemond.’’ You tell him, and you mean it. ‘’Not that I’m into Goombas, but..Yeah. You’re cute.’’ You tell him.

He nods, absently before he becomes serious again. ‘’Did you ever try motivational tutor lessons?’’ Motivational what?

‘’What uhm do you mean?’’ You ask, a little lost.

He shrugs, smiling. ‘’Well, people are more likely to succeed if there is a reward for them in it.’’ You notice him biting down at his lips, avoiding your eyes.

‘’And uhm, what would my reward be?’’ You ask your body to betray you within mere seconds as you think of how he will reward you. You, on the couch on top of him when fucking him-

He grins, when slowly touching your legs, going to the space between your legs, to where your dress ends. ‘’Whatever you like,’’ he purrs softly in your ear. ‘’ A cup of coffee, a donut…’’

You nod, a little disappointed and curse your dirty mind. That man is a saint for trying with you. Aemond reaches out to grab something close to your textbook and your eyes follow his fingers. ‘’People are likely to succeed more if they are disciplined too.’’ He is just teasing you, you tell your very dirty minded mind.

You know he will make you stand in the corner or perhaps take your phone away. ‘’And what would my punishment be?’’ You ask, dryly when you copy the sums from the textbook.

Aemond sighs. ‘’I won’t do anything you don’t consent to, that is the first lesson.’’ You were taking a sip of your cold coffee and nearly spat it out, all over your textbook as your cheeks burned with interest.

‘’But if you are into a little motivation, I guess I can show you another use for this pretty ruler.’’ He mutters, tapping with the ruler against the palm of his hand. You notice he has excellent self-control. This will be fun.

Yet you are surprised, that the red sweater glass-wearing sniveling little best of the class into BDSM. ‘’You’re into Kink?’’ You ask, your voice is a bit strangled.

‘’That’s not an answer, little brat.’’ 

He totally is. Gods, just your luck, stuck with Aemond Targaryen who is secretly into brat taming. Whatever sums you wanted to make, will certainly get fucked up now.

‘’Do you expect me to really learn better?’’ You hope he understands that your brain is just not a regular brain. It won’t magically solve things now that you are motivated. 

Aemond shakes his head. ‘’I kinda don’t. But it’s alright, love. I won’t get upset with you. Not really, at least.’’ He tells you with a grin. ‘’But I won’t lay a finger on you until I get your consent.’’ Such a gentleman. 

‘’Fine, you’re free to touch me.’’

On his lips, grows a dangerous smirk as he grins, before sitting next to you. ‘’What is the square root of 48?’’ He puts his left hand on your knee and slowly makes his way to your thigh…

Fuck. ‘’Uhm, 4.’’ You blurt out. It is a gamble but you don’t care.

Aemond chuckles before tsking as a disapproving teacher, before grinning and telling you the correct answer. ‘’That would be 6.’’ You growl, a little angry you didn’t know it. But he softly murmurs in your ear, when his hands go over your body. ‘’Take off your coat.’’ He tells you coldy. 

You let out a little squeak. He grins, adding softly. ‘’Again, if you want to, of course.’’

‘’I want you to strip too.’’ You tell him after you have taken your coat off. 

He chuckles, thinking you can’t defeat him. That you don’t know his weakness. But he told you, earlier today without him realizing so.  ‘’You can ask me questions but I know a lot more about math-’’

You interrupt him, smiling.

‘’What year did the Titanic sink?’’

Aemond gawks at you, before thinking deeply. It is a random event that did kill people, but it had no major consequences. ‘’1910?’’ He guesses. You grin. 

‘’1912, take off your shoes.’’ You tell him.

‘’Fuck.’’ he murmurs, but obeys. ‘’If I go with the train at 9:20, and the train takes half an hour-'’ No way you will get that one, so you take your dress off, zipping your zipper down and exposing your black bra and matching knickers. Aemond’s breath catches slightly, exhaling when his pupils enlarge.‘’Good girl.’’ That is enough to worsen your arousal and to harden your nippels. Aemond watches as it happens, a pleased contemptuous smile on his lips. 

‘’Tell me, little Brat. Darwin’s father has four children, Red, orange, yellow and-’’ It is a pattern question. A clear question. Red orange yellow are colors represented in the rainbow. ‘’Green?’’ The moment you said it, you repeat the question silently before growling.

‘’No! "It's Darwin!” You grow out.

He chuckles. ‘’You can keep your pretty knickers and bra on. I want you to sit on my lap.’’ You sit down on his lap, making sure to rub him a tiny bit in the process, to make him wild. He groans in your ear when forcing your ass down. ‘’Such a naughty little brat. And so wet for me too.’’ He murmurs in your ear when his fingers smoothly slide in your knickers, before toying with your folds, touching before inspecting your wetness. You twist on his lap, trying to force the finger to move deeper, harder, and rougher. Aemond pulls you tightly to his chest to avoid you moving at all.

You enjoy his control more than you should. ‘’Fuck…’’ You quietly mutter. He muses happily to himself as you squirm and twist on his lap. 

‘’So tense, are we shy, little brat?’’ He is toying with you, torturing you.

‘’Aemond, please.’’ You beg, helplessly as he begins to fuck your body with his fingers, and you happily fuck his hands, clenching yourself whenever you are allowed. 

You need to find release soon, and he knows it very well judging by his smirk. ‘’I’m afraid I won't listen to that name. You will call me Sir or you will refrain from speaking at all.’’ He says, and your fucked up little brain enjoys it too much.

That is so hot. He has an authority kink. ‘’Fuck!’’

He grins, as he takes a stance behind you.

‘’I’m afraid I can’t allow such crass words.’’

Oh shit. You feel your heart race and your stomach flutter with lust and butterflies and your curious mind wanders. ‘’Aemond…’’ He grabs you briefly by the throat, but he does not make it hurtful. He raises a brow. 

You look at your shoes.

‘’I meant, Sir…’’ Your face is pressed down against the wood of the table, before Aemond growls.

‘’Nothing will save you now, little brat. You are all mine.’’

He grabs the ruler and your cheeks are spanked first with his fingers before he moves on to the iron ruler, hitting your cheeks with precision but hard enough for you to like it. You squirm on the desk, certain you leave a trail of wetness as Aemond uses the ruler on both your ass cheeks, finding a torturous rhythm. And yet you like it. You want it to happen again, you want to brat. ‘’Fuck,’’ you cry out as three of his fingers enter your pussy. His left hand is feeling you up, when his right continues to punish you for your sins. ‘’Sir, sir please!’ You moan.

‘’Are you sorry?’’ He asks, between fucking you on the desk with his hand and spanking you. You nod, furiously. He sighs, letting go of you and his fingers leave your spent wet cunt. ‘’Good. Don’t be naughty again or I will punish you again.’’ He warns you. You want to brat. And you want to brat so hard that he will punish you with his cock this time. 

You bring your own fingers to your entrance but before that you can shove them in, Aemond has grabbed your wrist, painfully twisting it. ‘’Seems like someone can’t behave herself.’’ You nod, furiously as if you regret it deeply. Aemond sighs. ‘’Pull my pants down for me.’’ He tells you, and you inwardly cheer. You get to work, unbuttoning his jeans for him and pulling them down first, before staring at his boxers which barely hide his erected cock. 

You pull his boxers down too, freeing his cock as the red swollen tip is pushed in your face, with clear precum on the edge. ‘’Get on the desk.’’ He tells you. ‘’Bent over it, the way I know you want to.’’ You know what he means very well, and you obey, bending over the desk so he could take you on it.

He sighs before grabbing one of your hands and wrapping your fingers around his cock. ‘’Make me go wild, and I’ll fuck your little needy pussy.’’ You obey, your back turned to him as you try to please him with your fingers rubbing his head and his balls. 

You are bended, and Aemond opens your legs roughly and sharply, before going inside of you with his cock, filling you all the way with his length as you silently whisper. Aemond starts to trust and you become lightheaded and carried away on your pleasure. He fits so well. ‘’Sir,’’ you weakly mutter as he fucks you on the table, your book and hello kitty gel pens still present. Aemond grunts as an animal before grabbing the ruler, smacking your cunt this time, causing you to cry out in pleasure. ‘’Sir!’’ You repeat your own cry, before slamming your hips against his own, begging him to finish you. ‘’Please!’’ 

‘’Such a needy cunny. I’m going to come inside of you, little Princess. You are going to tell all your little whore friends about this, that you got fucked by a man in the library, used as a glorified slave. You will tell them how red and throbbing your little pussy was, and you will not tell anyone it was me. Is that understood, or do you need me to fucking explain it another way?’’ You understand, but you would love another explanation because it sounds so dirty.

‘’Another way. I’m pretty stupid.’’

He glares as if he disagrees with that.

‘’Very well.’’

Aemond grabs you by your hips again, fucking you.

‘’’N-no, Aemond, I have a party tonight-’’ You tell him, begging him to be a bit gentle.

He groans. ‘’I don’t care. Fuck your parties.’’

He did not get invited.

‘’Nhn!’’ You cry out as his cock cruelly fucks you, not giving a damn about your warnings.

Aemond’s lips briefly kiss your sweaty forehead. 

‘’Delicious, such a good cunny.’’ He murmurs, rubbing your cunt until blood sticks to his fingers. You need a little push. Just one tiny push. ‘’And now, you will come for me, my slut. When I tell you, you will come all over my cock, soaking me.’’ You nod, bracing yourself.

Aemond fucks you harder and faster and it becomes difficult to hold your orgasm in. You need to release it, you need to find a release fast. ‘’Sir, please.’’ You beg, helpless. He grins, spanking your needy pussy.

‘’I know, but try to show some self-respect, my little brat.’’ 

You wordlessly wail. He sighs, before impaling you thoroughly and resting his hands on your hips. He whispers in your ear. ‘’Come.’’ You obey, freed from a prisoner and let go when you two fuck each other roughly, your muscles hurting from the rough fucking on the desk. And finally, you come all over his cock, just as he promised you would. He takes you two more times after that, bringing you close to two other orgasms, before denying those two. You are taken without warning and lose your control, coming all over him, earning you a spanking and a rough fucking before he comes inside of you as well, with a lot of curse words and grunts. 

‘’Fuck, Y/N.’’ He murmurs, in your ear. You put your underwear and bra back on. The timer ends, revealing that two whole hours have passed. Aemond dresses himself quickly too, looking at your messy hair and glassy eyes. 

You become aware of the feelings and the urge to run far away from them. ‘’I have to go.’’ You tell him.

Aemond stops you, gently and you know he has become himself again, dropping the dom-act.

‘’No. You seem to know some things about Kink, but after playing with my ladies, I give them aftercare. You deserve a bagel, or a donut, or fuck it, another Starbucks if you want. If we were at my place, I’d prepare a bath for you or give you a message.’’ He rambles on. ‘’Let me buy you something nice for your lunch, and at least walk you home.’’ He asks, no, begs. Your face melts at his sweet manners. 

You put your stuff in your back, as Aemond zips up your dress for you, careful to avoid your hairs. He has done this before. You wonder how many times and with who. ‘’She is judging us.’’ He suddenly whispers, nodding to your hello kitty gel pen. 

After two hours he has become just as mad as you have. ‘’She knows too much, I might drown her into my Starbucks later.’’ You tell him.

He does not approve of that idea.

‘’That would be sad and torture.’’

‘’Fine, I’ll just…put her in my pencil case.’’ You do as you promise him, putting the gel pens in your pencil case.

‘’That’s it, good girl.’’

He winks before following you to Starbucks.

‘’Hey, uhm Aemond?”’ You ask after you are waiting for your order. Aemond looks around a little amazed. He has never been here before, calling it a capitalistic hell. 

‘’Yeah?’’ his hands nervously play with his rings. He can be so adorably shy.

‘’What are you doing tonight?’’ You wonder, hoping you don’t regret this. As in, he does not say no.

‘’Not much, I might actually play Zelda. Why?’’ He wonders.

‘’Want to come to this party with me?’’ You blurt out with a smile.

a/nthank you for reading let me know what you think. there might be a part 2 but i havent decided yet.

The eh creatures above the a/n are goombas.

[winchesterdreamgirl88]

NFSW Alphabet-Dean Winchester

Warning: Smut, 18+, language, Mention of knives

A/n:

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

First thing he would do is make sure you're okay, then he would get a warm towel and clean you off. Then he would bring you water or anything you needed before cuddling you

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Dean would also be very proud of his hands because they are so strong and rough just like him he knows they really turn you on

His favorite body part of yours is your hips because he likes being able to grab onto you and control you

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Dean likes to be risky sometimes even if you are on birth control sometimes he'll cum inside you

If not he cums on your titties

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Dean secretly loves when you tease him and make him jealous on purpose because then he gets to really show you that you are his and no one else's

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Obviously Dean is gonna be very experienced but boy does this man know how to pleasure the hell out of you!!

Don't even get me started on demon Dean because let's be honest best and hottest sex ever!

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Dean likes when you ride him because he gets to focus on you and making you feel good. But he also really enjoys missionary when you lock your legs around him and he can lift your leg up and go fully deep inside you.

F = Foreplay(how much time do they take pleasing you, teasing, etc) (I haven't actually seen anyone do this and I think it's a fun one to add:)

I feel like Dean would be the KING of foreplay. He would definitely be into edging you on and then not letting you cum. He would do this about 3 times or until you've begged him enough

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I feel like Dean would start out goofy like just bullying you and purposely trying to get you a little riled up and then he would take control

But if you make him jealous he will be so serious because he wants you to know that he's in charge of you and he'll make you listen

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Dean has a little bit of hair but not a crazy amount, maybe just like his beard where it's slightly rough but not overwhelming

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Dean is actually very intimate with you because he's so happy to finally be with someone who really loves him and excepts him and helps him

If he's jealous he's not as intimate but he'll still make sure you're okay

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Dean has a very high sex drive so I feel like he would do it a lot

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dean loves choking you because he loves feeling like he has power and control over you. But you also like it because even though he's being dominant you still trust him to not hurt you

Dean also wouldn't mind you being tied up with either a rope or his belt just to control you

I feel like Demon Dean would ABSOLUTELY have a knife kink. Not ever to draw blood but just graze your skin

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

If Dean could have you anywhere and everywhere he could. You and Dean definitely have sex every time you guys are sleeping at the bunker and if Sam isn't around sometimes you guys will try other rooms in the bunker.

SHOWER SEX!!

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He loves seeing you in one of his flannels and some fuzzy socks with your hair in a messy ponytail or bun. If you have your glasses on that's an extra bonus:)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that would hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Dean likes receiving head because you are the best he's ever had

But he could also just sit there and eat you for a long time

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Dean is always really fast and rough because that's who he is

There are definitely times when he's upset you or is sorry or just wants to make you feel better he will take his time and make sure to let you know how special you are to him

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If Dean can have you anywhere he could so if he gets a chance like if Sam leaves to get food or do research you guys usually will end up doing the deed

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I feel like Dean would be really risky with you but he would also make sure you were okay with everything he is doing

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Dean can usually last about 3 or 4, possibly 5 if he's really horny

Demon Dean could go forever as long as he wanted but once you were to tired or sore he would stop

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I feel like since Dean likes teasing and foreplay he would definitely be okay with you having a vibrator if he could control it and tease you with it

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Dean very much likes to tease you because he's the king of foreplay and will make you squirm

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Dean is usually very vocal and his voice is so low and raspy his moans are even deeper and sexier

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Lazy sex I feel like is something that Dean would really like. Especially after a hunt or if you guys have a free day

Car sex. If he's really desperate he'll opt to just do the deed in Baby.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Dean might not be as long as Sam but he can definitely satisfy you. But he's also super thick so he fills you out more

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Dean has a very high sex drive and is usually very handsy in public

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Dean would first clean you, bring you water or food, then he would either give you a back massage or just rub your arm or play with your hair until you fall asleep and then he would spoon you and fall asleep after.

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 9- Shut You Up

Fictober Prompts/Masterlist

Patreon

Warnings- exhibitionism, role-play if you squint, costumes, degradation

-----

“If you can’t be fucking quiet, I’ll find a way to shut you up.” Harry’s words vibrated against her cheek as she leaned against the sink, hands gripping it while his fingers curled inside of her. 

Y/N had known her costume would most definitely get Harry going, but she hadn’t anticipated being dragged into the bathroom at their friend’s halloween party and her skirt being flipped up with his cock grinding against her ass. When she had showed up in a cheer costume, it had dome something to him. He didn’t know himself how hot he would find it, but Y/N had a way of making herself look absolutely delicious in anything she put herself in.

Tiny little skirt and her high ponytail, showing off her neck and the little ‘H’ charm on her necklace, it swished over her ass and Harry had been very quick to get her alone. Her eagerness straight away had been enough to drive the girl mad, but his hand tugging down the protective shorts to keep her from flashing and smacking against the supple flesh was enough to get her dripping. 

“It feels too good.” She whimpered, trying to bite on her lip but failing as she felt the thickness of his cock against her ass. He was cruel, keeping it tucked away, but his finger was fucking into her cunt. The sounds were wet and squelching into the bathroom, a humiliatingly hot reminder of how desperate she got for her boyfriend. His costume was his jersey, eye black smeared under his cheek and his cap backward on his head, showing off his gorgeous face even more with his hair not falling into his face. 

“I can tell. Soaking my hand, for fucks sake.” He chuckled. “But you’re being too loud.  If you can’t do it on your own…” He released his own hand that had steadied himself, bringing it up to her mouth. “Suppose I can shut you up with my fingers.” Without warning, he pushed past her lips and placed two digits into her mouth. “Suck on those and keep fucking quiet. Already showed up in this slutty little thing. Do you want people to hear you being a slut too?” He crooned into her ear. 

She tried to deny it, her denial muffled against his fingers as he curled the ones inside her hole just a little bit. Her eyes lulled closed, leaning over the sink further before Harry's grip on her pulled her back up. “Open your eyes, watch it. Look at what I see when I play with that precious little pussy.”

His hand was slightly hidden under the skirt, and somehow it was hotter. Al she could see was his wrist glistening as he would pull out only to shove them back in. The top of the ensemble had been pushed up, her tits wet and nipples swollen from Harry’s prior mouthing, tummy heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her face was the messiest, lipstick smeared around her and Harry’s mouths and glitter from her cheeks spread around on both of them. There would be no mistaking it when they came out, they’d been up to no good. 

“And now you’re drooling around my fingers. My filthy girl. Can’t believe you… Wanted to be a dirty little cocktease, and now you’re seeing what happens when you do all of that.” He taunted. “Suck on them. Go on, know you love to suck on things.” His cock throbbed against her ass. “Making a mess of both my hands. There we go…” He praised, sliding his fingers deeper into her mouth and making her gag slightly. “Don’t be dramatic, baby. You take my cock so much deeper than that. And you will, once I get you there. Want those cute little Bambi legs to wobble out of here and make sure the rest know that you’re being taken care of.”

The heel of his hand was rubbing against her clit as he fucked into her pussy, his thick fingers reaching places her own couldn’t. It was so good, but she wanted more. She wanted his cock inside of her. Like he could read her mind as she started to rut her ass back against his length, he laughed against her and made her shiver as he kissed her cheek. 

“Not quite yet, baby. I’m not done. But if you want to be a good little cheerleader for me and bounce on my cock when I’ve had my fill of watching you squirm… Maybe I’ll be nice.”

[taintedtort]

hey hey hey~y guess who again?you made it perfectly clear with how happy you are and it makes me even happier that you reacted that way!ehe~e.

i promise i will wait for every one of your works, but i suddenly got an idea while reading one of your works!one about sleeping headcanons.and the idea is, maybe you will be interested to write how reader and characters do each others hairs?like, reader making a character some sort of hairstyle/adding accesory to them and character does so in return.hope my description makes any sense.and as for characters, with Aether, Albedo, Ayaka and Shenhe???

and if its hard to write this request for you, then dont worry!but can you imagine how nice it would be to braid Aether's hairs???and Ayaka being separeted from worlds simplest pleasures certainly deserves little "girl time".no???also i wish you goodest of lucks!

- 🦊 anon

prompt ✧ doing their hair

characters ✧ aether, shenhe, ayaka, xiao, kazuha, wanderer

warnings ✧ gn!reader, none!

a/n ✧ hello again! i added a few more characters if that’s alr? (i also saw your sweet words in my inbox, thank you) ALSO ALSO i’m writing a part 2 for them doing your hair so if you wanna look for that it’ll be up a few days after this

AETHER

✧ he loves letting you do his hair. honestly his arms get tired after a while because it’s so long, but when you do it he just gets to sit back and relax. he wont ask you to do it first, but if you insist you want to he‘ll let you. doesn’t mind going out of his usual hairstyle either, he just lets you play around with it. do whatever you want: high ponytail, claw clip, flowers, colorful clips, etc.

"you want to do my hair? sure, why not."

SHENHE

✧ her hair is very long and sometimes she doesn’t feel like managing it, so that’s where you come in. you gladly offer to brush out and rebraid her hair. she wouldn’t stray far from her original hairstyle, but she may let you do something different with it— no guarantee she‘ll wear it out though. not a fan of clips, her hair is too thick for them anyway. she does very much enjoy your fingers running across her scalp though.

"you’ll brush my hair for me? if you insist."

AYAKA

✧ she thought she wouldn’t like it at first because ayato used to do her hair when they were younger, but she soon figured out that was because he wasn’t gentle. your fingers carefully swept through her hair while pulling it up in her usual ponytail. she ended up closing her eyes without even realizing. when you finished you could tell she was disappointed, so you just continued to play with it. she sat there feeling like she was in heaven. you end up having to do her hair at least once a week.

"would you mind playing with my hair again? please."

XIAO

✧ was reluctant at first. his hair is short so he doesn’t bother doing anything with it and he doesn’t understand why you would want to play with it. you’d have to explain that you think his hair is super soft and that’d it’d be relaxing for him before he agrees. once he feels your nails run across his scalp he’s down. instantly melts against you and might doze off. that gives you the chance to put cute clips in his hair that he’d normally never let you do.

"you think it’s soft? really?"

KAZUHA

✧ he was happy you asked! he had no problem with you putting his hair in braids or adding colorful accessories, he was just glad you were having fun. he wouldn’t get embarrassed when you’d finish one hairstyle before pulling back and snickering a little before starting another. he liked that he was able to make you laugh, even if it was because he looked silly. he’d sit and talk to you, or listen to you talk, and it would overall just be a cute activity.

"having fun?"

WANDERER

✧ you’d have to time your approach right in order for him to let you anywhere near his hair. honestly it was better to not even ask, just run your fingers through his hair after he gets home and flops next to you with a huge, tired sigh. because he’s so tired, the sensation feels heavenly and he’d let himself indulge. if you started tugging at it like you were putting it in a ponytail, he’d pull your hand off, so you have to resist your urges. but i think if you beg enough while he’s in a good mood, he‘ll let you do something with it.

"fine! do as you please. archons, you’re so needy."

[fakesimp]

"Do you, ..like it?" , With Shu Yamino

Warning !

Fluff ; High ponytail ! ; Shy ! Shu Yamino ; Mentions of New Outfit ; Mentions a bit of Sorcery ; Mentions of Kisses ; Mentions of Sex at the end ; Established Relationship

A/n !

My god, I'm going crazy with their new outfits.

➶◜◝➴

He was rustling here and there behind the sliding paper door, you were told to wait for him, your Beloved Sorcerer, here. In front of his changing room, after a moment, you heard him snapping his fingers. And you saw a glimpse of his fire spreading for a second before it disappeared,

"Shu?? Are you okay in there?" "H-huh? Oh yeah I'm, totally okay. Wait for a bit more okay babe?" He said, in a stutter. You let out a chuckle as you nod your head in acknowledgement, "Okay, take your time.."

. . .

And he actually did take his sweet time to prepare whatever that's going on behind the sliding door, you heard him sighed softly, "Is everything okay, Shu? Do you need help?" You asked in a slight worry tone, "O-oh yeah, okay, I.. I think I'm done.." he said a bit unsure of himself.

He then let his little shikigamis, slowly sliding the door open, he looked at you sat quietly in the middle of the room, closing your eyes. Waiting for him to tell you to open them, you can hear him let out a stuttery sigh. "It's Okay Shu.. I believe in you" you comforted him, with eyes still closed of course.

You let out a small laugh, "Well then, I am ready to see what you got" you said as you fixed your sitting position. "Okay.. okay.." he whispered loud enough for you to hear, Shu then took a deep breath. "Close your eyes for me, babe" he requested, and you did exactly what he wants without questioning him.

You trust him.

..Do you?

"...Thanks babe" Shu then told his shikigamis to help you stand up, you were a bit surprised by the sudden touch of a paper on your shoulder, and arms, forcing you to stand up. "Woah woah.. okay okay" you let out a chuckle as you slowly stands up, and then the next second you felt a presence in front of you.

Slightly looming over you, "Okay.. you can now open your eyes" he said as he looked at you a bit nervous. You slowly opened your eyes to see unfamiliar clothing, you blinked multiple times before you look up at your Beloved Sorcerer. Your mouth slightly agape as you look at his face, your hand slowly reaching out to his cheek.

You look at him, nodding your head, "of course I do! I love it-!" You said as you took a step back to see him properly, to see his new outfit, "Look at how stunning you are!" Your continuous compliments made him flushed red. But he stood there, letting you look at his clothes, you walked around him to examine his new clothes.

"You look absolutely, ... astonishing, Shu..." You said making his cheek slightly pink, "Y-yeah? ..thanks.." he whispered as he placed his hand on top of yours that is on his cheek. He leaned his face closer to your palm and kissed them,

"Do you, ..like it?"

The way your jaw slightly dropped when you just realize his long ponytail, your hands just automatically reached out to his ponytail and gently brushed them through your fingers. ".. Beautiful..." You whispered as you then hugged him from behind, burying your face into his long raven hair locks.

Earning a soft chuckle from the Raven, himself, "You, seems to.. like the hair huh?" He asked as his hand gently rubbed against your knuckles. You hummed as you release him from the hug, "You better let me brush your hair." You said as you finally walk back to the front, your hand reached out to his front hair. Slightly brushing them through your fingers, making Shu slightly shiver.

"..Babe.." He whispered so low as he then approached your figure, you look up into his eyes, you both stared at each other for a good minute before leaning into each other and letting your lips collide.

After awhile, you leaned away, breathing slightly ragged as you stare at him, Shu then took off his coat, exposing his arms. You gulped, He looked at you, eyes filled with lust, he then smiled sheepishly,

"..You don't mind if, ..you know..

We go a bit further right?.."

©fakesimp . 2023

A/n !

God, Long Hair, High ponytail Shu, Tskr.

And- And- Did y'all see his hands?!?! What those hands do Shu..

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Your Harry, Your Winner.

a/n: in honour of the manchester city winning the champions league last night, (which for fictional purposes, harry plays for manchester city and is a die hard fan.) here’s a cute lil concept i came up with, enjoy my huns.🫶 🫶

masterlist || ask me anything <3

likes and re-blogs are very much appreciated!!

word count - 7k

in which, you’ve been there since day one when it comes to the love of your life’s football journey, ten years on and your husband harry finally has the chance to play in a me of the biggest games of his career, with your support, he can take on anything, you’ll always be his number one girl.

It was a bright sunny day in July, the sun was shining down against your body as your sunglasses rested on the bridge of your nose, you hair tied up in a high ponytail as you sat on the bench in the park where you were waiting for your boyfriend, Harry.

You were both eighteen when the two of you met, and your relationship had definitely been a whirl wind, it was when you were in the gym, you had just come out of college and wanted to go and get in a quick work out before heading home, he had helped you do the weights when he could see that you needed a bit of help.

Harry was the most perfect boyfriend, he was sports crazy. He loved to play football and it was his lifelong dream to play with Manchester City one day, it would make him the happiest man on earth if that ever happened. He had invited you to the games he played with his local team, and you were always there wearing a shirt with his name on the back of it, cheering him on along with his Mother, Sister and Step-father.

"(Y/N)!" A voice shouted as he approached you, making you remove the sunglasses you were wearing to see who it was.

Your eyes settled on your boyfriend, who was running towards you with wide eyes. "You won't believe what just happened!"

"What? What happened?" You asked, standing up and approaching him, what can you say, your curiosity had piqued.

"I just got scouted by Manchester City!"

He was barely able to contain his excitement as he showed you the piece of paper that he was holding in his hands.

Your eyes widened in surprise, chancing a look down at the letter and letting your eyes skim over it briefly before looking back at him. "What? Are you serious?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! I went to this football camp yesterday, and one of the coaches was from Man City. He saw me play, and he said he was impressed with my skills and wanted me to try out for their academy."

His dream was finally coming true.

This was all he had wanted since you had known him, and now he had finally got it, you couldn't be any more prouder than you were right now.

You felt proud of Harry's achievement and leaned forward to hug him tightly. "That's amazing, H! I always knew you had it in you."

He grinned widely. "Thanks, babe! I couldn't have done it without your support."

You didn't think that you played a massive part in his journey, you hadn't known him when his football journey started, you had only come into his life recently so really, the ones supporting him where his family.

"I promise to come watch you play," You enthused, smiling at your boyfriend. "I'll be cheering you on from the side lines."

That was a promise.

Harry smiled back at you, leaning forward to press a kiss to the crown of your head. "Thank you, (Y/N). You're the best girlfriend ever."

As you opened your eyes on the Tenth of June, 2023, a sense of warmth encased your body, as you turned on your side and slid your arm around your fiancé's waist, snuggling in closer to him like you did every morning.

The sunlight filtered through the curtains, as you lifted your head up slightly to see that your fiancé was fast asleep, eyes closed and face relaxed, breathing steady.

Today was the day, today was the day of the Champions League Final, and your fiancé, Harry was playing in it.

The final was taking place in Istanbul, Turkey and you had flown out to support him seeing as you absolutely wouldn’t miss it for the world. This was his day and his day only.

You knew for a fact how nervous he was feeling, it was one of the biggest games of his career and he had been explaining to you all along that he couldn't mess today up, too many people were relying on him to perform well.

Knowing that he had to get up soon, you gently shook his shoulder and run another hand through his curls (that desperately needed a trim) so that he would flutter his eyes open. "Wake up, sleepy head."

You watched as the man you loved groaned slightly before opening his eyes up and letting his green orbs land on your figure that was resting next to him. He ran a hand through his own hair before sitting up in the bed and entwining your fingers together liked you usually did in the mornings.

"Morning," His raspy voice murmured, as he pressed a kiss to your lips, not caring about the morning breath you both had. "Today's the day...I can't believe it."

You sat up a tiny bit more, and offered him a reassuring smile. "Stop thinking what I know your thinking and just listen to me for a second, your going to do great, you always do, stop worrying and just think positive."

Thinking back to ten years ago when Harry surprised you with the news that he had been scouted by his boy hood team, you knew that he would be going places one day, and he had.

Over the course of his ten year career, he had scored important goals, but not once had he played in a Champions League Final, the last time Manchester City were in the final back in 2021, (where they were beaten by Chelsea.) your fiancé was injured with an ACL injury and couldn't play. It was agonising seeing him in so much pain.

You found him sat on the sofa, head in his hands, as his leg was outstretched on the coffee table, crutches resting next to him, the tv was playing in the background, but you could only focus on him.

Harry had recently torn his ACL in the last game he played, the game right before the 2021 Champions League Final, he had been looking forward to the game all season and now, he had nothing to look forward to.

He was devastated that he wouldn't be able to play for at least nine months.

"H," you gained his attention, taking a seat next to him and placing a hand on his thigh. "Talk to me, what's going on inside that head of yours?"

"I just can't believe that this happened," He spoke, voice laced with emotion. "I've been working so hard for this, and now it's all for nothing."

You were in the crowd when you saw him get tackled by a Liverpool player. He went straight down onto the floor, holding his knee, and soon had to be stretchered off the pitch by the medics, your heart broke in half for him.

He had to be rushed straight to the hospital for a surgery and that was when the doctors confirmed that he would be out for the rest of the season and would just be back in time for the world cup.

"I know, sweet boy," You nodded your head, resting your head on his shoulder and inhaling his familiar scent. "But you have to remember that they're will be other games, you'll have plenty of opportunities to score in the FA cup final, I've got faith in you, we all do."

"But this was the Champions League Final," He lifted his head and let out a small sniffle as he wiped at his under eyes. "It's like the biggest game of the season...I wanted to be out there with my team."

"I know you did," You sympathised. "And everyone on that team knows just how hard you have been working, you've been working harder then anyone else, but you have to understand that they'll want you to take care of yourself, that's all they'll want."

He then leaned his head slightly against your shoulder and heard him let out a small sigh, another tear falling down his cheeks." I just hate feeling like I let everyone down."

"H, listen to me, you did not let a single person down," You informed him firmly, making him smile slightly at your tone of voice, despite the ache his leg was currently feeling. "You got hurt, and that is no ones fault except that pricky Liverpool player, your still an important part of the team even if your not out there with them in the dug out."

He looked up at you with red rimmed eyes. "Thank you."

You kissed his forehead. "Anytime, baby, anytime."

“Today is the day,” You nodded, placing a reassuring smile, “— are you feeling okay?”

You knew for a fact that he would be feeling a multitude of emotions today, every time he played in an important game, he always got too caught up in his thoughts and feelings.

“I just can’t seem to shake my nerves,” He let out a deep breath, turning to look at your face with solace as he confessed what was going on in his head. “The pressure is just so overwhelming sometimes, all I can think about is what if I make a mistake? What if I let the team down?”

“Listen to me for a second, sweet boy,” You slid closer to him, wrapping an arm even tighter around his waist, trying to ground him for a moment. “You are talented, dedicated and even stronger than you think you are. You’ve been training for this moment for as long as I can remember.”

You heard him take in a small breath as you continued to speak. “Trust in yourself, believe in your ability just like I do, just like all your fans do.”

His gaze appeared to soften as he took in your words, finding comfort in what you had to say.

“It’s such a significant game,”Your fiancé began to explain, voice small. “— sometimes I can’t help but feel this immense pressure, I want to give my all to the team and our supporters.”

You nodded understandingly and sat up in the bed so that you were the same level, the hotel duvet pooling your waists, his bare torso on display whilst you had on an oversized shirt of his and a pair of his boxer shorts.

You rested your head on his shoulder, not before pressing a kiss to it. “You’ve come so far my love, remember the strength and resilience that you have shown time and time again, no matter the challenges that you have faced, remember that this is your time to shine.”

“Your right,” He spoke, the lines of worry that were etched on his face slowly disappearing as he seemed to acknowledge what you were saying to him. “— I’ve worked so hard to be here, nothings going to be holding me back out here on the pitch.”

A soft sound broke out through the Turkish hotel room, a gentle stirring if you must erupting from the foot of the bed you and your husband were currently resting in.

That indicated that your two year old was awake.

“Mama…dada…” Your little one cried out, voice filled to the brim with innocence and affection upon setting his sights on the two of us.

A smile appeared on your face and Harry’s eyes filled with delight.

“He’s awake.” You murmured as you stood up from the bed and made your way towards the crib that your son was standing up in.

Hunter Robin Styles.

Born four weeks after the 2021 champions league final, the perfect addition to your lives.

He was his father’s replica, brown curls settled onto his head, green eyes that resembled the colour of emeralds and dimples indented in his cheeks.

As you scooped him up into your arms, he rested his head against your shoulder, thumb instinctively entering his mouth.

The two of you returned back to bed to join your husband, Hunter scurrying over to his father like the total daddies boy he is and you moved closer to cuddle into Harry, wanting to feel his warmth once again.

The conversation shifted now that your son was on the bed, weaving in and out of words exchanged between the two of you and the laughter of little Hunter. It was a symphony of love, a reminder of the family that anchored your husband's heart amidst the chaos of the final. As a family, you spoke of dreams and hopes, fears and aspirations, all while your little one basked in the warmth of Harry’s embrace.

The conversation once again drifted, this time the past made its way into our thoughts as Harry’s voice began to tremble ever so slightly as he spoke.

“I couldn’t play last time due to my injury,” He spoke in a voice so soft that you almost didn’t hear it. “— it’s been haunting me since forever, but now this opportunity is presented to me again, I’m going to make every second count, there’s no doubt about it.”

“You’ve already won battles no one ever thought you could overcome.” You squeezed his hand reassuringly, reminding him of his bravery and resilience, as Hunter played with the cross necklace dangling around his neck. “— you need to remember that your worth is not defined by an injury, your an incredible footballer and I’m not just saying that because I’m entitled to, me and Lijah love you, we’re insanely proud of you, we always will be.”

Little Hunter looked between the two of you with sparkling eyes filled with admiration, and that when was Harry realised the he had a family that loved him unconditionally.

The hotel restaurant emanated an atmosphere you could only describe as tranquil as you sat at a table eating lunch with Hunter, Anne and Gemma.

Other family members from the team were also in the restaurant, when you were entering you had waved to Jack Grealish’s mum and dad, had a small conversation with Erling Haaland girlfriend and ruffled Phil Foden’s son's hair.

Little Hunter sat comfortable in his stroller after he refused to sit in a high chair, he was staring at his surroundings with curiosity filled eyes.

As your eyes glanced down at the menu, the three of us women engaged in a delightful conversation, halfway through, you spotted your son reaching towards the table where the basket of bread was located.

“Are you getting hungry, sweet boy?” You asked, leaning forward in your seat slightly so that you could meet his gaze. “— our food is going to be here soon, don’t worry, angel baby.”

Hunter’s face scrunched up slightly and he threw his head back with a small whine, his toddler babble mixed with his gestures, making it clear that he wanted to be part of the dining experience.

Harry’s sister, Gemma, chuckled, her eyes showing clear signs of amusement. “He seems to be quite the food enthusiast, takes after H.”

“Oh one hundred percent,” Anne, Harry’s mother, agreed, letting out a small chuckle. “He’s certainly inherited his fathers love for good food.”

Understanding your son's eagerness to join the table, you unfastened the stroller straps and carefully lifted him out. He squirmed with excitement, his chubby legs kicking in anticipation as he settled into a high chair beside you.

"Now you can see all the delicious dishes, just like us!" You exclaimed, placing a colourful bib around your son's neck. "You're officially part of the lunchtime feast."

Our son's face lit up with glee, his wide eyes scanning the table, eagerly awaiting the culinary delights. He pointed at the plates, naming the different foods as best he could, his baby gibberish filling the air.

As your meals arrived, a symphony of mouth watering aromas filled the air, and your taste buds tingled with anticipation. The three of you savoured each bite, sharing anecdotes and laughter, while Hunter observed intently, his eyes fixed on the delectable dishes.

"I think he wants to try everything," Anne said, chuckling as she noticed her grandson's animated gestures.

Gemma reached over and playfully offered a spoonful of mashed potatoes to her nephew.

"Here you go, little food critic," she said, grinning. "Tell us what you think."

Hunter’s eyes widened, and he eagerly accepted the spoon, tasting the creamy potatoes. His face lit up with delight, and he clapped his hands, a clear sign of his approval.

"He definitely has his father's discerning palate," You mused, exchanging knowing glances with the two women you called family.

As you continued your feast, your son became an active participant in the lunchtime conversation. His babbling intermingled with your dialogue, adding an innocent charm to the atmosphere.

Gemma once again leaned closer to your son, her voice filled with affection. "Tell us, little one, what do you think of this restaurant? Is it worthy of a future family gathering?"

Hunter responded with an enthusiastic nod, his face beaming with joy. His tiny hands clapped, as if applauding the notion of future family celebrations in this very place.

“So how’s Harry feeling about the final tonight?” Anne asked, regarding her son as she leaned forward ever so slightly.

A small smile tugged on the corners of your lips as you contemplated her question and thought about an answer. “— he’s definitely feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement.”

“He’s been training diligently for this moment his whole life,” Gemma added, a touch of pride evident in the way she spoke about her younger brother. “It’s such a significant match for him, for the whole team even.”

“He’s eager to get on the pitch and give it his all,” You nodded in agreement, your heart swelling with admiration. “But the weight of the final definitely comes with its fair share of pressure.”

“Tell him that we’re going to be in the crowd and supporting him.” Anne told you.

You knew for a fact when you had a chance to tell this to Harry he would feel a lot better then he would be, knowing his mother and sister were backing him was all he really wanted.

“Of course,” A warm smile spread across your face, you were touched by her words. “I'll definitely tell him his biggest fans are rooting for him.”

Leaning down to look at your son who was sitting in his high chair with mashed up avocado lingering on his hands, you spoke to him, wanting to involve him in the conversation. “—Daddy has a very important football match tonight, he’s going to make us all proud, isn't he?”

Elijah’s face lit up with a radiant smile, his tiny hands clapping together in excitement.

"Daddy!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with adoration for the father he idolised.

Anne chuckled warmly, her eyes gleaming with affection. "He knows, doesn't he? Even at his young age, he understands the significance."

You nodded, a sense of pride swelling within your chest. "Children have an incredible intuition, They can sense the love and anticipation that surrounds them."

As the early evening settled in Turkey, you led Hunter to the en-suite bathroom located in your hotel room, his hand holding onto yours as he held his light blue baby blanket in his hand.

His blanket was a present that Anne had knitted him when he was first born and he still to this day went everywhere with it.

Bath time was definitely one of Hunter’s favourite times of the day. He liked it even more when Harry would be the one bathing him, but he was often at training so he never really got the chance to.

The bath was already filled up, bubbles resting on the top of it and a few rubber duckies and other bath toys floating in the water.

"Are you ready for a fun bath, angel baby?" You asked, lifting him into the tub filled with warm, bubbly water. "We need to get all squeaky clean before the game!"

Your son giggled, splashing the water with delight, his tiny hands reaching out for his favourite bath toys. As you gently washed him, the two of you engaged in playful banter, his infectious laughter filling the room.

His laugh sounded so much like his fathers.

“Mama,” Hunter gained your attention. “— quack, quack!”

You nodded in encouragement as he presented you with the rubber duck he was holding. “Yeah a ducky does go quack quack, you're such a clever little boy.”

About thirty seconds later, the two year old seemed to get bored of the duck he was playing with and threw it back down in the water, and that was when you got the perfect opportunity to put some bath wash on a sponge and clean over his petite body.

Hunter squirmed a little bit and tried to wiggle away from you but you were quicker and knew his movements like the back of your hand and held him softly in place.

Once he was out of the bath and dried off, you decided to take him into the main area of the hotel room where you grabbed a miniature sized jersey out of his suitcase.

“Alright, arms up, angel baby.” You held the shirt in your hands and slipped the shirt over his head smoothly.

Once the shirt was situated on his body, you smoothed down his brown curls that had become slightly dishevelled due to the friction of the shirt.

He was clad in a Manchester City shirt with the shirts, socks and toddler football boots.

Instead of having his name on the back, he had ‘𝙳𝙰𝙳𝙳𝚈’ and number ‘𝟷𝟽’ on the back of it.

Once you had gotten Hunter ready, you decided to take a shower yourself, the two year old followed you into the bathroom.

As the warm water cascaded over your body, you took a moment to relax, the sound of rushing water creating a serene backdrop. Your son, perched on the bathroom floor, watched with curiosity as you applied a gentle face cleanser and let the steam envelop you.

With the shower complete, you stepped out onto the bath mat, a towel wrapped around your body. Your son clapped his hands in approval, appreciating the simplicity of the post-shower routine.

"Now it's time for mommy to get ready," You explained, brushing your damp hair and reaching for your makeup bag. "We want to look our best when we cheer for Daddy!"

Hunter observed attentively, his big eyes studying your every move.

"What's that, Mommy?" he asked, pointing to the makeup brushes.

You chuckled softly, giving him a gentle explanation.

"This is called makeup, sweetheart. It helps enhance our natural beauty," You replied, dabbing a bit of foundation onto your skin.

As you continued applying makeup, your son's curiosity grew. He mimicked your actions, using his fingers to pretend to apply his own makeup, a charming sight that filled your heart with warmth.

After finishing your makeup, you turned to your suitcase, selecting a Manchester City shirt of your own with ‘𝚂𝚃𝚈𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝟷𝟽’ on the back of its.

Tour son toddled over, his eyes bright with anticipation.

"We’re matching, Mommy!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with innocence and adoration.

You scooped him up into your arms, holding him close.

"Thank you, my love. Now we're both ready to cheer for Daddy," you replied, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

As you sat in the stands of the Atatürk Olympic Stadium, surrounded by fellow Manchester City supporters and in a box with the family members for the team members, your heart was pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves.

Harry was about to showcase his skills on the grand stage.

Beside you were his mother, Anne, and his sister, Gemma, both filled with anticipation and pride.

Your two-year-old son was perched on your lap, his wide eyes filled with wonder as he took in the electric atmosphere. The noise from the roaring crowd seemed to mesmerise him, but as the game kicked off, it wasn't long before the excitement overwhelmed his little body. Hunter's eyelids grew heavy, and he soon succumbed to the exhaustion of the day, drifting into a peaceful slumber.

"He's out like a light," Anne chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "It's quite a spectacle, isn't it? I can hardly believe our Harry is here, playing in the final."

Gemma nodded, her eyes shining with pride. "He's worked so hard for this moment. It's incredible to see him on this stage. I'm so proud of him."

The match unfolded with breathtaking speed and intensity.

Manchester City displayed their trademark attacking prowess, weaving intricate passes and creating scoring opportunities. The crowd's excitement was infectious, and the chants of "City! City!" reverberated throughout the stadium.

Anne leaned closer, her voice filled with excitement. "Do you remember when Daniel used to kick a ball around in the backyard? He always dreamed of playing on a big stage like this. And now, here he is!"

That was true, when you first met Harry, he used to invite you to the park all the time and you would always be kicking a ball about with him, now he got to teach his son the same things he taught you.

A roar erupted from the crowd as Manchester City came close to scoring.

Gemma jumped to her feet, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "Come on! Score that goal!"

As the game progressed, the tension mounted. The opposing team proved to be a formidable adversary, putting up a strong defence and launching swift counterattacks.

The match seemed like a true battle of titans, with both teams leaving everything on the field.

"He's playing brilliantly, isn't he?" You whispered to Anne, nodding toward your fiancé , who was skillfully manoeuvring through defenders.

Anne beamed, her eyes shimmering with pride. "He's always had that talent, that special something. It's as if he was born to play football. Look at him out there, giving it his all."

Suddenly, the referee blew the whistle for halftime. As the players retreated to the dressing room, you gently shifted Hunter's weight on your lap, careful not to wake him.

The buzz of excitement filled the air as we joined the other Manchester City family members near the tunnel, eager to offer our support and encouragement.

You watched as the man you loved emerged, sweat dripping down his face, but a determined glint in his eyes.

He approached were the four of you were standing, pressing a short kiss to your lips and mustering how much he loved you, you and him exchanged brief words of encouragement, his gratitude shining through.

He kissed Hunter's forehead gently, whispering, "Daddy's going to bring that trophy home for you, little man."

Back in your seats, the second half kicked off with renewed intensity.

The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as Manchester City pushed forward, relentlessly seeking that winning goal. The opposition fought back, with bone-crunching tackles and acrobatic saves from their goalkeeper.

With each near-miss and near-goal, your emotions soared and plummeted. You all held your breath with every shot, every corner, and every daring run. The tension was palpable, but you remained hopeful.

Suddenly, a collective gasp swept through the crowd as Manchester City was awarded a penalty.

Gemma grabbed your arm, her voice trembling with excitement. "This is it! H, can do this!"

There was no doubt within the squad that your Harry was the designated penalty taker for the team, he was a forward and The Manchester City manager Pep Guardiola had given Harry the responsibility for them.

This was his moment.

This was his time to shine.

The stadium fell into a hushed silence as Harry stepped up to take the penalty. His focus was unwavering as he placed the ball on the spot, the weight of the entire season resting on his shoulders. The opposing goalkeeper eyed him intently, trying to psych him out.

"Come on, Haz! You've got this!" You whispered, your voice filled with hope.

Gemma and Anne joined in, their voices merging with your own. "You've trained for this moment, Harry ! Show them what you're made of!"

You watched with bated breath as Harry took a deep breath, blocking out the noise around him.

He began his run-up, his strides purposeful and determined. The moment his foot made contact with the ball, it soared towards the goal, driven by the sheer force of his will.

Time seemed to slow down as you watched the ball sail through the air, evading the outstretched hands of the goalkeeper. The net rippled as the ball found its rightful place, and the stadium erupted into a chorus of cheers, applause, and chants of victory.

"He did it! He scored!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with elation. Hunter stirred in my arms, his eyes fluttering open as if sensing the surge of joy around him.

Anne wiped away tears of joy, her voice trembling with pride. "That's our boy! He's done it!"

Gemma wrapped her arms around you in a tight embrace, joining in the celebration. "I knew he had it in him. What a moment!"

Manchester City we’re one nil up.

Not only that, but your Harry had scored.

He had scored in a final.

After all the heartbreak that he endured in the last final back in 2021, he had scored and put his team one point ahead.

You were beyond proud of him.

As the game continued, Manchester City pressed on with newfound confidence. The energy of Harry’s goal had ignited the team, fueling their determination to secure the trophy.

They fought fiercely, defending against the opposing team's attacks and launching their own relentless assault.

With every minute that ticked by, your anticipation grew. The final whistle drew nearer, and the realisation that victory was within reach became palpable.

The stadium buzzed with excitement, as if the crowd could taste the impending triumph.

And then, as the final whistle pierced the air, the crowd erupted into a deafening roar. Manchester City had emerged as the victors of the Champions League final. Ecstasy washed over you as you witnessed Harry and his teammates embrace, their joy overflowing.

Hunter clapped his tiny hands, mirroring the celebration around him.

“Yay, Daddy!" he squealed, his eyes filled with innocent delight.

The three of you joined Hunter's applause, your voices joining the chorus of cheers reverberating throughout the stadium.

Tears of joy streamed down your faces as you reveled in this extraordinary moment, a memory etched in our hearts forever.

You Harry had won the Champions League for his team.

With tears of elation streaming down your face, the three of you including little Hunter joined the chorus of chants, shouting, "City! City!"

Your eyes never left the pitch once as you anxiously waited for the moment when your lover and his teammates would lift the trophy high above their heads.

You all watched as the opposing team collected there runners up medals before it was time for the winners.

On the field, the players formed a jubilant huddle, their faces beaming with triumph. Moments later, they made their way towards the presentation stage.

You and the family quickly descended the stairs, Hunter clinging onto your hip with his thumb in his mouth, eager to get as close as possible to the historic moment that was about to unfold.

The crowd surged forward, a sea of blue and white, as you found a spot near the front. Beside you, other family members and friends of the Manchester City players beamed with anticipation, their voices filled with excitement.

Anne squeezed my hand tightly. "This is it, dear. We're about to witness something incredible."

Gemma nodded with a wide grin. "I can't believe it's happening! Our brother, lifting the Champions League trophy!"

The roar of the crowd grew deafening as the players ascended the stage one by one.

Finally, Harry stepped forward, his face radiant with a mixture of pride and disbelief. The trophy glistened in the spotlight, a symbol of their hard-fought victory.

A hush fell over the stadium as the captain of Manchester City, wearing the armband proudly, lifted the trophy high into the air.

A surge of emotions coursed through your body, and you let out a cheer that blended with the cheers of thousands of fans around.

Anne leaned in, her voice filled with admiration. "Look at him, my boy, holding that trophy. It's a moment I'll cherish forever."

Gemma wiped away tears of joy, her voice filled with pride. "He did it! Haz did it! I couldn't be prouder!"

As the players celebrated, their triumphant shouts and laughter filled the air.

Harry turned towards the direction you were sitting in, his eyes finding yours in the sea of cheering faces.

A smile spread across his face, and you could see the overwhelming happiness in his eyes. With a wave, he acknowledged his family's presence, and your heart swelled with love for this incredible man.

"He did it, Mum! Daniel did it!" You exclaimed, your voice choked with emotion.

Anne pulled you into a tight embrace, tears streaming down her face. "Yes, he did, dear. My son is a champion!"

Gemma joined our embrace, forming a circle of love and pride. "We always believed in him, didn't we? This is just the beginning of his greatness."

Carefully making your way through the jubilant crowd, you reached the edge of the field, where security personnel guided you towards a designated area for family members. Anne and Gemma were already there, their smiles as bright as the stadium lights.

Harry spotted the four of you from a distance, his eyes lighting up with delight.

Covered in sweat and mud, he hurried towards you, a mix of exhaustion and elation on his face. You gently put Hunter down, allowing him to take his first steps on the hallowed ground of the pitch.

"Daddy!" Hunter exclaimed, his little arms outstretched, his voice filled with excitement.

Harry scooped him up, holding him close. "There's my little champion! Daddy did it!"

Anne embraced you, tears of joy streaming down her face. "Look at them, dear. Our son and grandson, basking in this incredible moment."

Gemma joined in the embrace, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'm so proud of him, sis. He's worked so hard for this."

As the celebrations continued around you, Harry held Hunter high in the air, their joyous laughter blending with the cheers of the crowd. The energy of the stadium seemed to infuse their bond, a testament to the incredible journey they had embarked on together.

"He's so proud of you, Harry," you whispered, your voice filled with love and admiration.

Harry nodded, his eyes shimmering with tears of happiness. "I couldn't have done it without you and Hunter by my side. You're my biggest supporters, my inspiration."

Hunter reached out, his tiny fingers brushing against his fathers cheek. "Daddy strong!"

Harry kissed Hunter's forehead, his voice filled with tenderness. "Yes, my little champion, Daddy is strong because of you."

At that moment, time seemed to stand still.

You were surrounded by a sea of jubilant supporters, but it felt as though it was just the five of you, locked in an embrace of love and pride. The Champions League trophy glimmered in the distance, a symbol of their collective victory.

As the team gathered for a celebratory photo, Harry held Hunter on his hip, their smiles mirroring one another.

You captured the moment with your phone, knowing that it would forever be etched in the family's history.

Lying in bed, the weight of the day finally beginning to lift from your tired bodies, your fiancé and you basked in the quiet afterglow of his triumphant victory in the Champions League. The room was dimly lit, and a soft sense of contentment enveloped us.

Harry propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and elation.

"What a game, love," he whispered, his voice filled with a hint of disbelief.

What a game indeed.

You reached out, gently brushing your fingers through his hair. "You were incredible, Harry. I'm so proud of you."

Proud was an understatement.

A small smile graced his lips as he turned to face you in the hotel bed. "I couldn't have done it without you and Hunter. You're my rocks, my biggest supporters."

You shifted closer, resting your head against his chest. "We'll always be here for you, Harry. You worked so hard for this moment."

He sighed, his fingers tracing patterns on your lower back. "You know, love, after the final whistle, I wanted to celebrate with just you and Hunter. It's moments like these that I cherish the most."

So that explains why he decided not to celebrate with his team mates.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with love. "I understand, Harry. It's about those intimate moments, the ones that remind you of what truly matters."

His gaze softened, his voice filled with vulnerability. "That penalty... I was so nervous, love. It felt like everything was riding on that one moment. But when the ball hit the back of the net, it was pure relief and joy."

You placed a gentle kiss on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your lips. "You did it, Harry. You seized the opportunity and made it count. It was a testament to your skill, your determination, and your unwavering belief in yourself."

He wrapped his arms around your body, drawing you closer. "Thank you, love. Your belief in me has always meant the world. You and Hunter are my greatest motivation.”

You snuggled in closer, finding comfort in his embrace. "We'll always be there, Harry. Through the highs and the lows, celebrating every victory and lifting you up in moments of doubt. You're our champion, on and off the pitch."

His voice grew softer as he spoke, his words carrying a sense of gratitude and reflection. "You know, love, throughout the game, when I looked up into the stands, seeing you and Hunter, your faces filled with love and support, it gave me an extra boost. It reminded me why I play this beautiful game, why I give it my all. It's for you and our little boy."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to Harry's heartfelt words. "We'll always be your biggest fans, Harry. Seeing you out there, chasing your dreams, it fills our hearts with pride and joy."

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you so much, my beautiful fiancé . And our little Hunter, he's growing up surrounded by so much love and inspiration."

You nestled deeper into his embrace, feeling a surge of warmth and love envelop the two of you. "We're creating memories, Harry. Memories that Hunter will carry with him throughout his life. He'll look back on this moment, knowing that his dad is a champion, a man who followed his dreams and achieved greatness."

Harry's voice grew soft, his tone filled with a sense of wonder. "I never want to forget this feeling, lying here with you, relishing in our love and celebrating a victory. It's a moment frozen in time, one that I'll cherish forever."

You intertwined your fingers with his, savouring the connection you seemed to share. "We'll always have these moments, Harry.”

You shifted slightly, careful not to disturb the little bundle of joy nestled between you and your lover,. Hunter had fallen asleep during the celebration, his small body curled up against Harry's side.

Such a daddies boy.

Harry's eyes softened as he looked down at your sleeping son. "Look at him, love. Our little champion, exhausted from all the excitement."

You smiled, brushing a lock of hair away from Hunter's forehead. "He's been cheering for you the whole game. I think he used up all his energy celebrating your victory."

Harry chuckled softly, his hand gently stroking Hunter's back. "I'm glad he got to witness this. One day, he'll look back and know that he was here, part of this unforgettable moment."

You nodded, feeling a surge of emotion welling up inside of your chest. "He's so lucky to have you as his role model, Harry. You're showing him what it means to work hard, to chase your dreams, and to never give up."

Harry's gaze met your own, his eyes filled with love and gratitude. "And you, love, you're the anchor that keeps us grounded. Your unwavering support and belief in me, in us, it means everything."

The two of you sat in silence for a while, enveloped in the warmth of your shared love. The room was filled with a sense of peacefulness and fulfillment, a testament to the journey you had traveled together.

As Hunter stirred in his sleep, Harry's voice broke the stillness. "You know, love, scoring that penalty... It was like a release of all the pressure, all the hard work coming to fruition. But what mattered most in that moment was knowing I had my family by my side."

You kissed Hunter's forehead, then leaned over to place a tender kiss on Harry's lips. "We'll always be by your side, Harry, through every triumph and every challenge. You make us proud every single day."

Harry's arms tightened around you and Hunter, pulling you into an embrace that felt like home. "I love you both more than words can express. Thank you for being my everything."

The room filled with a sense of love and gratitude, as the three of you lay there, a family united in celebration, reflection, and profound connection.

In that quiet moment, the two of you knew that this victory was not just Harry's, but your families as well, and together, you would continue to write the pages of your story, one filled with love, resilience, and the shared joy of chasing dreams and achieving greatness, as a family united on and off the pitch.

As you drifted off into a blissful slumber one thought lingered in your brain.

The love of your life was a Champions League Winner.

Your Harry, Your Winner.

[forever-rogue]

hello there! idk if you’re taking requests but if you are i was wondering if you could please write a steve harrington x reader that takes place during his king steve era? the reader is popular and has shallow cheerleaders as friends (she doesn’t like them but wants to fit in) and they make a bet where she has to make king steve fall in love with her. reader agrees bc she wants to please her friends and also bc she heard steve is a douche and wants him to experience the hurt he’s caused other ppl. steve has had a crush on the reader for a while. during the bet, reader begins to learn more about steve and his parents and why he began his king steve persona. he’s more vulnerable with her and she realizes that deep inside he’s a good guy. then steve finds out about the bet during a dance or something and gets really angry and feels used. reader has to find a way to apologize and also dumps her friends in the process. basically lots of angst but with a happy ending of course, thank you!!

AN | Buckle up because this one hurts before it gets better. But there is a happy ending!🥺

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4.5k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Truth or dare?” you hated this. Hated being at this stupid party and hated playing this stupid game and hated these people. But that was a worry for a different day. You put on a big smile and happy face before mulling over your options. Truth was fine enough, but it was boring. Dare would probably just be mild enough to be slightly interesting. You doubted that any of these dimwitted jocks and cheerleaders could think up anything that daring.

“Dare,” you sighed lightly, wanting nothing more than to get this down and over with, “make it good.”

“I dare you to make King Steve fall in love with you.”

“Easy,” you agreed, thinking nothing more of it, “this will be so easy. Next time, make it a real challenge.”

“And then humiliate him in front of everyone when you dump him.”

“Consider it done.”

Little did you know that single dare would lead to both the best and worst moments of your life.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You spotted him at his locker, putting away his books and binders for the day. For once there wasn’t a huge group of people around him, praising him and practically desperate for his attention. You figured you might as well make your move now and get the show on the round. 

You experienced a slight moment of hesitation when you thought about what you were planning on doing to him. It really didn’t make you any better than the cheerleaders and popular kids that were your friends - allegedly. Oh well. For once in his life, he deserved to be pushed down a peg and experience some humility. 

You tightened your ponytail, making sure it was high and bouncy before walking over to him. You made sure to sway your hips just a touch more as you approached him, and luckily, it had your desired effect. Steve’s eyes snapped to you, a small smile tugging up the corners of his mouth as he looked you over, “h-hey.”

“Hi Steve,” say his name sweetly and offer him your best doe eyes. That should do the trick. You even decided to be extra and batted your lashes, wondering if it was doing anything for him or if it just made you look like a bigger fool, “how’s it going?”

“G-good,” he almost choked on the singular word. It wasn’t exactly shocking that you were talking to him, you ran in the same circles after all. But you’d never really gone out of your way to talk to him or get to know him individually, “what’s up?”

“Well,” you rocked back and forth on your heel sweetly, “I was wondering if you wanted to go and see a movie this weekend, maybe get dinner too.”

“Like a date?” he asked, pretty brown eyes lighting up with excitement. Your heart fluttered excitedly for a moment at his response before you nodded.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, “like a date. Whaddaya say, Steve?”

“Yes,” he sounded so excited that for a moment you almost forgot that this was all part of a bigger, grander, scheme, “I’d love to.”

“Cool,” you reached into your backpack and quickly ripped out a piece of paper and grabbed a pen, scribbling down your phone number in pretty pink ink, “call me later, ‘kay?”

“I will,” he took the piece of paper from your hand and held onto it tightly. Just to top things off, you pressed a kiss to his cheek before walking away. Maybe it was over the top, but you really wanted to sell it. You didn’t know why it even mattered to you to do this….was it because you wanted the thrill? Or because you wanted the approval of your fake friends? You weren’t sure yet, but whatever happened wouldn’t be that bad; you were just having a little fun, “s-see you.”

“Bye Stevie,” you waved at him on your way out, a smile on your face until you turned around and let it drop into a frown.

Part one was completed - score a date with Steve Harrington.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next part was going to be the hardest. The act of making Steve fall in love with you.

Your first date went well, and you actually had a good time with him. He picked a good movie, took you to a decent restaurant for dinner and was a complete gentleman. He’d put his arm around your shoulders during the movie, held your hand on the walk to the restaurant, and when he dropped you off at home, he hadn’t even tried to kiss you- you’d taken the initiative and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He called the next day, not bothering to worry about whether or not he should wait. He asked you on another and then another, and then some more. Eventually you shared that first kiss, the one that led to many others, he asked you to be his girlfriend, you had sex for the first time, and eventually settled into what seemed like a happy relationship.

There were times when you almost forgot that this wasn’t real. Well, it might have been real for Steve, but it wasn’t for you. That was something you constantly had to remind yourself of. It was easy to get lost in the fantasy of being his girlfriend; for all that he was, King Steve turned out to be a pretty amazing boyfriend. 

You found yourself standing outside his door, waiting for him to answer while you looked around the yard. His parents were gone again; come to think of it, you’d never met or even seen his parents. Hmm. It was nearing Christmas and most houses had some sort of decoration or lights up. But not the Harringtons’. 

“Hey angel,” Steve had opened the door, interrupting your thoughts and offering you a dazzling smile. You grinned back at him, letting him pull you in for a warm hug, “you look really pretty.”

“Steve,” he felt so warm and smelled so good that it became all consuming. You hung on for just a little bit longer than you normally would have, wanting his comforting touch, “you don’t look so bad yourself.”

You gently put a hand on his face, brushing your thumb over the apple of his cheek before leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. Admittedly, Steve was a great kisser and it was easy to give into him and get lost in him forever. But, deep down, you knew that this wasn’t going to be forever and shouldn’t push it too much. You still planned on dumping him and making it a scene, you should slowly start letting him down. But not tonight, you just couldn’t…

“You’re just in time,” he took your hand, leaving his fingers through yours and led you inside, “I just finished dinner!”

“Wow,” it smelled delicious in the house, which caused your stomach to growl loudly. You grinned sheepishly as he chuckled, leading you into the kitchen, “it all smells delicious, Steve. A-are your parents going to be here?”

“Umm…no,” his face fell slightly and you regretted asking. You reached up and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, “they are, ugh, out of town on business again. They’re not around much.”

“Oh,” you hadn’t known that, but it suddenly made sense why you hadn’t met them. Steve seemed like the type of guy that would introduce you to his parents, given the opportunity. It explained why nothing was decorated for the holidays either, “I’m sorry to hear that, Steve.”

“It’s nothing,” he shrugged it off, but you could see that it bothered him nonetheless. He pulled out a chair for you, “it’s something you get used to. They haven’t been around much since I was a kid. But let’s not talk about that, but something happy. How was your day?”

“Umm,” you really, really, just wanted to pull him into your arms and make the pout on his pretty lips go away. Instead you pulled yourself together and reminded yourself that these were not the types of feelings you should have been having. It was all supposed to be shallow and surface level - the trouble was that you were already far past that, “it was okay. Classes were the same as always - boring - and cheer practice was fine. This is definitely the highlight of my day though, getting to see you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” a smile found its way back onto his pretty face and you relaxed, “can I get you something to drink?”

“Coke please,” you’d noticed that he often seemed to keep some at this place these days. You wondered if he’d always kept some, or if it had been a habit he’d adopted when you’d started dating, “wait - new coke please.”

“Not happening,” you heard him laughing as he pulled a can from the fridge. He cracked it open and poured it into a glass with just the right amount of ice that you liked. Steve brought it over and playfully popped a bendy straw in the glass for you. He paused for a moment to kiss your cheek before pulling away, “new coke is terrible and I will continue to shame you for liking it.”

“Ahh, and here I was, thinking you loved me,” you teased, taking a long sip of your drink. It took a moment for you to realize what you had said, but when you did your eyes went wide as you turned to him, “I-I just meant….it was a joke?”

“I love you,” he replied in the most fond voice ever that caused you to exhale nervously, smiling softly as a pretty pastel pink flush colored his cheeks. Oh no, “I just think that you have terrible taste in soda and I refuse to allow you to make such bad decisions.”

“My hero,” you almost choked on your coke as you tried not to lose your mind at what he had just said. He’d said it so casually, so sweetly, and without hesitation that you knew he wasn’t joking, “thank you, Stevie.”

Part two was complete - Steve Harrington was in love with you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Part three was publicly breaking up with Steve and humbling him in front of everyone.

This turned out to be the hardest part of all. You thought it would have been so easy, but it turned out that Steve Harrington wasn’t what you had expected him to be. When you got down to the root of it all, you came to learn that Steve was a good guy. King Steve was not who he was at all; it was a façade put up to protect himself; no one else had ever done that for him. He’d been torn down and constantly reminded that he was not good enough from an early age by his parents; and then never told otherwise. Deep down he was still just that small boy crying out for love. 

And you found yourself wanting to be the person that gave him that love. Yeah. That definitely was not part of the plan. Which left you in a very confused position. 

By day, your group of friends, if they could even be called as such, asked for updates and wanted to know when you were finally going to dump him. It had been decided that you would do it at the winter formal; most of the students would be attending and it would surely create the spectacle you originally desired. But even the mere idea of it made a pit form in your stomach. 

“I hate cheerleading,” it blurted out of your mouth before you could even think about it. Steve grabbed the remote and paused the movie before turning his attention onto you. The two of you were curled up on his couch, cuddling under a blanket but your mind wouldn’t quiet down, and wouldn’t let you enjoy anything. So…it just sort of came out.

“What?” he asked softly, unsure if he’d heard you correctly. Judging by the upset look on your face he could tell that you weren’t joking, “what do you mean, angel?”

“I���I hate it,” you confessed softly; it felt right to tell him this, it felt right that out of all the people in the world to trust with this, it would be Steve, “I never even wanted to do it…I just sort of got shoved into it. And I never stopped. But I’ve come to understand just how very much I don’t want to do it.”

“Well,” he reached over and gently stroked your cheek, “then you should stop. If it’s not making you happy, you don’t have to do it.”

“I…it’s not that simple,” you shrugged. Years of building up a reputation and it could all so easily disappear. If they knew you, the real you, the one that loved all sorts of nerdy things and was a dork underneath it all, they wouldn’t hesitate to make you a social outcast. You’d basically be the new Eddie Munson, which really didn’t seem so bad at the end of the day, “you know it’s not. Besides, we’re almost done with school. What’s another year or so?”

“You shouldn’t have to just put up with it,” he insisted, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, “you should do what you want, what makes you happy.”

“Steve…” you could have easily told him, you could have confessed it all and gotten it all out in the open. You could have told him that it started as a joke, but then you actually fell in love with him. It couldn’t have easily ended tonight, but as you stared at his pretty brown eyes, you weren’t able to, “you’re right. I-I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” he kissed your forehead before pulling you into lap. It had already become your favorite spot in the world, “I’ll be with you, whatever you choose to do, angel.”

Of course he would. He had a good, kind heart. The man that you thought was just King Steve was anything but; he was amazing, thrust into his little persona around a few people but that wasn’t him. You knew that now; you didn’t end up hating him...if you you ended up falling in love with him. Fuck. 

The last phase of the plan sucked. But you knew you’d have to make a decision soon. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Winter Formal turned out not to be as bad as you’d expected but then again, that was most likely because your date was Steve. He looked so outrageously handsome in his suit, and it felt like it made you fall for him all over again. But as always, he insisted that you were the beautiful one and he definitely looked at you as though you had hung all the stars in the night sky. 

You’d made a decision about him, finally, and just in time. You wanted to stay with him, you wanted Steve, and you wanted to be with him and see where this went. All you had to do now was tell your little squad that the dare was off and while you were at it, that you were quitting cheerleading. You had this whole brilliant plan in your head, positive that nothing could go wrong.

Well, you were wrong on that count.

“I’m gonna run to the restroom, I’ll be right back,” you had to shout in his ear over the crowd of people and loud music. He gave your hand a squeeze to acknowledge that he heard you. You quickly ran off, weaving and winding your way through the crowd of hot, sweaty bodies.

Steve decided that now was a good time to refresh your drinks, and walked over to the table covered with different drinks. He spotted a group of girls that he knew were your friends, or rather faux friends as you had confessed but thought nothing of it. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious, it was only natural. He listened in as he started to ladle punch for the two of you.

“Can you believe she’s actually going to dump him tonight?”

“She’s going to do it in front of everyone! He’ll be so humiliated.”

“King Steve is going to be no more. What a shame, he’s pretty hot.”

“I can’t believe she actually played him for so long! It’s probably gonna break his little heart.”

“Come on - if anyone deserves to be humbled it’s Steve Harrington.”

“The King is dead, long live the Queen!”

Yeah - Steve definitely wasn’t meant to hear any of that. He managed to overfill the red plastic cups and got punch all over the table. His heart was pounding and he could hear the blood rushing in in his ears. He didn’t want to believe what he had heard…but it made sense. You were no better than them - you were just like the people you claimed to hate. 

He abandoned the cups and rushed out of the gym, pushing his way through people without explanation. His whole head was spinning. You happened to be leaving the restroom at the same time and noticed him rushing past you. 

“Steve?” you called after him but he didn’t stop, either not having heard you or he was ignoring you. You took off after him, concerned at what had suddenly changed to cause this, “Steve!”

He finally stopped when he was outside near the parking lot in the cold night air. You held up your hands and looked at him in concern. The first thing you noticed was that there were tears glistening in his eyes. Oh no. That might have been the worst thing you’d ever seen. 

“Stevie-”

“This whole time,” his voice cracked and he sounded so hurt, “this whole it was all just a lie?”

“W-what are you talking about?” your heart was beating so quickly that you were surprised it burst through your ribcage and out of your chest. He shook his head and some of his tears ran down his cheeks.

“Don’t act like you don’t know! I heard your friends talking about me,” he angrily wiped away the tears as your face fell, “you were going to dump me? Humiliate me? For what?! Was this all just a game to you?”

“Steve, let me explain-”

“You’re not even denying it,” he sniffled and you just wanted to wrap him in your arms and make it all better, “I was an idiot this whole time. I let you in, I fell in love with you and now I know that none of it was ever real. It was fake this whole time.”

“Please, just listen for one moment,” you were crying now too, although you didn’t deserve too. This was all your fault.

“You used me,” he shook his head, “for what? Your own sick pleasure. I know this was all some huge joke to you, but this was real to me. Every word I said to you, everything, all of it was real! I thought that maybe for once, someone actually liked me for me, as I am, but I was wrong. I should have known better.”

“It wasn’t a joke,” you stepped closer to him and reached for his hand but he flinched out of your touch, “please, don’t do this, give me a chance to explain…”

“Why?” he asked quietly, “so you can break my heart more? You know, you say you don’t like those girls, that they’re not your friends, but you know what? You’re just fucking like them. You’re no better than they are.” 

“I-I’m not,” you pleaded with him, but he just shook his head, “please - don’t go.”

“I’m done,” he inhaled deeply before exhaling shakily, “I am so done with you. I can’t believe you’d do this…I thought you were different. I thought…I thought you were the one.”

“Steve-”

“Turns out the joke really was me the entire time,” he shook his head before turning around, “you got what you wanted - humiliated and heartbroken. Sorry there was no one around to see.”

You watched him walk away, unable to go after him, rooted to the ground. Everything had just completely fallen apart. You might have just lost the best thing in your life. All because you were a stupid mean girl, just like all the others.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

But you were about to just give up. Not that easily - Steve was worth fighting for.

You left him alone for a few days, but decided that you couldn’t take it anymore. You were going to go and explain everything, and the rest was up to him. At the very least you owed him the honest truth, even if he still hated you.

When you showed up on his doorstep, you were surprised that he opened the door to you. Honestly, he hadn’t even bothered to look through the peephole before opening the door. He was too drained for any of that.

“What are you doing here?” his face was surprisingly neutral for a man you were sure hated you. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to find the right words to convey how you felt about him.

“I came to explain,” you admitted nervously, “I just want you to hear it all straight from me. And if you still hate me at the end of it, that’s okay. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but you deserve the truth.”

He exhaled deeply but ended up giving you a nod and motioning for you to follow him inside. You followed him into the kitchen and you were half tempted to make a joke about wanting a coke. But that was for a different time, “go ahead. Talk.”

“It all started out at this stupid party,” you grimaced even recalling that night, “we were playing truth or dare and truth seemed so boring so I picked dare. They…dared me to ask you out, make you fall for me, and then publicly dump you.”

His face twisted into a grimace as he looked away, “and you just went with it.”

“Honestly? I did at first,” you swallowed thickly, “I was just so tired of them and it seemed like something interesting to do and I realize how completely fucked up that sounds…because it was.”

“Yeah.”

“Then I asked you out and you said yes, and it just felt so…right?” you caught his eye and he raised his eyebrows, “going out with you felt so right. You were so kind, so nice, and I had such a good time with you. And then we kept going out and somewhere, early into it all, it wasn’t fake anymore. It didn’t feel like a joke - it wasn’t a joke.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me sooner?” he asked softly, “it would have been…we could have…I dunno.”

“I wanted to, so many times,” you promised, “but I got scared and couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to break your heart - which seems stupid now because look at what I did. But Steve, I…I got to you know and I started falling for you and it was so easy. You are such a good, kind, loving person. I felt so alive with you, like I could be myself and never had to worry. I realized…that I’d fallen in love with you.”

“But you were-”

“I wasn’t,” you shook your head fervently, “at the dance…I was going to tell them that it was over, that it was stupid and this little dare was done. I wasn’t going to dump you, that was not my intention at all. I was going to go and find them after I used the restroom but…you beat me to it.”

“You weren’t going to?”

“No, Steve,” you sighed as you stared at your feet, “I feel so fucking stupid. The worst thing was that I hurt you. I-I never wanted to hurt you, not since the moment you said yes when I asked you out. I got to know you and…it wasn’t hard to fall for you. You made it so easy, so wonderful and I’ve never felt about anyone else the way I feel about you. I-I meant it when I said I didn’t want to do cheerleading and that I didn’t like any of them. But you were right, I’m not better than them. I should have told you about this stupid dare at the very beginning; I-I should have stopped it. But I didn’t and that was wrong of me and I ended up hurting you. That was the last thing I ever wanted to happen.”

“Do you mean it?” your eyes shifted from the floor and up to his eyes. He was hard to read but, to your surprise, you didn’t see any anger or hate, “did you mean it when you said that you…fell in love with me?”

“Yes,” you whispered, the corners of your mouth tugging up into a small, tentative little smile, “I mean it. Truly - no joke, no dare.”

“Okay,” he nodded lightly, tongue darting out to wet his lips, “I’m not going to pretend that finding out that this started off as a joke didn’t hurt me. But I also know that it took a lot for you to come here and explain everything to me.”

“Well, you deserve the truth,” you whispered, “I’m sorry, Steve. Truly. But thank you for giving me the chance to explain it all.”

A moment of silence fell over the two of you, not uncomfortable but not as easy as it used to be. You cleared your throat before turning to leave, deciding that you’d said your peace and it was time to go. 

But you didn’t make it to the front door; instead you felt his long, slender fingers wrap around your wrist. A small sound of surprise escaped your lips as you turned back, “Steve?”

He pulled you closer, leaving just a small bit of distance between your bodies. You were both breathing rapidly, staring into each other’s eyes, “do you still mean it?”

“Yes,” that was all that he needed to hear before he crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you like he’d never done before. This kiss was filled with emotion, but still so saccharine and soft; you could have stayed like that for hours. When you reluctantly came apart for a breath of air, you were grinning at each other, “Steve…I don’t…why?”

“Because I love you,” he pressed his forehead against yours, “this started out unconventional, but what we have is real. And that’s worth fighting for.”

“Oh Steve,” he could feel you smiling against his lips which made his heart relax, “I love you so much.”

[jessybarnes]

I Can Read Your Mind You Know

Title: I Can Read Your Mind You Know

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI!

Word Count: 1,350

Tags: SMUT, fluff, thigh riding, exploring sexuality, eye fucking, fingering, kissing, Wanda's powers, implied oral sex, implied marking, implied biting, cum tasting, finger sucking, pet names, explicit language, explicit thoughts, explicit sexual content, and I think that's it. 

Written For: @kinktober2022 and @lgbtqbingo

Square(s) Filled: Thigh Riding and Exploring Sexuality

Beta(s): T. Thompson, A. DiLorenza, and J. Landis

A/N: любимая is Russian and translates to Darling. I got this from Google Translate so I hope it’s correct. If you’re familiar with the language and it isn’t, please tell me what it should be so I can change it. I want to make sure what I put is accurate. Thank you :) 

The Avenger’s Compound is quiet today. Just the way you like it. Sure, you love having everyone around too. Sharing laughs and spending quality time with your favorite group of heroes, but some days, like today, you just want some time alone. 

You're sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen island munching on a snack and catching up on some reading. You're so engrossed in your book that you don't see Wanda come around the corner, a surprised look on her face. 

"Oh! Hello, Y/N. I thought I was the only one here."

You look up at her and almost choke on your food. In lieu of her usual attire, Wanda is sporting tight, black spandex capris and a matching sports bra. Her hair is in a high ponytail and her skin is glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. 

You open your mouth to respond, but your brain has checked out and is too busy focusing on her perfectly round ass, voluptuous thighs, and perky tits. 

"U-Umm…h-h-" 

She tosses her empty water bottle in the recycling bin and grabs a new one from the fridge, "are you alright?" 

You manage to force out a meek 'yes' and watch her as she reaches into one of the cabinets for a PowerBar. She stands on her tiptoes and your eyes can't help but glaze over as you stare directly at her backside. 

Never in your life has a woman made you feel this way. You always considered yourself to be straight. Always an ally for the LGBTQ+ community, but nevertheless, straight. Until you met her.

You think about what it would be like to touch her, to map out her smooth, milky skin. Running your fingers through her soft red hair, marking her neck up with pretty, purple love bites, leaving a trail of kisses down her body until you're between her beautiful, toned thighs. 

You wonder what it would be like to taste her.

You're so caught up in your fantasy that you don't realize that Wanda is now facing you, a knowing smirk on her face. 

"You know I can read your mind, right?" 

This time, you do choke. "I-I-I don't kn-know what you're ta-"

"Oh, I think you do know." She moves into your space and twirls a piece of your hair around her finger. “I know everything that you just conjured up in that pretty little head of yours, любимая.

You stare at her with wide eyes, mouth slightly open as she leans in a little and bites her lip. The hand that isn’t tangled in your hair comes to rest on your knee and your breath hitches. 

“W-Wanda I-”

“You wanted to touch me, right?” She moves even closer, her face now only inches from yours. “You thought about what it would be like to mark me.” You swallow hard as she tilts your head back, her lips just a hair’s breadth from yours.

“You wondered what it would be like to kiss me…”

Your eyes flicker back and forth from hers down to her mouth. “Well, I-”

“Do it… Kiss me, Y/N”

You close the gap and immediately press your mouth to hers. She sighs, parting her lips and you moan desperately. Her grip tightens on your knee and you gently grab her hips. When you finally pull apart both of you are breathing heavily, and the way she’s looking at you makes your panties instantly wet. 

“Wow…” You still haven’t been able to say a complete sentence to her and she giggles. 

“You’re so cute, любимая.” She pulls you to your feet and leads you over to the couch. She sits down and pats her thigh, "come here, Y/N" 

You turn around to sit on her lap, but she stops you. "Not like that, sweetie," she faces you toward her again and you look down at her confused, "sit here." 

She gestures to her thigh and you swallow hard before doing what you're told. The combined fabric from your leggings and the spandex of her capris puts delicious friction on your core. 

Wanda's petite hand finds your hair again while her other one grips your side firmly. She watches you for a moment and admires how lust-drunk you are. It's true she always thought you were very pretty, but she never really had a free moment to see what was going on in that pretty, little head of yours…until now.

"You look so innocent, Y/N. But your mind tells me something different. Do you always think about me like that?" 

She watches you nod, a small whimper escaping past your parted lips.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?" 

You shake your head no and Wanda smiles, "do you want to me to help you feel good, любимая?"

"Please!..."

She starts to move you along her thigh, "keep going, sweetheart. But I want to hear you too, alright? You have such a sweet voice, Y/N" 

"Oh, Wanda…," you whine as you slide back and forth igniting a red-hot flame low in your belly, "oh, it feels s-so good….so good." 

Wanda moans at the sight of you, the hand that was tangled in your hair now rubbing her clit. "Good girl, printsessa. I want to see you cum just like this." 

God, this has to be a dream. 

"Oh, it's not a dream, Y/N. It's very - mmm, fuck - r-real." 

You lean down to kiss her again just to be certain. Wanda sighs and leans into it, her hips are thrusting upwards into her fingers now and the little noises she's making go straight to your soaked cunt. 

It makes you almost feral seeing her like this and you decide to get bold. One of your hands grips her shoulder for leverage while the other goes down her capris and slips between her folds. 

"Y/N! любимая, Fuck!" 

"I wanna fuck you so bad…want you to cum around my fingers…" 

Wanda rolls her eyes back as you delve two of them into her pussy. She's so wet, so fucking tight, and it makes your hips stutter a little. She guides your hips again, dragging your core over her thigh in time with the speed of your hand. 

Her once blue eyes now glow red and tendrils of the same color dance from her fingers and roll over your skin. It's like someone heightened your senses, dialed them up to eleven, and your cries become louder, needier, you're so fucking addicted to how she's making you feel. 

"Don't stop, printsessa…don't you dare stop!" 

You fuck her faster, curling your fingers to search for her sweet spot. Desperately wanting her to feel the same way you do right now. 

"Shit, you're gonna make me cum. Fuck your pretty, soft fingers feel so good. Come on, baby…show me. Be a good girl and cum with me."

You whimper and move your hips faster, chasing your high like it's a lifeline. You feel her walls start to contract and it sends you into a frenzy.  

"Fuck, oh, my god….oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, I-I’m close! Wanda, I'm so close!"

She slams her mouth on yours and that's all it takes for you to fall over the edge into the best orgasm of your life. 

She's still peppering little kisses to your lips as her pussy squeezes your fingers and you clench around nothing feeling her come undone. 

Wanda grabs your wrist and pulls your fingers out, bringing them to her mouth and you stop breathing when she swirls her tongue around them. 

"God, Wanda…"

She stands you up and leads you down the hallway to her room. Once your inside she shuts the door and pushes you gently against the wall, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"But the team…" You stare into her eyes as she cocks her head a little. 

"These walls are soundproof, Y/N." Her lips connect with yours in a chaste kiss and once again you're mesmerized by the way she's looking at you. 

"Besides, I'm not even close to being done with you, printsessa."