#chapter 1 – when we were young | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blkkizzat · 5 months

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❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜

part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' dispensary series

⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (completed)

⋙ product description (summary): you can't stop fucking your drug dealer with the big dick but you can't let your reputation be ruined by actually dating him—he'll just have to deal with it—or is it that he will end up dealing with you? ⋙ side effects (tw): cunnilingus, car sex, backshots, riding, dick sucking, sex for drugs, slut reader, reader being a huge bitch lmfao. slightly black girl coded but no descriptors. this is just p1 tw, p2 will have its own lol. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 3.9k of 22.1k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. had to split it up into two parts because i wanted to post on time for 420. barely made it lol!

Plug!Choso who you walked all the way across campus to meet, nervously waiting in the almost always empty parking garage underground level. You don’t even really smoke weed but sorority elections are coming up soon and if you can be the “cool one” to get everyone lit on 420 (as your last plug recently got busted) you could secure a lot more votes. Sure, you were going to an extreme length to win but the last 4 generations of your family have been president of this chapter at your university. You didn't think your mother would even let you back in the house this summer if you didn’t win. So reluctantly, here you are.

Plug!Choso who when he finally pulls up intimidates you with his looks when he rolls down his window as he’s all dark hair, piercings and tattoos. You want to just do the transaction through the window but he tells you to “get in”. You were a new customer and he had to vet you first to make sure you “weren’t 12.”

Plug!Choso who laughs in your face when you angrily slam the door taking offense and yelling at him if he ‘that regardless of your baby face he was fucking blind if he really thought you looked like a 12 year old.’ You turn up your nose at him but quickly are made to feel like an idiot when he clarifies he meant 12 as in the cops. You blush even harder when he says ‘he’d never mistake anyone with tits like yours for being that young.’

Plug!Choso who you only end up hooking up with because your sorority sisters short changed you. How the hell were you supposed to know an ounce was $250!? You ask if he could let you have a deal at $150 as that's what your old dealer Mahito sold it for before he got busted.

“S’cause his shit was weak, princess. Shouldn’ve even been payin’ that much to be real with you. This is that dank shit and if you want it you gotta pay. I ain’t running a charity.”

You ask if you can pay via venmo, cash app, anything but Choso only takes cash.

Panicking as you did not have $100 extra bucks in cash it’s you who suggests if you could you pay it off in a different way.

Plug!Choso isn’t one to get sexual favors for weed as he had bills to pay and a baby brother to take care of, but your cute prissy ass reminds him so much of girls from his high school. The ones who’d only ever looked at him back then with disdain. Who came from stable families, were spoiled rotten and thought anyone who didn’t live their perfect cookie cutter life was trash. Choso wasn’t a virgin but he’d lived a damn near celibate life for the last few years, he could use a little stress release from a lil’ snobby thing like you.

Plug!Choso who you only agreed to give a handjob to and you unbuckled the belt on his tattered black jeans as he sits back and lights a joint. You roll your eyes and steel your nerves with a breath as you pull down his boxers. However the sight of his freed cock immediately has your inner slut going crazy.

How is it that you can’t fit your pink manicured nails completely around his thick shaft?

Why did his dick have to be so pretty fully erect, red tip throbbing as he pusles in your hand when you tease his frenulum with the pad of your finger?

And just what's gotten into you now? It's shameful how you're rubbing your thighs together just from seeing him throw his head back while biting his lip to keep from whimpering. You have his sculpted hard abs trembling from you flicking over the bent barbell of his prince albert piercing.

The silver reflected even in the dim garage lighting as his thick pre collected in drops on the ball of the piercing before dribbling down your hand. You unconsciously wet your lips. You know you only said a hand job but you wanted a taste—badly.

It isn’t long before you are giving into your cravings and talking him fully into your mouth needing a taste of him and forcibly gagging around his girth curious to see how much his cock could have you choking.

Plug!Choso’s eyes flew open and he almost dropped his joint once he felt the hot n’ slick wetness of your velvety tongue slurping up the pre leaking off his piercing and taking him fully into your throat until he was hitting tonsils.

Yet it’s because you are the massive slut that you are, it’s an even shorter amount of time before you pop him out of your mouth, lift your skirt and slide your panties to the side in order to bounce on him raw in the driver's seat. He makes you cum so hard your squirt splashes to drench his pants and even hits his dashboard and steering wheel. He reluctantly has to lift you off him at the last minute so he doesn’t come inside, further soiling you and his car. Choso doesn’t mind though as seeing you getting that messy for him made him hard all over again— and he pulls you into the backseat for round 2 which consists of you face-down ass-up getting the backshots of your fucking life.

Plug!Choso who you quickly start secretly hooking up with on the regular. Seeing as everyone loves how hard his shit hits they send you more frequently to pick it up. You pretend like it's a minor inconvenience but your stomach clinches in anticipation thinking of his fat cock inside of you. Of course, you aren’t disclosing to your sorority sisters how his dick hits even harder than his than his weed. You shiver just thinking of it carving through your guts ruthlessly every time you fuck.

Plug!Choso who you are now secretly texting ‘cowboy’ and ‘eggplant’ emoji whenever you want your doonies beat down— regardless if you are getting weed from him or not that day. However when you are sent to get weed from him, he isn’t even charging you any longer. He tells you to keep it and get a new full set. You always manage to fuck up your acrylics bad when you are with him. Not your fault he fucks you so good you are desperate in the moment to cling to him, the handles, the dashboard— whatever you could get your hands on to grip to keep from loosing your mind as you always end up fucked absolutely dumb.

Plug!Choso who you end up low-key dating but you are still a huge bitch to him in public. Acting like you don't know who he is when you see him. Tsk, you were just begging for him this morning to meet you in the ‘usual spot’ in the near abandoned campus garage lot so he could fuck you. You treated him like he was dirt beneath your shoe whenever you’d see him even though you’d be crying on his cock beneath him just a few hours prior. Choso thinks it’s disrespectful and annoying as fuck but he just deals with it. It's not like he's caught feelings or anything yet.

Plug!Choso who puts up with your shitty attitude and being your dirty little secret as you are the best— and only pussy— he’s had in a while. Not to mention you are always super sweet to his brother Yuji, who adores you. Choso didn’t intend to ever have you meet him but he ended up having Yuji with him one day. He had to pick him up out of the blue as an emergency near the same time he was supposed to pick you up from the nail salon.

Although you had even got a fresh wax at the salon and were ready to show it off, finding Yuji, all of 7 years old, in the backseat was an immediate buzz kill. Initially expecting Choso to tell you that’s his kid, a pang of guilt ran through you when he explained his little brother who he takes care of got sick at school and needed to be picked up right away. You weren’t answering his calls or texts and he didn’t want to leave you hanging without a ride.

You don’t tell Choso you’ve silenced notifications from him (in case one of your sisters were to see his name popup). Instead, you offer to cook Yuji soup when you learn it's only Choso solely taking care of Yuji. Especially after Choso confesses he was just going to pick up a can of chicken noodle and some crackers from the store.

Heart fluttering at how gentle you are with Yuji in contrast to your usual demanding and bitchy nature, Choso curses at himself that he might be falling in love with you. Although he is well aware his feelings would never be reciprocated by you. Nevertheless, as a ‘thank you’ for dinner, after putting Yuji to bed Choso eats you out for 2-hours straight on the sofa. You end up having to stuff your soggy panties in your mouth to keep your cries in and not wake up Yuji. The way Choso is sloppily munching on your pussy has you cumming deliciously back to back to back on his thick pliable tongue.

Plug!Choso who after you end up fucking more at his house, a mile or so away from campus, rather than his car these days. In fact, it isn’t even all about sex anymore as you spend the majority of your time over there helping Yuji with his homework, baking cookies, playing games and movie nights with the two of them.

Once Yuji would go to bed Choso would bring you to the basement to smoke you out before he fucked you out. It’s during one of these smoke sessions though you learn that Choso actually got a full ride scholarship to go to the same university you do now 5 years ago but one quarter into his first year his parents had both died in a tragic accident. Yuji was only 2 then and the thought of losing the only family he had left to foster care was not an option for Choso. When the time came he stepped up to the plate and didn’t think twice about dropping out.

However fast food jobs and grocery store shifts weren’t cutting it. He’d have to spend nearly all day and night away from Yuji just to keep a roof over his head to afford his late-parent’s mortgage. Dealing, although dangerous, was the best option and being the actual genius Choso was, he was smart about it. More guilt fills you always assumed anyone slanging drugs on the street was a burnout who couldn’t cut the real responsibilities of life. Yet Choso already had way more responsibility than anyone his age should have had.

You had sorely misjudged him.

Plug!Choso who realizes sooner than you do the closer the two of you become the harder it is for you to juggle Sorority life and Choso and Yuji— it’s almost as if you are living a double life. Truthfully you are, in a way as you are always sneaking off. Choso wonders what lies you tell your sorority sisters to be gone most weeknight evenings and weekend mornings. The lies of ‘labs' or ‘volunteer work’ wouldn’t likely cut it much longer. When you’re not around, Choso reasons he should probably cut things off with you before the inevitable fall out happens. But he always reconsiders when Yuji kept consistently inquiring as to where his ‘pretty lady girlfriend is’.

Choso doesn’t have the heart to tell Yuji you aren’t his girlfriend yet.

Plug!Choso who starts inviting you to Yuji’s little league games on weekends once Yuji expresses with abundant enthusiasm he wants you to see him play! The little guy, who is not so little for his age, is actually pretty athletic. Adorably every home run he hits he always makes sure to wave to you and Choso in the stands. Grinning widely Yuji blushes at your praise and cheering for him, which makes you just want to cheer harder. Your high school cheerleading experience finally coming in handy again. You go so often that sometimes other parents mistake the two of you for Yuji’s mom and dad. You always hastily respond “I’m just a family friend!”

A family friend. Not Choso's girlfriend.

Plug!Choso whose jaw clenches whenever this happens— not that you ever notice. What the fuck were you doing if you weren’t dating? Yet Choso knew he couldn’t be completely mad at you as even after 3 months he still hadn’t technically asked you to be his girlfriend. Still that fact angers Choso too as he knows he hasn’t because he fears— no he knows— you wouldn’t say yes. Choso picks you up and drops you off blocks away from campus. You also managed to deflect every suggestion for going out on an actual date night on the town when Yuji is over his friend's Megumi or Nobara houses. Also you sure as shit don’t invite him to the many greek life parties you attend (not that he even wanted to go— I mean he would for you. If you'd ask him). Hell, you don’t even follow him back on IG and he knows better than to like or comment on anything other than your stories which goes straight to your DMs.

Plug!Choso knows you have a reputation to protect and how it would look for the tall n’ scary pierced n' tatted emo drug dealer to be the one by your side. Choso eventually resigns himself to live in the shadows of your life for now. Choso would just have to work harder to pay off the house so he could stop dealing and be someone you’d want to show off (even if deep down he feels he will never be good enough).

However this all comes to a boil a few weeks later the morning of the championship game for Yuji’s little league. As their star player Yuji was so excited to be in his first championship and made you pinky promise you would come.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, kiddo!” You lovingly beamed at him.

But you lied.

You did miss it.

Finals and the sorority election week had come up fast out of nowhere and hit you like a whirlwind. As a result you saw little of Choso and Yuji in the days leading up to it. Yet at the end of the week you emerged victorious, both in keeping up your 3.8 GPA and winning the election for sorority president. You were so ecstatic on both accounts that you partied hard the night before Yuji’s big game.

Coincidentally forgetting about it entirely as the next morning was the Annual Greek Council Brunch event to officially inaugurate all new Greek council members across all sororities and frats. As newly elected president and since your sorority was hosting this year it was your job to throw it. It was a huge event that even parents and chapter alumni attended.

Plug!Choso who smoked 3 cigarettes as he waited for you for nearly 40 minutes before he knew he had to leave soon or he’d miss the start of the game too. Deciding to drive by your sorority as a last ditch effort Choso sees red when he spies you on the lawn giggling and flirting with the campus caterers as you direct them to the back of the house. You looked gorgeous, all dolled up, hair done and make-up flawless. The dress you wear looks expensive, something he might even be able to afford to buy you if he wasn’t making triple mortgage payments each month to cut the interest and pay off his home faster. However, he can't deny the baby blue checkered fabric looks great on you. A fact Choso notices the caterer douchebags didn’t miss either as they fall a few steps behind you to check out your plump ass and rib at each other.

Plug!Choso who knows the reasonable thing to do would be to just drive away and avoid any conflict. Although before his mind registers it his body is already flicking his cigarette butt out of the open car door before slamming it shut as he storms across the lawn of your sorority house. Reaching the back of the house Choso was taken back by how grand everything looked. A sea of pristine white tables adorned with arrays of bouquets, fine china and crystal glasses that sparkled divinely in the morning sun. The event was still in setup mode so more flowers, decorations and adornments were being brought in by the second by workers brushing past Choso like he wasn't even there.

In any other scenario a grand display of refinery such as this would have Choso feeling self-conscious and out of place. He is aware as good as anyone else how sorely his dark looks contrast with the peppy and airy vibes of greek life.

However, all that flees out of his mind as soon as he sees you near the DJ booth—now having the nerve to shamelessly flirt with him too.

“Yo, princess.”

Plug!Choso who seems casual from his tone but the look on his face is anything but. You on the other hand looked as if you had seen a ghost as all the color drains from your face.

“Choso!”

You squeaked out a greeting as your head whips around to see who all was around.

Phew! Thankfully it was mostly staff and the greek members who were helping with setup were still inside.

But what the fuck was Choso even doing here?

You started to get pissed as he knew better than to roll up on you like this and today of all days!?

“Come on, let’s go, we're gonna be late.”

He grabs your arm which you quickly snatch back from him giving him an incredulous look as if he just sprouted two more heads.

“What the fuck Choso, you can’t just barge in here like this! Have you lost your mind?! What are you even doing here?!”

You try to keep your voice hushed as you pull him to the side of the DJ booth trying not to draw attention.

“Nah princess, the question is what the fuck are you doing here?”

Irritation was dripping from Choso’s words who clearly didn’t give a single fuck about how loud he was being or the boundaries you’d set around your school life and it made your blood boil. He knew this was a busy week for you and you wouldn’t be around as much, he couldn’t wait a few more days!?

What right did he have to be here right now?

Let alone be this upset with you?

You roll your eyes as you scoff.

“Well as I am the newly elected president of this sorority it's my job to throw this brunch! I’ve had a really long stressful week and this is a really big event for me. My first event even! I have so much–”

“—Fuck! Are you really this clueless?!”

Choso angrily snaps at you and you are visibly startled into silence as his interruption immediately shuts you up.

He’s towering over you now and you’ve never realized before just how much bigger than you he was. His personality was usually so chill and unassuming that it shrunk his overall presence.

Come to think of it you’ve never even seen him angry before, annoyed sure, but he was clearly mad mad now.

“I– Me– My— Goddamn it, do you really think of no one but yourself?!”

The DJ, who had been overhearing your conversation tries to butt-in to white knight for you but is quickly told off by Choso who tells him ‘walk the fuck on while he still had legs that could walk’. The advice which was expeditiously taken as the DJ quickly left the conversation just as fast as he’d entered it.

“Choso– what the—”

Choso doesn’t let you finish, cutting you off again.

Fed up with this, you and whatever twisted situationship you currently had— he needed to say his piece.

“—I’ve been waiting for you for almost an hour, princess. Does your self absorbed lil’ brain even remember why?”

Your own anger is quickly dissipating into confusion as you cannot fathom what in the hell Choso was even talking about. It takes you a few good moments but your eyes widen once you realize.

Oh shit…

“Umm…Y-Yuji’s big game, isn’t today– is it?”

You meekly asked but you already knew the answer.

“Bingo, princess! You’d promised him you’d be there. Do you know how much he’s been looking forward to this? It’s all he’s been talking about. Do you know how crushed he’s going to be if you aren’t there?!”

Shit! Shit! Shit!

You knew balancing seeing Choso and Yuji with your increasingly demanding school life was starting to get more challenging but you didn’t realize you’d fuck up this badly.

You really didn’t want to disappoint Yuji, who at this point felt like your own little brother that you never had —but you’d be prepping for this sorority presidency nearly your entire life!

Your parents were even coming to this!

Shit, which reminds you Choso cannot be here when they show up.

Plug!Choso who knows he’ll have to speed now when he leaves if he wants to make the first pitch of Yuji’s game and makes one last ditch effort to get you to attend, but of course it fails.

“Choso, I– I can’t. I want to... but you know how important this is to me. My family. They will be here soon too I—”

Choso tunes out the rest of your excuses as your mention of ‘my family’ had cut unintentionally deep.

You’d gotten so close to him and Yuji that you did feel like ‘their family’. But you weren’t and it was the foolish hope that you could one day become that Choso selfishly indulged in.

He could deal with the hurt, he was used to life shitting on him but it wasn’t fair to Yuji.

“There he is! That’s him!”

The pussy ass DJ had gone and gotten back up as a group of frat guys in suits rushed over. The commotion was also drawing a few of your sorority sisters and you curse under your breath as a small crowd forms and all eyes draw to you.

“It’s okay guys, he’s clearly lost and is leaving now, right?”

Your voice is bitchy but your eyes are pleading with Choso.

You're pleading with Choso: Not to ruin the event.

Not to be angry with you.

And not to make this situation any worse than what it was.

“Wait— this guy? He’s that burnout dealer, yeah?”

One of the frat guys chime-in and there's laughter and giggles around.

“Oh my god, it is! He's like so obsessed with her. I always see him creeping around.”

One of your sisters adds with a sneer.

“Not a stalker! Ew!”

Another one adds.

“What does this weirdo even want with you!?”

More of your sisters chime in.

Choso doesn’t care though.

He only cares what you think. What you’re going to say.

Your phone dings and you look at it. Shit. Your parent’s just arrived on campus.

You didn’t want to do it this way but you had to end this now.

It was better this way. That’s what you would console yourself with later at least.

“Look—Choso was it? This is a private event and you need to leave.”

You turn to your sisters to explain further. “I tutor his little brother for my volunteer work and he somehow got the crazy idea that I was going to go to some little baseball game with them or whatever.”

You turn back to Choso.

“Well— as you can clearly see. I can’t go. I’m busy and like I said this is a private event so again, you need to leave, understood?”

You turn away not being able to stomach the look on his face like a coward and make up some excuse about checking on the ice sculpture which should have been already placed on one of the center banquet tables.

You know he’s left from the jeers of ‘bye loser!’ ‘fuck outta here freak!’ echo out from the garden.

This was for the best after all….

….right? PART 2

⋙ ©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

⋙ lol y/n is a huge bih who doesn't deserve our sweet baby. no worries though she is gonna learn her lesson good in part 2 where she finds out shit ain't so sweet lmfao. lmk if you wanna be tagged in comments/reblogs. eta— omg there were so many errors lmfao see this is what happens when i dont re-read my shit 50x before posting lol. i fixed it! sorry to anyone who read it before lol. ⋙ reblog to smoke on choso's joint but comments and likes are appreciated!

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fushitoru · 2 months

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chapter 1: the debutante a bridgerton!au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, heir to a dukedom mr. satoru gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ you begin to get ready for your presentation for your debut this season, and satoru steels himself to find a wife. you don't get the reception you'd wanted from some, and satoru will soon curse himself for letting his tongue loose (6.3k)

a/n tired of keeping this in the vault lol so I’ll just post it even if my perfectionist tendencies are screaming at me. thank you so much to @/sinn-clair for beta reading and lexi (@/ayyy-pee) for helping me brainstorm 💗

next. the aftermath

general masterlist | series masterlist

Dearest reader,

Another season comes as the ton descends to London yet again from the countryside. Young ladies and their mamas flock to the modiste in an effort to fluff their feathers to find a match.

The Itadoris are by far one of the most prolific families in the upper echelons of society. The sight of all the children at once⸺Miss Itadori, Lord Choso Itadori, and Mister Yuji Itadori⸺is enough to catch the attention of mamas and young suitors alike. Miss Itadori, making her debut this season, has much to be desired. The debutante is a meek and demure girl, but with many talents indeed. The oldest, Lord Itadori, has a quiet countenance that has ladies and mamas on their toes, counting the days until he finally joins the marriage market. Mister Yuji Itadori is quite the opposite; his physical prowess on horseback riding has had quite a few ladies swooning after.

Furthermore, the heir to the Duke of Gojo is a most interesting character. Although he has not deigned to find a wife during any season yet, This Author has heard whispers that he will be looking for a bride during this one.

Lady Mei Mei can certainly be expected to be on the prowl, waiting to sink her teeth into the wealthiest….

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

“Seriously?” Choso scrunched his nose in displeasure. “Why would ladies want someone who’s quiet? I use it to convey my displeasure, not to be charming.”

On the other hand, the other brother relaxed on the opposite couch, proud. “I knew I looked good on horseback,” Yuji remarked smugly. “You and my dear sister are clearly jealous of how appealing my muscles look while I’m grabbing the reins.”

“Those ladies clearly hadn’t seen you drop yourself in dung when you were younger. Or the face you make when you are so oddly concentrated. As if you just stepped into a chamber pot.”

Before Yuji could come up with a snide remark to his older brother, the two heard an incessant pacing leading up to the doors of the drawing room they sat in. The door slammed opened to reveal their mother⸺Lady Itadori⸺with a hand to her face in clear distress.

Choso and Yuji exchanged glances before Choso calmly set down the single-page newspaper he was reading. “What is the matter, mother?”

Lady Itadori moaned and sat down on a chair raggedly. “Your sister is the matter. I fear the queen will have reviewed every person in London before your sister leaves her room.”

Before Choso could get a word in, Yuji suddenly stood up. “This is a serious matter, mother. After all, she should be punctual to her debut. I will go fetch her.”

“Wait, Yuji!” Choso and Lady Itadori followed Yuji to the grand staircase of the Itadori manor. Hurriedly, they reached the foot of the stairs to see Yuji tilting his head back to take a deep breath.

“SISTER!” Yuji had his palms up to his face, as if to amplify his already booming scream. “YOU! MUST! MAKE! HASTE!” After the quite of bit noise he'd made, he cleared his throat, looking to the side to see his dumbfounded mother and brother, and shrugged. “Well, someone’s got to the job.”

Then, the brothers and their mother look up to see a peek of white and a “Miss, be careful with the hem!” You, at the top of the staircase, grab the front of your ivory dress, with your maids helping you with the train, as you start stepping down the staircase with an irritated frown. “Must you always be such a nuisance, brother?” Traversing down the stairs until your family members were visible, all you saw were dumbfounded and tense expressions. After enduring hours of painting your face and dealing with your maid Nobara’s fussing over your coiffure, you wished for a more fond reaction. Annoyed, you stomped your way past them to the exit, where the carriage was waiting for you four.

“Dear!” your mother exclaimed, rushing to your side and taking your hand as you reached the door. Her eyes, filled with concern, met yours as she nervously asked, “How are you feeling? I know this is a momentous day for you, but remember, you’ve always excelled in your lessons. It’s only natural that you’ll win the queen’s approval, dear.”

“Yes, Mother, of course,” you sighed. “It is just such a hectic day.”

“But you shall dazzle them.” Choso comes behind you, patting your back gently in his reassuring, elderly brother ways. With a proud smile, he says, “The gentlemen are not prepared for your entrance this season.”

“Indeed! They will be none the wiser to your snark, sister.” You see Yuji coming up on your other side, offering his elbow. You tentatively take it, eyeing him sourly as he continues, “I am simply elated that Mama’s attention will be on you, rather me.”

You reach to smack him on the head, eliciting an "Ow!" from Yuji just as your mother approaches next to him, frowning. "Of course, Yuji. But it won’t be long before I have to chase after you for your tutor’s complaints about your lack of proficiency⸺"

Yuji interjects hastily. "Well! Would you look at the time? The Queen is waiting!"

"I'm surprised the gossip pamphlet didn't mention how much of a rake you are," Lord Geto mused, taking a sip of brandy. At his right, Duke Nanami was stoic as always, focusing on the tastes the gin was bringing to his mouth rather than the two older men beside him.

"I'm severely offended you would even imply such a thing," Mister Satoru Gojo put a hand on his chest, feigning offense. Rather than a gin in his hand, Satoru preferred drinking water lest his mouth spilled something even more notorious than his signature calculative icy blue eyes.

He continued. "Honestly, I don't understand this whole Whistledown business. Some might even say the ton holds her words more in regards than the Holy Bible!"

"You're diverting the matter at hand, Gojo," Nanami took his tired eyes off of his drink to look at Satoru. "As the heir and first son, have your parents not urged you to cease your foolishness? There is a limit to the rakish behavior one can exhibit in your position.”

"Yes," Satoru sighed, "They have. That's precisely why I'm looking for a bride."

There was a silence in which Satoru looked up from his glass to see Kento and Suguru’s mouths agape. "What?"

Suguru leaned closer to Satoru, as if to inspect his countenance unsure if he was jesting or not. "So, is it actually true? You're going to get tied down?"

Nanami wrinkled his nose in disapproval. "Must you say it like that? Marriage isn't imprisonment, you know."

Gojo sighed. "Nanami, Nanami. It's clear that one year that separates us in age has also left a gap in experience." Nanami felt a vein pop as Satoru irritatedly continued in his know-it-all voice. "Marriage is an end. The dead end, in fact. It is when you are abroad in Paris, basking in all the fine entertainment and wooing ladies until you realize you are out of funds. Out of money. Marriage is coming home not to go out and drink, but to a wife that has endless needs of you and children that will have frustrating phases of life. An end to pleasure and an end of all jest."

Kento and Suguru exchanged a glance before Suguru asked, "So why are you looking for a wife?"

Satoru looked dejectedly at them, crossing his arms. "My parents insisted. Said they would freeze my funds and kick me out if I didn't get serious about my future." He continued on his desperate rambling, leaning back in his chair. "I don't understand. Must I have a wife to "get serious" in life? I’m serious about all the fucking mergers and dubious finances my father invests in! Look how well I managed his bets!"

"You know, Satoru, your outlook on marriage is awfully pessimistic," Suguru put down his glass to lean back as well, crossing his arms in seriousness. "Don't you wish for a love match?"

"That sounds ridiculous. Love matches are just a passing fancy young ladies have when reading their ridiculous romance novels."

"Well, of course you think that." Kento deadpanned. "No respectable lady in their right mind would fall for you and your attitude."

"Nanami, you wound me."

Suguru glanced at Satoru with concern. "My dear friend, you are making this harder for yourself than it ought to be."

Satoru groaned. "I came here for jest, not to receive words of so-called wisdom. I assure you both, all is well." He looked at both of his friends. "I do not need to be assured. I simply am looking for a woman fine enough to be my wife to appease my parents and their concerns of continuing on the line and handling the dukedom but for a woman so reserved that she'd respect my wishes and isn't so miserable. Or needy." Satoru shrugged. "I would believe these to be respectable requirements for a wife."

Suguru looked at him with mild displeasure. "It sounds like you are looking for a horse to ride, not a woman you would spend the rest of your life with."

Standing up, Satoru moved behind Kento and Suguru to give them a hearty slap on the back. "Trust me, my dear, dear friends. I will find what I am looking for and drink myself silly for the rest of my life!"

"You don't drink." Kento sighed.

"Never mind, you! Sir, more drinks!" Satoru grinned. "Here's to the bachelor life!"

The three men raised their glasses for the toast. Yet, only one of them contained thin water.

You restlessly arranged the feathers in your coiffure and adjusted the fabric essentially squeezing the breath out of your lungs to accentuate your bust. The palace waiting room was stuffy as ever as debutantes and their mamas fluttered across the room in an effort to catch the smallest of flaws on their person.

Before the Queen did, that is.

"Your feathers are fine, dear. Take deep breaths for me." Your mother raised her hands, prompting you to take a breath in and out as her hands lowered.

You gave her your practiced smile and curtsy to which your mother laid a hand on the small of your back in both approval and reassurance. With the other, she grabbed your own and rubbed comforting circles in the junction of your index finger and your thumb. "You have always excelled in your lessons, my dear. I could not be prouder of the woman you are becoming." She sniffed, and you smiled in appreciation. "The Queen will love you, I am sure of it."

You laughed. "Mama, that is what all these ladies think."

“But none of these ladies have poured in the determination you have, my dear.” Your mother holds your head gently by the cheeks. “Your character and proficiency⸺I am sure the Queen will see the promising young lady that I am proud to call my daughter.”

You felt a lump in your throat. While you appreciated your mother’s words, you could not help but think of the significance of this day. You almost felt dizzy thinking about messing up in front of the Queen; if you didn't find a suitable match as a result, what would become of you?

Suddenly, there was some fanfare from the main room. "Now, presenting Miss Itadori and the Right Honourable Lady Itadori." Your heart jumped out of your throat as you heard the call for you and your mother to walk up.

"Let's go, my dear." With a fond kiss to your temple, your mother led you by the hand to the center of the tall and ornate doors that opened to reveal the Queen and her audience. You couldn't help but notice that your mother's hand held a reassuring, yet tight vice.

When the doors opened, your vision blurred. Your heartbeat got faster, and all you could register was the stares. What felt like a million pairs of eyes blinking upon you, scanning your coiffure, garments, and carefully painted face. While the gossiping widows and mamas whispered amongst themselves, some gentlemen scanned you up and down in clear assessment of your constitution. A distinct smell of tobacco and vanilla wafted through the air, and you took an imperceptible breath in as you steeled yourself before putting your practiced, signature smile.

A memory from your childhood flashed before you.

"She is excelling in her studies," your tutor had said, discussing your performance with your mother in the drawing room. You, sitting beside them, had fidgeted nervously with your small hands clasped in your lap, sitting as straight as you could manage.

"What must she do to improve?" your mother inquired, her eyes sharp with concern.

"Madame," your tutor had said, turning his gaze towards you with a knowing look. "Your daughter is quite nearly flawless. She is of my most exceptional students; her obedience and composure are unparalleled, even at such a tender age." He then fixed his eyes back on your mother with an authoritative intensity. "But there is one element that will truly distinguish her as a diamond."

Your mother had leaned forward, abandoning her tea in anticipation. "What is it?"

"Her smile."

As you flash your smile to the room, you could feel the people in the room going silent. Your smile was what helped you focus and keep your eyes on the prize: impressing the queen. Smiling in the most innocent and demure way you could possibly muster, you straighten your posture as you advance towards the queen, your eyes serene and your expression a masterful display of delicate charm.

The stares of the ton were on your back, but all you focused on was the harmony of your countenance. Chin up, you reminded yourself. Everyone in this room is my prey, and I am the predator.

When you and your mother reached the foot of the Queen's throne, you dipped into the deepest curtsy you had to offer, keeping your eyes on the ground as you minimized your smile to a more polite and respectful one. You stayed there for as long as the Queen was silent.

Then, a rustling of fabric as the room silently gasped. The Queen was stepping towards you, and you felt a gloved hand take your chin. Not daring to breathe or rise from your genuflection by even an inch, you forced your body to stay in position as your face was raised to look at the Queen’s.

Her booming, yet regal, voice echoed throughout the room. “You, my dear. Perfect.” She then addressed the room. “I have found my diamond!”

The declaration sent a wave of murmurs through the gathered crowd. You could feel hundreds of eyes on you as you slowly rose from your curtsy, your heart pounding in your chest. Your eyes instinctively sought your mother’s, who looked at you with pride and a hint of warning.

“Keep smiling, my dear,” she whispers into your ear. “They are staring now, more than ever.”

Your mother was right, upon reflection. There were eyes observing you far more diligently than they had before. In particular, a pair of icy and brilliant blue ones.

“Choso, not today.” Your mother sighed. “I am not ignorant of your overprotective tendencies, especially towards your younger sister and brother.”

Choso was fully frowning in displeasure, arms crossed as he observed your mother, Yuji, and yourself board the carriage. “Mother. Sister is the diamond of the season. The men will be after her like hungry vultures!”

“Well, vultures have a tendency to eat freshly decayed carrion. When you get rid of those dark circles and don’t look like dead meat, you can join us.”

Choso protested further, stopping the doorman from closing the carriage door. “But, Mother⸺”

“Yuji, close the door. Your brother will join us when learns to get sleep and not work on those ledgers overnight.” As per your mother’s instructions, Yuji closes the door on him. As the carriage rolls out of your manor and into the London streets, you blow a mocking kiss to your brother, who is now brewing at the doorstep.

“Phew! Good riddance,” Your mother fanned herself. “I need this night with you, alone. God knows how many suitors will be warded off with that horrid glare of his.”

You laughed softly, leaning back against the plush cushions of the carriage. “I suppose it’s a small price to pay for a bit of peace.”

You and your mother were wrong; your brother should have been there.

Upon your arrival, you were followed by stares, whispers, and men. Bachelors appeared in droves, eager to engage in conversation, each drawn by your newly anointed title as the diamond of the season. After paying your respects to the Queen, you found yourself swept into a whirlwind of attention, each dance and conversation a testament to the allure your status had brought.

As you navigated the crowd with practiced grace, Yuji, ever the observant and cheeky sibling, leaned in close to you and murmured, “I must say, you’ve outdone yourself. They’re practically circling like hawks. Do you think we’ll need to hire a guard just to keep them at bay?”

You gave him a wry smile, barely concealing your exasperation. “Oh, Yuji, you’re so dramatic. They’re just eager to make their introductions.”

Yuji snickered and nodded towards a particularly earnest-looking gentleman who seemed to be making a concerted effort to catch your attention. “Well, if this is what the season looks like, I might have to prepare myself for a front-row seat to a parade of besotted suitors. Just don’t let them all think you’re here to catch them; we wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea.”

Your mother, overhearing Yuji’s jest, gave a light laugh and shook her head. “Oh, Yuji, you and your theatrics. Just make sure you’re ready to fend off any advances that come your way.”

“What?” You’ve never seen Yuji’s smile drop so fast. As if on cue, there were mamas and maidens closer to Yuji’s age that were approaching, as if a pack, and he looked at you in panic. “Are they coming towards us? Sister, you’ve got to⸺”

“Mister Itadori,” It appeared it was too late. A pack of young ladies were right next to you, fluttering their fans and lashes and giggling. “Whistledown has praised you quite well in this last issue.”

Help, Yuji mouthed, but you merely winked in response. The young ladies had effectively formed a barrier around you, offering a temporary reprieve from the throng of eager suitors. Sensing an opportunity, you decided to seize the moment and discreetly made your way towards the punch table.

The cool, refreshing scent of the punch greeted you as you approached, offering a welcome contrast to the bustling, heated atmosphere of the ballroom. You filled a glass with the fruity, aromatic beverage and took a moment to savor the brief solitude.As soon as you took a deep breath in, savoring your newfound freedom, you felt a presence next to you at the punch table. “Miss Itadori.”

Upon turning, you were met with the infallible smirk of Naoya Zen’in. You had indeed heard⸺and read, in Whistledown⸺that his family adopted nontraditional ways of determining the winner of the family inheritance and leadership. While Lord Zen’in wasn’t guaranteed to be the heir, he definitely was one of the top contenders. You assessed him further, taking in his arrogant demeanor as he reached down to give you a kiss on your hand. Rather wet, you thought in disgust.

But you hid it well, fluttering your lashes up at him. “Mister Zen’in! I am flattered to be acquainted with you today. How do you find today’s ball?”

“Rather well, of course.” He reached to scoop some punch for himself. “I enjoy meeting all the young ladies and dancing with them, of course. Ever in search of my perfect bride.”

You forced an artificial giggle. “Of course. I’m sure all the ladies that have talked to you have been charmed, as am I.”

He swelled, exactly you expected, as you stroked his ego. “But none of these ladies are as valuable as you, my diamond.” To your displeasure, he took a step closer to you, discreetly tracing his finger from your upper arm to where your dance card resided. “May I have your next dance? I have been perfecting my dance skill to the point all my brothers are envious of my prowess!” He barked out a laugh. “In fact, I beat them in horse riding years ago, and…”

While Naoya kept talking, you merely fluttered your fan over your face in mock interest. You were really starting to mourn your short-founded freedom, wanting a respite from the self obsessed young man. For some reason, you could smell the same distinctive perfume of expensive tobacco and painfully sweet vanilla you had smelled in your presentation, like a warning. Realizing you were drifting off into space with the heady fragrance, you made sure to tune into his ramblings once more.

For some reason⸺that you were growing to find uncomfortable⸺he still had his hand on your dance card. You felt the previously faint aroma growing stronger by the second. “Of course, I am soon to be the heir of the Zen’in name⸺”

A flamboyant and mischievous laugh cut through the air. “Naoya, you amuse me.” To your alarm, a young man steps to the right of you. From what you can see on the side of his face, his head sports brilliant white hair and his eyes are focused on the bachelor in front of you, who is now displeased and openly glaring at the man beside you.

“Gojo, I⸺”

“Funny that you talk about the Zen’in inheritance, Naoya.” The man⸺Gojo⸺scratched his chin in faux puzzlement while cockily smiling. “Last time I checked, Naobito was discussing handing it over to Megumi over pall-mall!”

Naoya was clearly growing more and more distressed. “Father wouldn’t dare to hand that child with a whore of a mother⸺”

Gojo clicked his tongue, outwardly showing a nonchalant smile, but you could noticeably see his eyes darken. “That’s no way to talk in front of a lady, Naoya, and certainly not of a mother. Besides, Mister Zen’in, didn’t Megumi save your family from the edge of poverty?”

Naoya’s nostrils flared. Clearly at the end of his wit, he did a small bow towards you as he swiftly exited your proximity. You blinked, partially processing the conversation that happened as well as the fact that you were now alone with this Gojo. Turning, you prepared your signature smile, the act you had been presenting for countless of young bachelors today. However, what made you stop in your tracks was his eyes.

Even the pure Englishmen you had met in London didn’t possess eyes like his. They were intense and vividly blue, flashing with judgment and calculation. His face, though strikingly pretty and slightly more feminine than others, seemed carefully constructed to mask his true thoughts. His white lashes contrasted sharply with his hair as he blinked.

And then it hit you. This was the heir of the Gojo dukedom, Satoru Gojo. Known as a capital R Rake for reasons unknown to you (Nobara just insisted he was), you could see elegance and arrogance exuding off of him, yet another noble with an ego as big as his wallet. You recall, then, what Whistledown had wrote about him⸺that he has never shown interest in marriage before today.

It was only after he blinked once more that you realized he was waiting for some response to an introuction you didn't catch. In a panicked flurry, you curtsied and said, “My apologies, Mister Gojo. I fear I haven’t had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. Miss Itadori, pleased to meet you.”

Gojo’s smile widened, his blue eyes twinkling with an almost imperceptible amusement. “A pleasure indeed, Miss Itadori.” He returned your curtsy with an elegant nod, his voice smooth and teasing. “I must say, you handle yourself with admirable grace amidst such a tumultuous crowd, my diamond.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gojo,” you replied, attempting to regain your composure as you took a sip of your punch. “I do try my best to navigate these social minefields.”

He chuckled softly, the sound light and charming. “Indeed. Though it seems you’ve had quite the evening already, judging by your rapid responses to Lord Zen’in’s advances.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to draw a hint of a smile on your lips. “It appears you’ve been observing closely. Are you always so keenly aware of your surroundings, Mister Gojo?”

“Only when I find the scene particularly entertaining,” he said, his gaze shifting to watch the guests around the ballroom. “And tonight, the spectacle is quite extraordinary. I must admit, you are a refreshing change from the usual parade of predictable manners.”

“Predictable?” you asked, your curiosity somewhat piqued. “Do you find most of the guests here lacking in originality?”

“Perhaps not lacking, but certainly not as intriguing,” he replied with a playful grin. “Take, for instance, Mister Zen’in. A man of considerable ambition, no doubt, but with a flair for the dramatic that grows tiresome rather quickly.”

You nodded in agreement. “Yes, he certainly has a penchant for self-promotion. But then, one could argue that every gentleman here has his own brand of theatrics.”

“True,” Gojo said, tilting his head slightly. “But what I find most fascinating is how you’ve managed to stand out amidst this display of pomp and circumstance. It’s not every day one encounters someone who seems so effortlessly poised, even in the face of such overt competition.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mister Gojo,” you said with a light laugh. “But I assure you, my composure is a carefully cultivated skill, not merely a natural state.”

“Ah, then I must commend your efforts,” Gojo said, his eyes gleaming. “It is a rare talent to maintain such grace under pressure. If I may be so bold, might I request the honor of a dance with you this evening? I promise to provide a diversion from the usual pretenses.”

You hesitated for a moment, weighing the potential benefits of engaging further with this intriguing man against the immediate demands of the evening. Finally, you offered him a meek smile. "Of course. I shall be delighted to dance this waltz with you."

Pleased, he guided you to the center of the ballroom, your hand elegantly placed in his. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph as you noticed Lady Mei Mei’s envious glances and the heated stares from other young ladies.

Gojo positioned his hand on your waist as you both assumed the proper stance for the dance. “So, how are you enjoying your night? I trust you’re finding pleasure amidst the horde of suitors the Queen has so graciously provided.”

You smiled demurely, carefully maneuvering around him. “Well, my lord, I am very grateful to the Queen for her blessing this season.” You took a delicate step, noting Gojo’s amused smile. “However, it is quite tiring to meet so many people. Repeating my preferences for the countryside or the city can become rather exhausting.”

Gojo’s smile widened as he guided you through a graceful turn. “And which do you prefer?”

“I would argue that the city is preferable when I feel lonely,” you said, gliding with him. “Yet the countryside is ideal for moments of solitude and reflection. Naturally, it also serves as a lovely setting for fond memories with a future husband.”

“What do you enjoy doing in nature?”.

“Embroidering or practicing the pianoforte,” you replied, making sure to display a wistful smile. “There is something particularly enchanting about playing the piano with the door open, letting nature's melody blend with the music.”

“Do you have any other talents or skills?” Gojo inquired as you both continued your dance.

“Yes,” you said, “I am fond of reading and immersing myself in literature. I also have a passion for the arts and languages.”

“Which languages do you speak?” he asked, guiding you through a series of intricate steps.

“I am well-versed in the classics⸺Latin and Greek. I’ve also picked up some French and Spanish, when I was yearning to follow my older brother through Europe for years.”

“What about literature? What do you enjoy reading?” Gojo pressed, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your smile grew slightly strained as you felt the conversation veer towards an uncomfortable territory. You felt as if the duke was interviewing you for review of your admission into an academic institution rather than holding conversation. “I enjoy Byron, sir,” you said carefully.

Gojo hummed in approval. “And here I was, thinking all ladies were engrossed in Whistledown.”

“Ah, well,” you feigned a sigh, your smile tight. “Gossip has its charm for a lady, sometimes.”

“For men, too, I must admit,” Gojo said, tilting his head towards his group of friends. “But I must confess, it is rather unpleasant when the gossip circulates that I am a rake.”

That's because they're true, you whore. "I guess it's up to the smarter individuals in society to discern the truth from the slander."

Gojo’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he guided you through the final steps of the dance. “Indeed, it seems wisdom and discernment are valuable traits in navigating the labyrinth of society’s gossip.”

You nodded. “Quite so. It is the discerning few who see beyond the surface and recognize the true character of a person.”

As the music swelled to its concluding notes, Gojo drew you closer, his gaze fixed on you with a calculative expression. “And what is it that you seek to convey through your own character, Miss Itadori? In a world full of pretense, what do you wish to be known for?”

You maintained your practiced smile. "Mister Gojo, in a world where appearances often speak louder than words, I find it best to embody grace and humility. I hope to be seen as a gentle and devoted companion, one who supports and uplifts those around her.”

Gojo’s smile only sharpened, and you couldn’t help but shake the feeling of somehow being calculated, observed, even hunted as he offered, “A noble aspiration. It is refreshing to encounter someone who values authenticity amidst the artifice.”

As the final strains of the waltz came to an end, Gojo escorted you back to your starting position. He bowed deeply, his eyes never leaving yours. “Thank you for the dance, Miss Itadori. It has been an evening of unexpected delights.”

You curtsied in return, your eyes meeting his with a demure and sincere expression. “The pleasure was mine, my lord. I am honored to have had this opportunity.”

With a final, charming smile, Gojo stepped back, giving you a nod. “Until we meet again, Miss Itadori. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

After Gojo had taken his leave, you found yourself once again surrounded by a steady stream of suitors eager to engage you in conversation. You indulged a few with polite discourse, your smile unwavering as you navigated the well-trodden paths of societal pleasantries. Despite your best efforts, fatigue began to set in, and you soon reached your limit.

Deciding to take a brief respite, you excused yourself with practiced grace. You made your way discreetly to the veranda, seeking solace and a breath of fresh air away from the relentless din of the ballroom. As you stepped out into the cool night air, the sound of the revelry faded to a distant murmur, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the faint scent of blooming flowers.

With your mind fresh and clear from the suffocating revelry, you couldn't help but reflect back on the night. With the Queen deeming you as the diamond of the season, you knew your mother and Choso had been appeased. Of course, tomorrow was going to be a long morning; judging by the sheer number of young men approaching you today, you knew many of them would be visiting your drawing room to converse with you and gain the approval of your brother.

There were some suitors that stood out. Lord Ino seemed to take genuine interest in what you had to say, but Mister Fushiguro had both interest and quiet respect that you couldn't help but think was ideal for a marriage. After all, you just wanted a peaceful life after securing yourself and your family. While brief, you had conversed a bit with both Duke Nanami and Lord Geto, but it had been interrupted by some of their friends inviting them onto the terrace. You were sure Naoya wouldn't bother showing his face tomorrow.

That left him. Blue eyes. You couldn't help but think you had heard about him somewhere.

Gojo.

Even though you couldn't recall much other than his rakish tendencies, the future title of Duke was certainly attractive and respectable. He wasn't so bad; with dashing looks, you couldn't help but simply think that a pretty face wouldn't be bad to look at for all those years. You snickered to yourself at your sheer display of vanity in your thoughts.

If you had to think of the most vain reasons to justify your suitors, Mister Gojo would definitely top your list of the most handsome of men. With a sturdy and healthy build, you could notice the years of dedication he must put in to maintain his athleticism. Perhaps archery, you thought. Those shoulders were definitely wide for days. Or maybe horse riding. He definitely seemed to fill in his pants with his thighs.

However, it was impossible to ignore his mischievous nature. You couldn't imagine a man such as the future Duke showing any outward display of affection, and all your interactions⸺from him outwitting Naoya, to interviewing you under the pretense of dancing⸺have always had him either besting or calculating the other converser. He definitely had a superiority complex, you rolled your eyes. Clearly, your display of the simple and stupid maiden pleased him. You wondered if he treated all the other ladies with the same level of disrespect and evaluation.

Deciding you were too far into the gardens, you turned the opposite direction to join the revelry once more in fear of attracting strange rumors about your presence in the gardens late at night. As soon as you got closer and closer to the ballroom, you heard voices.

"Ah, but there is the diamond, of course."

You perked up, interested in knowing who was talking about you. The voices seemed to be coming from the entrance between the terrace and the ballroom. "Of course, I understand why the Queen has deemed her so." Crouching, you aimed to discreetly hide behind a large trimmed bush in such a manner that if someone were to be passing by, you wouldn’t appear suspicious.

Another voice chimed in. “She is beautiful. Not in the salacious way Lady Mei Mei is, but in a more authentic and innocent way.”

“I fear the ladies nowadays are salacious⸺hungry for suitors with money and power⸺so it only makes sense that the ladies appear that way. But the diamond; she is different.”

A slap, as if someone was affectionately patted on the back for attention. “Yes, yes. But let the man of the night give us his assessment. After all, he is the one who is here tonight with us, finding a wife, when no one who had ever talked to him would ever think he would be doing such a thing.”

“Well, of course. It wouldn’t take a fool to know that marriage is basically imprisonment.” You could discern the speaker’s wry tone. “The goal here is to appease my parents, and my ticket to that is the diamond.”

“Well, get on with it,” a voice pressed, rather impatiently. “What’s your assessment?”

“A bit simpleminded.” Some feeling struck your lungs, as you recognized that it was Gojo’s voice that was speaking. You swallowed, your heart pounding as you waited for more harsh words to torrent upon you. “Has no opinions of substance that should cause conflict. She’s perfectly fine for a wife. I shall begin courting her and will soon propose⸺"

You didn’t hear the rest because you soon found yourself dashing in the opposite direction, towards an alternate entrance to the ballroom. You couldn’t bear to hear any of the more degrading and embarrassing things Gojo had to say about you as you slowed your pace to a fast walk.

With the main entrance to the ballroom in sight, you thought about the other gentlemen⸺if you could even call them that⸺that must be present, conversing with Gojo. How widespread are these assessments of you? Do all gentlemen think you stupid? However, your thoughts are interrupted when you bump into someone, rather hard.

“Are you alright?”

You look up, putting a hand to your bosom as you try to catch your breath. You see Duke Nanami’s face in close proximity, as he furrows his brow in light worry. You’re clutching your forearms as you are heaving, trying to get oriented. “Yes,” you heave. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Nanami clearly didn’t accept your assurance as he helped you stand to your full height. “Is there anything wrong?”

“No, no, I assure you; I am quite alri⸺”

“Sister! There you are!” Yuji comes up from behind Nanami, and both of you turn to look at him. “I’ve been looking for you! The punch here is terrible, some of the mamas here are horribly intoxicated. Do you know Mei Mei’s mother just admit⸺” he cuts himself off as he observes Nanami, who’s still touching your arms, with wide eyes. “Di⸺Did I interrupt something?”

“NO, you didn’t.” You burst out, not wanting yet another man leaving with an unfavorable expression of you tonight. You and Nanami both take a step back to distance yourselves, and he clears his throat.

“Good night, Miss Itadori. Mister Itadori.” He gives you both curt bows as he makes his way past to his carriage.

Yuji blinks. “Oookay. Anyways. Mei Mei’s mother just barfed on top of Naoya as she was buttering him up. I must admit, Mei Mei and Naoya make a formidable match in being intolera⸺”

You could feel yourself filtering Yuji out as you thought about the gentlemen’s gossip from earlier. While you weren’t exactly surprised that Gojo appraised you as a pawn, you couldn’t help but be a little offended that he could talk behind your back. Who’s to predict the other naive ladies that would be subject to his callous and calculative behavior?

There was only one conclusion to be drawn that you swear to remember for the rest of the season: Gojo was not a man of honor, and you were not going to be one of his victims.

next. the aftermath

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scarlet-star-witch · 3 months

Text

The moon and his sun (Part II)

Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 8.2 K

Warnings: Aegon takes minors to a brothel (but nothing sexual happens), characters get aged up, male masturbation, mutual pining, smut

AN: I am so blown away by the love you all showed for the first chapter, thank you all so much! Hope you enjoy xx

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Her cheeks hurt from smiling so wide.

Aemond had been twirling her around the room practically the entire night. She knew he didn’t particularly enjoy dancing, but when she had asked him, he loathed to deny her.

“Are you having a good name day?”

“It’s my best one yet.” He smiled. He had woken that morning to her barging into his chambers, demanding her gift be the first one he received that day. Nothing could ruin such an incredible start to the day.

He raised her hand over their heads and twirled her under his arm again, his own grin beaming at the sound of her delighted laughter.

She tilted her head back as she spun and Aemond was struck by how happy she looked. She was happy with him, she was carefree with him.

Despite how his feet began to hurt, or that he knew many pairs of eyes were staring at him, the desire to let go and sit back down was nowhere to be found. He wanted to stay with her. He wanted to continue to make her smile all night long

As she twirled again, her eyes found the head table, smiling to Helaena who was watching the dancers wistfully while her betrothed sat next to her downing another cup of wine.

She flinched suddenly as she met the hard stare of the Hand of the King. Otto Hightower’s stare was enough to make her feel as though she was burning under such a disdainful look.

Her shoulders tensed slightly before she found herself being spun again, back into Aemond’s arms. His smile faltered when he noticed her own smile dimmed.

“Are you alright?”

She forced a mask upon her face, not quite understanding the contempt coming her way from his grandsire, and brought a smile back to her face.

“I’m fine, just getting a little tired.”

“Come on, we’ll take a break.” He took her hand in his and guided her back to the table.

Her father smiled at the two of them as they approached.

“You two look like you’ve been having fun.”

“We are.” She smiled, taking her seat next to him. Aemond moved to take the empty seat next to her when his mother called out to him. She beckoned him forward with a pointed look and he sighed, promising to find her later as he left her side to make his way back to the head table.

She watched him go with sorrowful eyes, her gaze moving over to Otto and suppressing a shiver at the cold look she received.

She seemed to shrink in her seat, catching her father’s attention. He followed her gaze, his face hardening, his posture becoming rigid as he noticed the cold glare the Hand of the King was sending his daughter.

He had never liked Hightower, he didn’t trust the man. He somehow always seemed to take control of the council meetings, proclaiming he knew what the King’s best interests were. He was a snake of a man and he would not let him drag his daughter into his games.

He placed his arm over her shoulder, portraying a united front, a warning to anyone that would seek to bring her harm that he would deal with them swiftly. He may be the Lord of a peaceful house but that did not mean he did not know how to fight or that he wouldn’t commit whatever violence was needed to protect his family.

She stayed by her father’s side for the rest of the night, sharing looks of mourning with Aemond as he was sequestered to his mother’s side, unable to escape the politicking unfolding at the head table of Royals.

As the celebration was winding down, most taking their leave for the night, she bid her father goodnight and sulked out of the large hall.

She knew whatever reservations Aemond’s grandsire had of her would keep him from her, that there was no use in hoping for another moment with him.

She shouldn’t have been so upset, she had practically the entire day with him and all her previous days, but that somehow didn’t stop the twisting of her insides as the thought of his own family disliking her, of there being some kind of plot to keep her away from him.

The sound of her name being called made her raise her head, a smile growing instantly at the sight of Aemond waving her over.

“Where are you going?”

“I was headed to my chambers. I thought the celebration was over.”

Aemond took her hand and pulled her along with him. “Not yet.”

She smiled along with him, happily following him. As he guided her out of the Keep, her smile began to falter slightly in confusion.

“Where are we going?”

“Aegon said he had a surprise.”

An uneasy feeling began to fester within her. She didn’t particularly like any time she had spent with his older brother. She didn’t trust a single thing about him. Thoughts of the pink dread came to mind and she quickly held back the bitterness that grew. She didn’t want to doubt Aemond, but she had little hope this surprise would be a showing of brotherly love.

As the two of them snuck passed the gates, a hooded figure waited for them.

Aegon’s smirk dropped the moment he spotted the two of them hand in hand.

“What the bloody hell is she doing here?”

“Aegon.” Aemond admonished.

“I didn’t invite her, I invited you.”

“She’s my friend. She has every right to join us.”

The disdain on his face faltered slightly and soon morphed into a devious smirk, a laugh leaving his curled lips, one that made her stiffen.

“I do hope you enjoy the surprise, My Lady.” He drawled, the sickly sweet tone of his voice making her want to squirm and head back to the safety of her chambers.

But Aemond’s hand in hers kept her in place, her stride matching his as they followed Aegon.

The further they ventured from the familiarity of the Red Keep, the tighter Aemond’s grip on her hand became, his suspicions rising as they continued their trek deeper into the streets of Flea Bottom.

He pulled her into his side as they passed a tavern, the rowdy sounds inside and the groups of drunken men they passed making his body stiffen.

“Aegon, what are we doing down here?” He called to his older brother.

No response was given and Aemond grit his teeth in annoyance. He should’ve known better than to trust his brother.

They came to a nondescript door and Aegon turned to face them, that smug smirk still on his face that made her hand twitch, longing to smack it right off his face.

“Well, brother, you’re almost a man grown. I think it’s time you get it wet.”

Aemond’s eyes narrowed, confusion twisting his features as a pit of dread began to grow within him. Aegon opened the door and motioned them inside.

When the two of them stood still in their spot, Aegon rolled his eyes and gripped onto the front of Aemond’s shirt, yanking him forward, his hand still clasped tightly in hers pulling her along with him, the two of them stumbling through the door ungracefully.

The scantily clad women that filled the room made Aemond’s lone eye widen. He turned to his brother, his face red with both shame and anger.

“Aegon, why are we here?”

“Don’t be so uptight, Aemond.” His brother waved him off, brushing past them to be welcomed into the arms of a whore he frequented.

He was quickly guided off to a room, leaving the two of them to remain standing at the door stiffly, their shocked eyes taking in the room before them.

A group of women soon surrounded them, pulling Aemond away from her.

He tensed as hands ran down his arms and he shook them off, his head craning to catch a glimpse of his friend. He called out her name, but if she gave any response it was drowned out by the tittering laughter of the women in front of him.

“Is she your betrothed?”

“We can help you, teach you how to please her.”

“We’ll make you a God, My Prince.”

Aemond’s face twisted in disgust at the filth they began to spout, shrugging off their wandering hands, flinching as a hand landed on his thigh, slowly beginning to creep upwards.

“Don’t touch me.” He snapped, his heart beginning to race as a dreadful feeling overcame him.

He remembered it well, what it was like to not be in control. He remembered what happened the last time he had felt this helpless, wanting to scream but knowing no one was listening, no one caring about his discomfort. His scar flared with pain at the memory and he winced, pushing the woman who was trying to crawl into his lap away from him.

He called out her name again, panic seeping through his tone.

He stumbled over his own feet in his haste to escape the gaggle of whores that tried to tempt him. He pushed them out of his way, one goal in his mind, one face he desperately needed to see.

Across the room, he spotted her, his chest tightening as he saw the discomfort on her face as many pairs of hands tangled through her hair and pulled at her dress.

“You’re a pretty little thing.”

“Just imagine when your tits come in, you’ll put all of us out of work. The men will be lining up to take a turn with you.”

“Don’t worry, Honey. We can prepare you so it won’t hurt too much when your old husband beds you.”

The whores’ words made her stomach clench and she squirmed under their hands that attempted to get her out of her clothes.

The feeling of lips caressing her neck made her flinch, a small squeak of surprise escaping her before she could even fully realize what was happening.

“Get off her.” A stern voice spoke.

She let out a stunted breath as she realized it was Aemond. She reached out and within a second, he hauled her up and wrapped her under his arm as he pushed their way out of the brothel.

A ragged breath left him as the stench of perfume finally lifted, the debauched sounds of the pleasure house muffled and distant as the door closed behind them. He looked down at the girl under his arm and a bolt of worry shot through him at the sight of her blank stare.

A low hum rang in her ears, her body trembling slightly as it tried to make sense of what had just happened, of what could have happened.

“Hey, look at me, please.” His pleading voice came through and she slowly raised her head, her gaze meeting his worried eye.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what he was planning. I never should have trusted him.” He rambled, his own voice wavering slightly, his trembling hands moving to cup her cheeks. “I swear to you, I never would have come if I had known.”

“It’s ok.” She breathed out quietly.

He sighed, the fear on her face still evident.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded wordlessly and he winced, the gesture so unconvincing he quickly wrapped her in a tight hug.

“I’ll take you back to the Keep.”

She looked down the darkened alley fearfully, the thought of making her way through the streets of Flea Bottom so late had dread settling in her stomach.

“It’s ok.” Aemond assured her, taking her hand in his, noting the unease in her eyes. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

They began to walk, the silence between them stifling, something so unfamiliar to the inseparable pair.

“I’m sorry.” She began quietly. “You don’t need to- you can stay if you wish. I don’t want to ruin your night.”

Aemond stopped in his tracks, his lone eye wide with horror as he looked at her in complete shock.

“I don’t- no! I didn’t want- this wasn’t-” He was at a loss for words. He blew out a long breath, cursing Aegon profusely in his head. “I don’t want to… do what Aegon does.” He explained vaguely, unable to bring himself to speak of his brother’s depravity in front of her.

The insinuation of him acting like Aegon, of sullying himself with the same debauchery that brought his family shame made his stomach twist. He never wanted her to see him like that, he never wanted her to think he would ever act like his brother.

Aemond ran a hand through his hair. “Fucking twat.” He mumbled under his breath. He wanted to throttle Aegon

A small giggle met his ears and he looked at her, slightly bewildered by the small upturning of her lips he saw, so unlike the fear he had seen etched in her eyes just seconds before.

“I’ve never heard you swear.”

He let out a small noise of surprise, unsure if she was truly smiling or if it was a ruse to placate him.

“So unbecoming of a Prince.” She jested and he let himself laugh, her sarcasm, her humor so like the girl he knew that it was enough to ease his worry.

He liked his arm through hers, holding her closely to his side as they began to walk again.

“Did this ruin your name day?” She asked after a few moments of silence.

He looked over at her thoughtfully. His day began with her, her excited smile beaming as she demanded he open her present, her at his side loyally all day. No one had ever been so attentive to him, not even on past name days.

“No.” He answered honestly. Nothing could ruin the content she gave him, the feeling of being wanted and needed that surrounded him when she was around was stronger than any blow of shame Aegon could deliver.

Neither of them spoke of that night, the both of them too embarrassed by what they had seen and heard to say anything about it.

Though the seeds of lust were planted.

As the years passed and they grew older, their childhood innocence dissipating into adult desires and longing, it became harder to deny what was between them. The looks that passed between them were no longer the shared smiles of childhood friends, they were the looks of longing that stirred the shared hunger that grew steadily with each passing day.

After that night, she loathed to think of her friend, her Aemond, venturing back there with Aegon, indulging those whores, laying with them, letting them touch him, his own hands greedily touching every inch of their bodies. The thought of him laying with another was like a lance to the heart.

The same dread plagued Aemond.

He made himself sick thinking of his friend, the girl he always simply considered to be his, indulging one of the many suitors that ogled her.

Aemond thought of what those whores had told her, that she would have to lay with a husband leagues older than her and endure the lackluster and, most likely violent, attempts to produce an heir.

The thought had his insides twisting. The thought of any man with their hands on her sent fury racing through him.

As they grew, he couldn’t help but find his thoughts of her drifting to ones that would be considered less than innocent, not thoughts one should be having of a dear friend.

He couldn’t help but admire her curves, the dip of her cleavage she had no trouble showing in the low cut gowns she wore around the Keep. It drove him crazy.

It was becoming more and more common that he would wake, his thoughts racing of images of her lingering from his dreams. He would roll over, imagining she was laying next to him in his bed, tangled within his sheets, her sweet smile his first sight of the day.

He had no time to feel guilty as his hand ventured below his sheets, as he found his hard length that was more often than not standing at attention to the thought of her.

He would let his eye close, imagining her hand taking his place, of her sweet mouth taking him in, of the praises she would give him as he took her over and over, the sound of her delectable moans and pleas for him.

His mouth would part with panting breaths as he thought of the pleasure he could give her, of the pleasure he longed to give her and the pleasure she would bestow upon him.

His hand would speed as he neared his end, his body writhing among his silken sheets, his head fallen back against his pillow as he pictured her face, what it would look like as he brought her to climax.

The thought, as always, was his undoing.

His lips parted with a long groan, the raspy call of her name becoming familiar to the walls around him. He panted as he expelled the last spurts of spend on his stomach, his limbs feeling weak as he let his fantasy dissipate.

He didn’t know how much longer he could continue without having her in his arms. He didn’t know how he could endure meeting her gaze with such filthy thoughts of her in his mind.

Later that day, as he caught her eye as she sat with the ladies of the court, he felt his face flush, the images of her he conjured in the privacy of his chambers rushing back to him.

The warm smile and small wave she sent him only incensed him further, leaving him to contemplate for a few long moments whether he should neglect his training with Ser Criston to return to his chambers and deal with the heat she had unknowingly spread throughout his body that was undoubtedly weak for her.

He was doomed to her.

The longer he repressed his growing feelings for his best friend, the more he couldn’t get her off his mind.

He woke early one morning to avoid passing her by, knowing with one mere look at her he would be a distracted, bumbling mess for the rest of the day. He was determined to get through at least one training session without his thoughts drifting to her.

He had been successful for a short time, managing to best Ser Criston time and time again, his focus purely on the weapon he wielded with precision.

Until he heard that familiar laugh, a sound so purely wonderful, it almost knocked him off his feet.

His gaze wandered around the training yard before they found her, as he always would, her arm linked through Helaena’s their smiles wide as they watched the training commence.

As if sensing his gaze on her, she turned her head, her eyes meeting his. She smiled, the sight blindingly beautiful. He sent her a wave, hoping the blush on his cheeks wasn’t as severe as it felt.

The sound of a throat clearing beside him broke him out of his daze and he turned sharply to meet the knowing smirk of Ser Criston.

“Shall we continue or are you done for the day?”

The knight’s tone implied he knew exactly what thoughts had been running through the Prince’s mind the moment he saw his dear friend. Anyone with eyes and half a working brain could see the affection the Prince and the Ixtal girl held for each other.

Aemond grit his teeth, sending a glare the knight’s way as he spun his sword effortlessly, a flagrant display of his prowess with his beloved blade.

“I am more than ready to continue, but if you require a break I will gladly find another opponent to knock into the dirt.”

Criston snorted and raised his sword, giving the young Prince he had valiantly trained a pointed look.

With one last gaze up to the woman on the balcony, the sly wink she sent him giving him all the drive needed, he raised his sword and struck a deadly swing towards his mentor who scrambled to block it.

His heart raced with adrenaline. The wink she had sent him igniting the fire in his blood, only incenting him to display his power to her, determined to win, determined to show her his strength.

He wasn’t a boastful man, he left those frivolities to his older brother, but when it came to her he suddenly didn’t recognize the feelings within him, the desires that had taken root that seemed to unravel him to his most basic senses.

Up on the balcony she repressed a shiver as she watched Aemond fight with an ease that made her body heat and caused her mind to conjure things her Septa would’ve slapped her for ever thinking as an unmarried woman.

“He’s very good.” Helaena commented, not noticing the desire now lingering in her friend’s eyes.

“Yes, he is.” She murmured, attempting to shake herself from thoughts of him handling her in the delicate yet deliberate way he did his sword.

Later that night, as she and her father joined the Targaryen family for dinner, she couldn’t get her mind off of what she had seen in the training yard. She couldn’t help the nervous flutters that erupted within her as she took her seat in between Helaena and Aemond.

It was her usual seat, she had spent too many dinners to count by his side, but for reasons she couldn’t quite understand - or refused to - she suddenly felt bashful in her friend’s presence.

The smile he sent her in greeting made her stomach flip.

She could barely concentrate on anything besides his presence beside her. She was sure she was about to crumble into a puddle as his fingers brushed against hers as he passed her the jug of wine.

She took greedy swallows of the drink, hoping it would dull her sense enough to withstand the looks he sent her every now and again, his smile warm, his gentle affection subtle but enough to undo her completely.

As Helaena engaged her in conversation, telling her one of the many stories of her beloved twins, she let her thoughts of Aemond dissipate, smiling softly to her dear friend who glowed with her love of her children.

She listened intently, allowing her nerves to retreat to the shadows of her mind.

As conversations around the table continued, she let her eyes wander curiously. She turned her head, catching Aemond’s gaze already on hers. He straightened and abruptly tore his eye back to the plate in front of him, though the blush that grew on his cheeks was undeniable.

A shock of excitement rushed through her at his reaction, suddenly realizing she wasn’t as hopeless as she had thought. She thought back to all the times she had caught Aemond looking at her, all the times he sought her out before anyone else, all the times he had abandoned whatever it was he was doing just to see her and spend a mere moment together.

She suddenly wondered if it meant as much to him as it did to her.

She wondered if her dear friend was caught in the same haze of longing she found herself drowning in.

The slamming of the door made her flinch, the book she was reading slipping from her hands. She sat up straighter when she noticed Aemond standing rigid, his chest heaving with heavy breaths as he tried to rein in his anger.

“What happened?”

“My fucking grandsire.” He seethed.

She remained seated and silent, allowing Aemond to vent out his anger.

“They want to betrothe me to some Baratheon girl.” He explained as he began to pace erratically. “They’re bringing her to court for the Summer Feast. They expect me to do my duty with that plain-” He stopped himself abruptly before any insults could pass his lips.

She frowned, setting her book aside.

“Tell them you don’t wish to marry her.”

Aemond hummed, the sound more bitter than she had ever heard it. “My grandsire isn’t as agreeable as your father.”

He knew the Lord of Ixtal had vetoed a number of requests for his daughter’s hand at her request. He didn’t want his daughter shackled to a man she did not desire.

He wished his family was as caring to his needs as hers was.

“Well, I guess you need to find the love of your life before the Baratheon girl arrives.”

Aemond looked over at her plainly, clearly not in the joking mood.

“This is not funny.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t see what the issue is. Tell your family this isn’t what you want.”

“They don’t care about what any of us want. If they did, Helaena wouldn’t be forced at Aegon’s side.”

She frowned at the mention of her dear friend and what she had to endure with her drunken leech of a husband.

“I’m running out of time.” Aemond sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been able to keep them at bay the past few years, but they’re becoming more incessant, I can’t stall any longer.”

The thought of being forced to marry some girl he didn’t know, a girl who would never compare to the woman in front of him, the woman he longed for, desired before he even knew what it meant to desire a woman, left him feeling hollow.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could solve this for you, but I don’t think your mother would take too kindly to my meddling.”

Aemond huffed out a laugh at the thought. He looked at his friend curiously, noting how cavalier she found the idea of marriage.

“Isn’t your father putting pressure on you to marry?”

“Not exactly. He’s hinting at the time coming for me to go back home, but no plans have been made just yet.”

Her words made his stomach twist. The thought of her leaving King’s Landing, of not seeing her everyday, was unfathomable.

“They don’t have a courtship lined up for you?”

“No. Who I marry is my decision.”

“Is it that easy?”

She breathed out a small laugh at his disbelieving tone.

“Ixtal isn’t as conservative as King’s Landing. We don’t force people to be together, we don’t expect women to wait to find pleasure until marriage. We don’t expect a fruitful marriage to come from sexual disappointment.”

Aemond blushed at her words, his eyes darting to the wall behind her, unable to keep her gaze as she spoke of things his mother would’ve slapped their wrists for.

“My mother said marriage is for the sake of duty. To unite strong houses.”

She scoffed, sending her friend a pointed look of disappointment.

“You’re forced to marry for every reason other than your own happiness. It’s barbaric.”

“It is duty.”

“So you just accept it? Being tied to someone you don’t love for the rest of your life?”

“Some grow to love each other.” He said quietly, though he couldn’t deny how undesirable the customs, one he had known his entire life, sounded to his own ears.

“So if you’re betrothed to a Baratheon daughter, you’ll accept it?”

“No, of course not.” He answered immediately, his tone sharper than he intended.

“Why? You’ll have to marry someday. Soon I’ll need to go home and find myself a nice man to settle with.”

The reminder of his time with her coming to an end made it feel as though his heart was turning to stone. Her previous words about Ixtal’s customs suddenly came screaming back to him and his hands tightened into fists, fury rising within him at the thought of men touching her, kissing her, making love to her.

“Aemond.”

The sound of that beautiful voice saying his name made him look up, the anger inside him washing away at the knowing look on her face. She stood from her seat and took slow steps towards him until she was only inches away, making his throat tighten at the closeness he was constantly longing for.

The unspoken things between them bubbled to the surface, reaching a boiling point as they looked at each other in the dim light, the topic of conversation causing tensions to run high, threatening to reveal true emotions that were kept hidden for so long.

“Eventually, you’ll have to marry, and so will I. We’ll have to do our duty, as you say.”

He swallowed thickly, his eyes unable to hold her gaze any longer, falling onto his hands that clenched and unclenched as waves of anxiety passed through him.

She sighed heavily and stepped past him, moving towards the door. She loved so many things about Aemond, but his refusal to feel anything but anger, his stubborn nature to speak his true thoughts, angered her.

“I don’t want you to go back to Ixtal.” He admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. But she heard him. She would always hear him.

“Why?”

“Because you belong here.” He told her, his gaze rising to pierce into hers, his tone becoming sharp once more. “Because the thought of you going home, marrying some man that doesn’t deserve you, makes me furious. The thought of you-” He stopped abruptly, looking away from her, his hands clenched tightly.

“Would you be jealous knowing another man has touched me?”

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he turned on his heel and moved towards her so they were now chest to chest. He had to fight hard to keep his composure, to not close his eyes in bliss at the feeling of her body against his.

“I would kill every man that dared to touch you.”

A devious smirk grew on her lips, one he wanted to kiss away desperately.

“Would you feel jealous if-”

“Yes.” She answered immediately, shamelessly. She smirked at the way his breath hitched, as the hunger in his eye grew tenfold. “I don’t share.”

Aemond almost choked on his breath at her insinuation.

Her arms slithered over his shoulders, pulling him in closer to her, close enough they could feel the other’s heart racing wildly.

“You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” She whispered and Aemond could’ve sworn he would melt into the floor into a puddle of nothing.

Her lips crashed onto his and he was powerless against her touch. He kissed her back with a furious desperation, revealing every ounce of desire he held for her. He needed her like the air he breathed and it was never more evident in the way his lips molded against hers, in the way his tongue tangled with hers, how his hands held to her hips tightly, ensuring she couldn’t part from his side.

Her nails scratched against the leather of his doublet as she kissed him fiercely, hoping he would understand, hoping the hunger in her kiss and touch was enough to make him realize she didn’t want anyone but him.

His mind was blank save for thoughts of her.

The duty he had adhered to his entire life, the duty that had been instilled in him since his birth, didn’t exist. His duty to his mother, to his grandfather, didn’t exist as he kissed her.

He knew then and there that he was going to marry her, his only friend, the beautiful girl that had his young heart racing, or he wouldn’t marry at all.

They pulled away from the kiss, the both of them breathing heavily, neither parting too far from the other. Aemond smiled softly and let his forehead rest against hers.

“I won’t marry her.” He breathed out in promise, his chest tightening pleasurably as he saw the smile that grew on her kiss swollen lips.

“Iksā ñuhon, issa prūmia.” He whispered and placed a soft, slow kiss to her lips once more.

Her mind was racing. She knew few Valyrian words but none sounded familiar.

“What does that mean?”

Aemond just smiled and kissed her again, content to stay in that moment for the rest of his life.

The gravity of their actions, the realization that anyone could have walked into the library and saw them, could have told his mother or his grandfather, didn’t catch up to him until he had parted from her side and settled into bed for the night.

He lay rigid, his mind racing, his heart heavy with guilt.

If anyone had seen them it would have ruined her reputation. She’d be painted as a whore. The court would speculate what other Lord she’d kissed or opened her legs to.

Aemond couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t ruin her.

The next morning, every ounce of bliss he had felt with her lips against his was tainted with worry. He found her in the gardens, his cold stare softening as he spotted her sitting with Helaena and the twins.

The sight of her with little Jaeheara in her arms made his heart stop for a moment. He swallowed thickly, desperately moving past the emotions, the longing, the sight stirred within him.

“Good morning, brother.” Helaena greeted him brightly.

He just nodded briefly in greeting, his posture stiff as his gaze landed on her.

“Can we talk?”

Her smile faltered slightly and she placed the babe in her arms back to her mother before taking his offered arm, Aemond guiding them away from prying ears.

“Is everything alright?”

“What happened yesterday-”

“Do you regret it?” She asked stiffly, her worry evident as her grip on his arm became lax, as if she suddenly wanted to be anywhere but by his side.

“No! Never.” He responded frantically, his eyes leaving hers to take in their surroundings, making sure no one would hear them. “Yesterday was… it was long overdue.”

“Then why are you so tense?”

“No one can know.”

She sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging.

“The rumors that would spread if people saw us together would ruin you.”

“I think you’re giving the court too much credit.” She responded flippantly, her annoyance growing at Aemond’s worry. “Are you going to let me have a say in this or are we going to let the court decide our future for us?”

He spoke her name softly in exasperation, sparking her anger. She wrenched her arm out of his and walked a few paces to gain distance from him. She couldn’t think clearly so close to him.

“If you weren’t being truthful yesterday then tell me. Spare me the lies and tell me how you truly feel.”

“I wasn’t lying.” He assured her, his heart beginning to race in fear for where this conversation was headed. He loathed to hear the doubt in her voice. “I refuse to marry the Baratheon girl, I only want you.” He told her, his voice much quieter than before.

The fire in her eyes dissipated, her fears subsiding and she stayed still in her spot as he stepped towards her, closing the distance between them.

“We must keep this between us for now, at least until my father is more lucid and I can take our betrothal to him. I cannot let my grandfather know of this. He will only find a way to speed up a wedding to the Baratheon girl or any other Lady in the Keep.”

She looked up at him with a smirk, her heart jumping at his words.

“Betrothal?”

Aemond flushed and cleared his throat, as if the words were tightening his throat.

“Well, yes… is that not what-”

“I wouldn’t be opposed.” She spoke in an overly saturated tone, interrupting his nervous words. He looked at her fiercely, his lone eye betraying every ounce of lust, longing, and annoyance he held for her games.

“You will never stop vexing me, will you?”

“I am certain you love it.” She teased, his swiftly pink turning cheeks all the answer she needed from him. She straightened, clearing her throat, as she moved back to the matter at hand. “So we must sneak around?”

He looked regretful, his hands gently taking hers.

“I know it’s not ideal.”

She shrugged. “If that is the only way I can have you now, then I can live with it.”

Aemond smiled, a breath of relief leaving his lips, the heavy weight on his chest dissipating quickly.

A smirk grew on her lips, one he knew signaled mischief.

“So, that means we’d have to remain as friends in public.” She surmised, stepping closer to him, much too close, as their chests brushed against each other. “But behind closed doors…”

Aemond swallowed, his eyes fluttering closed as she leaned in, his lips brushing against his ear as she spoke.

“...I can do what I want with you.”

Aemond cleared his throat, desperately trying to keep a hold of what little control he had left.

“When we are behind closed doors, which we are not.” He reminded her, sounding exasperated, making her laugh softly.

She loved the effect she had on him.

“Meet me in my chambers tonight.” She whispered and placed a soft, barely there, kiss to his cheek, before leaving his side and making her way back to Helaena, leaving him with pink cheeks and a racing heart.

Night couldn’t have come fast enough. He spent the day training vigorously, Ser Criston taking the brunt of his pent up anticipation with round after round of sparring. His knee bounced impatiently throughout dinner, paying no mind to his mother’s attempts to bring him into the conversations he couldn’t bother to focus on.

He waited, long, torturous hours, until the sun had finally set and night descended on the Keep, the halls clearing as Lords, Ladies and their servants alike settled in for the night.

He paced in his room for longer than he would ever admit, his nerves bubbling low in his stomach, his hands twitching as he longed to reach for a goblet of wine to ease his worries.

He knew if his mother were to ever discover he had entered a lady’s chambers in the dead of night, let alone a Lady he was undeniably close to, she would slap him until he found his sense once again.

Though no amount of worry, no guilt over his allegiance to his duty could ever be enough to overtake what he felt for her, what he had unknowingly felt for so long.

With only his desire to see her, he purposefully strode across his room and pushed at the stone wall, silently thanking his brother for drunkenly revealing to him the secret passageways years ago.

It only took a few minutes until he found her door. With a deep breath, he stepped in slowly, his eyes immediately finding her as she sat at her vanity, brushing her hair. His breath caught in his throat when he noticed the sheer slip she wore as she readied herself for bed.

He cleared his throat, feeling a blush quickly and involuntarily growing on his cheeks as her eyes rose to meet his.

“You came.” She smiled.

“Of course I did.”

She got to her feet, taking slow steps towards him, as if he were a wild animal that would spook if she got too close too quickly. She knew he had a strong sense of duty, of what behavior was becoming of a princely man, it had been instilled in him by his family since he was born.

She knew he was breaking every single one of those lessons by being in her room so late at night.

“You know we do not have to sneak around. You can wait to court me as is proper.” She reminded him, hoping to ease his discomfort.

“I can’t take that risk.” He spoke smoothly, as if it didn’t even require a second thought. “I can’t take the chance that we will be denied. I can’t lose you before I’ve even had you.”

She smiled, her heart jumping in anticipation.

“So take me while you can.”

Barely a second later Aemond had crossed the room, his hands cradling her face gently as he crashed his lips to her, kissing her passionately, revealing every ounce of his desire for her.

She moaned happily against his lips, the noise forcing his body to tighten, every shred of control he thought he possessed gone in an instant.

They kissed as if they had been lovers for years, as if he had been gone for so long and they couldn’t wait to reunite as only lovers could.

His hands greedily roamed the curves he had admired for years. Her hands wove into his silken hair she had braided many times as children. The innocence was gone between them, no childlike wonderment left, leaving only their loving, lustful desires.

They pulled away after a few minutes, the both of them breathing heavily, their swollen lips turning upwards into a shared smile as their eyes met, the pure bliss in his lone eye matching hers.

He moved in again, desperate to get her lips back on his, but her hands on his chest stopped him. His brows furrowed, a strike of worry lashing him as he gazed at her in concern.

“I want to see all of you.” Her quiet voice spoke, her delicate touch framing his face, her fingers slowly canting upwards to trace the edge of his scar.

He flinched instinctively, having never felt the touch of another there, but almost instantly calmed as he stared into her eyes that reflected nothing but love and trust.

She had been there for him through everything, she had been the only one to see him for more than his title, to respect him as he was, simply a boy trying to find his place in the world.

He let out a shuddering breath, allowing his forehead to rest against hers as he built up the courage he needed to reveal his eye to her.

“Every part of you is beautiful, Aemond. I have known that for years and I certainly won’t think differently tomorrow.” She reassured him, her velvet voice melting the hardened resentment within him.

He swallowed against the tightness in his throat and reached up slowly, willing his hands not to tremble as he grasped the patch over his eye. Slowly, he pulled it off, revealing the sparkling sapphire in place of his eye.

A small laugh left her, scaring him momentarily until he saw the delight in her gaze rather than mocking cruelty as he had suddenly feared.

“I can’t believe you really listened to me.”

He smiled bashfully, remembering a conversation years ago, when she had suggested he put a ruby in place of his eye to resemble that of a dragon eye. He never told her when he took her suggestion, feeling too silly to divulge such a thing.

“Well, I’m sorry it’s not a ruby.”

She shook her head, her smile never faltering. “Why did you pick a sapphire?”

“It reminded me of the sea.” He stated simply, watching with bashful satisfaction as her smile smoothed out, her expression one of touched devotion.

He always told her she reminded him of the calming and luxurious blue waves that crashed on the shores of Ixtal, the waves he had become mesmerized by the day he met her.

“It’s beautiful.” She breathed out, feeling unable to take her eyes off the shining gem that made the man in front of her look even more ethereal than he already did.

Her eyes found the gem between every breathless and fiery kiss, somehow lingering as he pulled his clothes off, remaining, as if for comfort, as she bared herself to him for the first time.

It was a beacon to her, the guiding light in the ferocity of a storm, calming every one of her nerves as she was reminded he was hers just as she was his, as they always had been.

She felt as though there were sparks igniting under her skin as he touched her. She felt herself melt under his delicate fingers that curiously roamed her body. She felt beautiful under his awed gaze as he eagerly took in every inch of her, as if she were a divine entity he would soon bow to.

The second a gasp escaped her as his fingers found the wetness between her thighs, Aemond’s eye snapped to hers. He watched with wonderment as she vocalized her pleasure, pleasure that was because of him.

She smiled against his lips as he suddenly kissed her with a might she had never felt before. She was powerless against his hungry lips.

He let out a stunted breath at the sound of the whine that fell past her lips as he curled his finger, seeking out her pleasure, eager for it as if it were his own

The two of them never let their eyes wander too far from each other. He watched with a wide, amazed gaze as he brought her to her peak with his fingers, delighting in the pain he felt as her nails dug into his shoulder as her hips grinded against his hand.

The sounds of her soft moans echoed in his ears, alighting his body with furious desire.

As he settled between her legs, he looked down at her, his eyes posing his silent question, the devotion she saw from the beauty of his lone eye, that she felt from the gentle touch of the tips of his fingers that traced lines up and down her thighs, was enough to have her nodding immediately, fiery want washing over her.

He never dared to look away from the depth of her eyes as he delved inside her for the first time.

He watched her carefully, whispering apologies as she gasped, the foreign feeling making her tense slightly. His gentle caresses, his soft kisses down the length of her neck, the words of praise he gave her, were enough to soothe her, her body relaxing, the pain fading.

He began to thrust slowly, the pleasure soon becoming too much and his eye fell closed as he shuddered from the delirious pleasure of being inside of her, but he forced himself to bring his gaze back to her, taking in the starry eyed look in her own.

Their hands never left each other, Aemond gripped her hips as if he feared she would soon be forced away from him, her hands gripping onto his shoulders to ground herself in the wake of the unexpected pleasure he brought her.

His nose brushed against hers as he kissed her softly, his hips finding a rhythm that made them both sigh in delight. He felt his limbs tremble, his resolve slipping the longer he stayed inside her, quickly realizing nothing in his entire existence would ever compare to this, to being with her, the woman he loved more than life itself.

“Aemond.” She breathed out, pleading for him, pleading for this never to end, to never lose each other.

He squeezed his eye shut briefly, his movements becoming more controlled as he let his body adjust to the ecstasy he was feeling.

“You’re mine.” He panted, his hand moving to cup her cheek, his thumb caressing her soft skin affectionately. “You will always be mine.”

She nodded frantically, a moan falling past her lips as he found the spot inside her that made stars explode before her.

The noise had Aemond gritting his teeth, a desperate growl sounding and he knew this would be ending soon.

He quickened his movements, his hips rolling rapidly against hers. He choked out a surprised sounding moan as her legs wove around his waist, pulling him in deeper.

“Oh, Gods, I can’t-”

“Give it to me, Aemond. I want it. I want all of you.” She replied frantically, the growl in his voice causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.

She watched, entirely raptured by the sight before her as Aemond’s jaw dropped, his eye widening before slamming shut, his body trembling as a loud, desperate sounding groan fell from his lips. His hips became erratic, his movements becoming sloppy as he came hard, untethered from his control.

She gasped at the feeling, the tingling in her spine spreading until it burst, a cry of his name sounding in the room as she fell off the edge just a moment behind him.

Aemond slumped against her, his chest heaving alongside her own, his shuddering breaths cooling the skin at her shoulder where his head rested.

She ran her hands over his muscled shoulders and found their way into his hair and she began to run her fingers through his mussed strands gently as she found her way back to her body.

After a moment of quiet as their breathing relaxed, Aemond raised his head, his eye finding hers, her gaze locking onto the gem once more, their shared smiles bashful.

A soft giggle sounded from her and Aemond wanted to melt into her all over again. He rested his head against hers, placing a soft kiss to her lips.

“I love you.” He whispered in the quiet room.

“I love you.” She told him with just as much honesty and devotion as had sounded in his voice.

ENJOY! XX

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon fic

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igotanidea · 7 months

Text

Stuck: Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader

A/N: seriously, I almost titled this chapter "idiot" , XD (and that's also the spoiler alert XD)

part 1 to too much

part 2 : not enough

part 3 : almost there

***

One year ago

„When will you get those irrational thoughts out of your head Y/N?”

“What irrational thoughts?”

“About marriage out of love. No such thing exist in the world, my dear and if you do not start living in reality you shall become a spinster!”

“Mother!” Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the harsh and unjust words. She was still so young and to almost be called an old maid—

“Do not raise your voice young lady. You shall marry this season otherwise you would be putting our noble house in a very compromising position.”

“But-“

“Ah! Do not object your mother Y/N. You’ll do as I say. I know what’s best for you and you shall follow the lead. And that is precisely why you’ll accept when Lord Bridgerton proposes to you.”

“Lord Bridgerton!? Which one!?”

“The viscount, dear.” Her mother fluttered her fan imperiously. “Lord Anthony Bridgerton.”

“There is no possibility that I-“

“Hush!”

“Mother I –“

“You’ll say yes.” The tone of voice became much more commanding, leaving no space for discussion. It was like Y/N’s fate has already been decided.

“And why shall I? Because the viscount has decided he has enough pleasantries exchanged with modistes and actresses and other ladies free of the burden of the title. Because mighty Lord Bridgerton decided it is time to tie bounds with a young noble lady, who will be naïve and foolish enough to look at his antics without as much as a blink of an eye. Who will – dear lord – bear him an heir to the title and be the perfect little wife he would order around.”

“Y/N Y/L/N!” her mother raised from the chaise longue with cheeks flushed due to her daughter impertinence. “You will accept the proposal!”

“I will not!”

“Your father has already made the appropriate commitments!”

“Commitments!?”

“You shall be courted like a young lady should and get married in the fall.”

“Mother!”

“It has been decided. Now, you go and make yourself presentable. Lord Bridgerton has announced his visit in the afternoon.”

***

The visit was a disaster, to use the light words.

It was clear as day that neither Anthony nor Y/N were fully content with this arrangement and subconsciously tried to discourage the other. That way, when one of them would actually break it off, said one would be to blame for the disgrace, that would undeniably fall on both families.

However-

Despite some many character discrepancies they were both pertinacious and individualistic, ready to go the greatest length to have one’s own way. Neither of them was even thinking of surrendering easily.

Therefore, during his first appointment as a suitor Anthony was met with cold stares, minimum exchange of words and very noticeable distance on his future bride’s part.

Immediately matching the atmosphere and repaying in kind, only doubled in intensity.

Getting burned with the tea in response.

Causing a lot of havoc, many fake words of apologies and even more words of assurance that is must have been an unfortunate accident and he holds no grudge.

For obvious reason the time spend in L/N;s household was cut extremely short and Y/N was send to bed without supper to think about her erratic behavior.

Next few visits were no better.

Especially not the one when Anthony and Y/N were to reveal to a wide audience the nature of their acquaintance by strolling on the promenade, beaming with happiness due to their soon-to-be marriage.

“Dear lord, you are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony hissed in Y/N’s ear grabbing her arm with a bit more force than needed “Smile.”

She put on a fake grin when they were passing by some familiar face, but as soon as the woman was gone she turned to Anthony throwing daggers at him.

“Giving me orders already, Lord Bridgerton?”

“Hopefully you can be tempered if we start getting you used to it this early.”

“Oh! Perhaps it should be you to change the perspective my lord. See the real face of a lady you decided to meet at the altar?”

“And here I though your wonderful mother raised you better.”

“Do not dare speak of my mother the ill way!” she almost yelled, almost yanking her hand free from his grip, stopping the walk and challenging him to do something reckless.

“Forgive me.” He became serious in an instant and the words of apologies actually seemed honest. “You are right, I overstepped.”

“Thank you.” She responded with a deep sigh. God knows how much it took for her to stay calm. Regardless of the on-going conflict and differences in views between Y/N and her mother, the young woman would never let anyone offend her family. Not even Lord Bridgerton. And he should know that straight away.

“Perhaps we have started off the wrong foot, Lady Y/L/N.”

“I believe so. Seemingly we have a way to bring out the worst in each other, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Is that a way to tell me I have already seen you on your lowest behavior?”

“Compliments, Lord Bridgerton, you have endured my greatest efforts to cause you dispiritedness.” Despite herself she let out a chuckle.

“I am known for my endurance even in the least favorable circumstances.”

“I shall keep on my efforts, nonetheless.”

“I am deeply convinced that this will be the case”

***

Dearest gentle reader,

It has come to this writer’s attention that the affection between Viscount Bridgerton and young lady Y/L/N is in full bloom.

Despite the initial misunderstandings and noble behavior, that hasn't deceived any member of the ton, even if have been well played, recent news and observation has shown that maybe there's less pretending and more truth to it.

Much to the ton’s discombobulation, young pair has been seen laughing together while the viscount resorted to courting in the way that resemble his late father and Lady Violet Bridgerton manner.

This writer daresay that no elite member would have ever do as much as dream of Lord Anthony Bridgerton picking meadow flowers for his chosen one while walking in the fields, away from prying eyes. Neither anyone would ever think about the forever dreamer lady Y/l/n actually so close to fulfilling her dream of marrying out of love. Irrational thoughts, as someone may put.

It is yet to be decided whether the on-going courtship between lord Bridgerton and lady Y/L/N will be a source of impending scandal in the society or whether those two will actually succeed in keeping this lovable atmosphere for following years.

After all – real love is not easily found and even less easily kept once the obstacles arise.

***

Now.

“You are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony murmured taking Y/N;s arm and bowing to the passing nobles “Smile.”

Those words brought back some memories and she couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of the history that was in fact repeating itself.

“What is so funny?”

“Your memory does seem so be failing my lord. Won’t you remember the last situation when you told me to express my happiness and contentment to the ton?”

“I—” Anthony cut off, letting out a deep, frustrated sigh.

“Seem like you do after all.”

“Y/N…”

“Been a while since I had to pretend I was content though, given the fact that I truly was, of late.” The hint of sadness and melancholy was not to miss and did not make it easier for Anthony to pursue on the apologies he was tirelessly pursuing.

“Y/N…”

“Good job on choosing the right name since the person, whose hand you are now holding for display seem to be too much for you, my lord. To say the full truth I am fairly surprised you chased me here instead of focusing on spending time with one of your-“

“Don’t you finish that sentence.”

“Oh, I shall not, god forbid. I shall keep the pretenses as any lady married into a good family will.” She send the brightest smile to some kids that were running around, preached by their parents, holding her walls up.

At this point, mockery and distancing herself from the entire unfortunate events, if not fight, was the only way to prevent the emotional and mental breakdown and falling into tears. She was hurt. She was deeply hurt on a level she never thought existed. Anthony’s behavior hit precisely in all the sensitive spots, leaving her overthinking and wailing inside. Reminding her of all the years in her family’s household, being forced to act according to the standards, which she constantly broke, defying all the rules of ossified society and paying a heavy price for being herself despite the odds.

Being called too much, constantly.

Until she met Eloise, which was freeing. Y/N could finally feel like herself, spending a lot of time with Bridgertons.

And then meeting Anthony.

And actually creating a happy story with him, believing she would once and for all be free of the typecasting and tag putting.

But he started behaving in the same way to which she was exposed her entire life.

Too much.

Not enough.

And it made her angry.

“Please do forgive me for not easily being shaped in the wife you want me to be.”

“Shaped? I never wanted you any different!”

“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow teasingly and it got her furious glance of her husband’s and the tightening bruising grip on her wrist. “you’re hurting me. Again.” The emphasis put on the last word actually made Anthony realize that he was not made of stone, but the words he wished to say were not coming easily.

“Y/N…” he clenched his jaw. She was mocking and challenging him even now, when he was trying to admit he was wrong and trying to apologize for the wrongdoings.

“Yes, my lord?” she took a step back, smiling in that light way that made him even more furious.

“I believe you wanted to spend time on an intellectual conversation with my sister. Forgive me-“ he bowed in a distant manner reserved for strangers rather than spouses “-for being as impertinent to interrupt ladies’ time. I shall withdraw and leave you to continue on your – surely important- exchange”

And with those words, much to the shock of not only Y/N, but also Benedict and Eloise, who were still following them, Anthony bowed again and started walking away, raising clouds of dust due to the speed with which he rushed off from the place where he left his beloved wife.

Feeling the weight of failure and heartbreak on his shoulders, without a single way to make up for his mistake and keeping the face of a viscount at the same time.

Convinced that she hated him and there was no way to regain her favor and affection.

next part (finale!) : Just right

@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @budugu @frickin-bats @sillyfreakfanparty @amberpanda99 @nycthophiliaa @myaa21212121 @bananaadeleigate @everybodystaycalm @fmhcatt @sankareatheundead @cat-lockwood @1potato2rulethemall

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #bridgerton angst #anthony bridgerton angst

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pikahlua · 2 months

Text

MHA Chapter 430 spoilers translations

This week’s initial tentative super rough/literal translations under the cut.

1 もう壊したよ… もうこわしたよ… mou kowashita yo... It's already been destroyed...

2 それは明日のおまえら次第だなそれはあしたのおまえらしだいだな sore wa ashita no omaera shidai da na That depends on what you people decide to do tomorrow. (Note: This is a flashback to chapters 423 and 424.)

3 人はひとは hito wa People

4 生まれながらに平等じゃないうまれながらにびょうどうじゃない umare nagara ni byoudou ja nai are not born equal. (Note: This line is a reference to chapter 1.)

tagline 月日が流れーーつきひがながれーー tsukihi ga nagare-- The days pass by--

5 僕らは一人一人形が違ってぼくらはひとりひとりかたちがちがって bokura wa hitori hitori katachi ga chigatte Each of us is different in form,

sign 職員室しょくいんしつ shokuin-shitsu Staff Room

6 それ故に他者を思うそれゆえにたしゃをおもう sore yue ni tasha wo omou and therefore we think of others.

7 形の違うその身と心をかたちのちがうそのみとこころを katachi no chigau sono mi to kokoro wo The differences in our forms [are in both] the body and mind.

8 だからこそ他へ馳せだからこそほかへはせ dakara koso hoka e hase That's precisely why we go a different [direction]

9 交点を探すこうてんをさがす kouten wo sagasu to search for points of intersection.

10 緑谷兄ちゃんみどりやにいちゃん Midoriya-niichan "Midoriya-niichan*," (*Note: "Niichan" is a title given to young men or an "older brother," whether related in reality or just as a term of endearment.)

11 デク先生！午後の実技ってどこに集まっとけばいい？デクせんせい！ごごのじつぎってどこにあつまっとけばいい？ DEKU-sensei! gogo no jitsugi tte doko ni atsumattokeba ii? "Deku-sensei! Where should we gather for afternoon practical training?"

12 これが齢17歳にして知ったこれがよわい17さいにしてしった kore ga yowai 17sai ni shite shitta That's the hard truth I learned at age 17,

13 バス停前USJの行き方も兼ねてるからバスていまえユーエスジェーのいきかたもかねてるから BASUtei-mae YUU ESU JEE no ikikata mo kaneteru kara "In front of the bus stop, since it also serves as the way to go to the USJ."

14 社会の現実。しゃかいのげんじつ。 shakai no genjitsu. the reality of society.

1 あの日たしかに聞こえたあのひたしかにきこえた ano hi tashika ni kikoeta That day, I definitely heard them,

2 励ましと祈りの声ははげましといのりのこえは hagemashi to inori no kore wa the voices of encouragement and prayer.

3 今も僕を奮い立たせてくれる。いまもぼくをふるいたたせてくれる。 ima mo boku wo furui tatasete kureru. They still inspire me.

4 誰かに思いを馳せる事がヒーローへの一歩だとしたらだれかにおもいをはせることがヒーローへのいっぽだとしたら dareka ni omoi wo haseru koto ga HIIROO e no ippo da to shitara If thinking of others is a step towards [becoming a] hero,

5 あの日　誰もが最高のヒーローだった。あのひ　だれもがさいこうのヒーローだった。 ano hi daremo ga saikou no HIIROO datta. then that day, everyone were all the greatest heroes.

6 不相応な夢を叶えて貰ったふそうおうなゆめをかなえてもらった fusouou na yume wo kanaete moratta I had an undeserved dream come true for me.

7 考える前に動いてしまった事で始まった僕の物語はかんがえるまえにうごいてしまったことではじまったぼくのものがたりは kangaeru mae ni ugoite shimatta koto de hajimatta boku no monogatari wa As for my story, which began when I moved before I could think,

book title 敵連合ヴィランれんごう VIRAN rengou The League of Villains

1 OFAの残り火と共に幕を閉じていく。ワン・フォー・オールののこりびとともにまくをとじていく。 WAN FOO OORU no nokoribi to tomo ni maku wo tojite iku. the curtain has started to close on it along with the embers of One For All.

2 じゃあ jaa Well then,

3 何でまだコレを書いてるかって？なんでまだコレをかいてるかって？ nande mada KORE wo kaiteru ka tte? why am I still writing this, you ask?

4 だってまだ datte mada Because, there's still

5 ページは続いているからねページはつづいているからね PEEJI wa tsudzuite iru kara ne the pages that are continuing. (Note: Contextually, this would read as "There are still pages left to fill.")

1 ８年後８ねんご 8nengo 8 years later

2 諸君もいよいよ受験生だ‼︎ しょくんもいよいよじゅけんせいだ‼︎ shokun mo iyoiyo jukensei da!! "All of you are finally [entering the school year when you will take] entrance exams!!"

3 来週までに進路希望を提出する事‼︎ らいしゅうまでにしんろきぼうをていしゅつすること‼︎ raishuu made ni shinro kibou wo teishutsu suru koto!! "By next week, submit your career aspirations!!"

4 俺ぁヒーロー科！雄英だな！おれぁヒーロー科！ゆうえいだな！ orea HIIROO-ka! yuuei da na! "Mine's the hero course! At UA!"

5 今アツイのはサポートアイテムだよ！いまアツイのはサポートアイテムだよ！ ima ATSUI no wa SAPOOTO AITEMU da yo! "Support items are what's hot right now!"

6 絶対「ライトリーラボ」のメンバーになるンだ！ぜったい「ライトリーラボ」のメンバーになるンだ！ zettai 「RAITORII RABO」 no MENBAA ni naruNda! "I'll definitely become a member of the Lightly Lab!"

7-8 あの大天才発目明さんが所属するサポートアイテムデザイン事務所！あのだいてんさいはつめめいさんがしょぞくするサポートアイテムデザインじむしょ！ ano daitensai Hatsume Mei-san ga shozoku suru SAPOOTO AITEMU DEZAIN jimusho! "The support item design office that super-genius Mei Hatsume-san belongs to!"

9 僕は吉田竜ドクターみたいにぼくはよしだりゅうドクターみたいに boku wa Yoshida-ryuu DOKUTAA mitai ni "I [wanna be] like Doctor Ryuu Yoshida"

10 回復不可能な人をも治せるような医師になる…必ずなかいふくふかのうなひとをもなおせるようないしになる…かならずな kaifuku fukanou na hito wo mo naoseru you na ishi ni naru...kanarazu na "and become a doctor who can cure even those who cannot recover...definitely."

11 私は5年前に"サイバ・ウォー"で伝説をつくったGeL Inc.に入りたい！わたしは5ねんまえに"サイバ・ウォー"ででんせつをつくったジーエルインクにはいりたい！ watashi wa 5nenmae ni "SAIBA・WOO" de densetsu wo tsukutta JII ERU INKU ni hairitai! "I want to join GeL Inc., which created a legend with 'Cyber War' five years ago!"

12 プログラミング！パリキャリかっこいいの！ PUROGURAMINGU! PARI KYARI kakko ii no! "Programming! Paris and Cali are so cool!"

1 え⁉︎おまえもヒーロー志望なのかよ⁉︎ え⁉︎おまえもヒーローしぼうなのかよ⁉︎ e!? omae mo HIIROO shibou nanoka yo!? "Eh!? You also aspire to be a hero!?"

2 うわあ見るなよ！うわあみるなよ！ uwaa miruna yo! "Waah don't look!"

3 おまえの"個性"はさすがにムズくね!⁉︎ おまえの"こせい"はさすがにムズくね!⁉︎ omae no "kosei" wa sasuga ni MUZUku ne!!? "But surely that'll be difficult with your quirk!!?"

4 ダイ！ "Dai!" DAI!

5 それは…わからんでしょ…！ sore wa...wakaran desho...! "That's...you don't know...!"

6 ただでさえ敵発生率も減少傾向でただでさえヴィランはっせいりつもげんしょうけいこうで tada de sae VIRAN hasseiritsu mo genshou keikou de "Even in the most opportune times, the incidence rate of villains is on the decline,"

7 ヒーローも数絞られてきてンだぜ⁉︎ ヒーローもかずしぼられてきてンだぜ⁉︎ HIIROO mo kazu shiborarete kiteNda ze!? "and the number of heroes has been narrowed down too, right!?"

8 ごっからは真に強ェ奴だけがヒーローになる時代だぜ！ごっからはしんにつえェやつだけがヒーローになるじだいだぜ！ gokkara wa shin ni tsueE yatsu dake ga HIIROO ni naru jidai da ze! "It's an era when only truly strong guys become heroes!"

9 みんな変わっちゃったみんなかわっちゃった minna kawachatta Everyone has changed.

10 ガキの頃は口を揃えてガキのころはくちをそろえて GAKI no koro wa kuchi wo soroete When I was a kid, everyone would say it in unison.

11-12 オールマイトやエンデヴァー　ベストジーニスト　デク　大・爆・殺・神ダイナマイト‼︎ショートみたいになりたいって　デク　だい・ばく・さっ・しんダイナマイト‼︎ショートみたいになりたいって OORU MAITO ya ENDEVAA BESUTO JIINISUTO DEKU daibakusasshin DAINAMAITO!! SHOOTO mitai ni naritai tte They'd all say 'I wanna be like All Might or Endeavor, Best Jeanist, Deku, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight!! Like Shouto!'

13 わかってる wakatteru I get it.

14 僕だけがガキのままぼくだけがガキのまま boku dake ga GAKI no mama I'm the only one who stayed like a kid.

15 だから不安になった時はいつもここに来るだからふあんになったときはいつもここにくる dakara fuan ni natta toki wa itsumo koko ni kuru That's why, when I feel anxious, I always come here.

1 ダイくん一年生がんばれそう？ダイくんいちねんせいがんばれそう？ DAI-kun ichinensei ganbaresou? Ready to try your best as a first-year, Dai-kun?

2 うん un Uh-huh! (Note: These two lines are a flashback back to chapter 258.)

3 デビュー以降目覚ましい活躍を見せるテンタコルデビューいこうめざましいかつやくをみせるテンタコル DEBYUU ikou mezamashii katsuyaku wo miseru TENTAKORU "Since his debut, Tentacole has shown us remarkable service."

4 僻地などで未だ見られる形質差別由来の事件に尽力し平和的に解決してきたその功績と影響をたたえ ��きちなどでいまだみられるけいしつさべつゆらいのじけんにじんりょくしへいわてきにかいけつしてきたそのこうせきとえいきょうをたたえ hekichi nado de ima da mirareru keishitsu sabetsu yurai no jiken ni jinryoku shi heiwateki ni kaiketsu shite kita sono kouseki to eikyou wo tatae "In recognition of his achievements and influence in peacefully resolving incidents stemming from trait discrimination that still occur in remote areas,"

5 イマムラ平和賞が授与されました！イマムラへいわしょうがじゅよされました！ IMAMURA heiwashou ga juyo saremashita! "the Imamura Peace Prize has been awarded!"

6 この賞は8年前蜂起した彼らへこのしょうは8ねんまえほうきしたかれらへ kono shou wa 8nenmae houki shita karera e "This award goes those who rose up 8 years ago."

7 俺は彼らの決意の上に立っているに過ぎないですおれはかれらのけついのうえにたっているにすぎないです ore wa karera no ketsui no ue ni tatte iru ni suginai desu "I am doing nothing more than standing atop their resolve."

1 続いてはチームアップニュースつづいてはチームアップニュース tsudzuite wa CHIIMUAPPU NYUUSU "Continuing on, in team-up news,"

2 インゲニウムフロッピー・クリエティそしてウラビティが全国の小学校を巡っていますインゲニウムフロッピー・クリエティそしてウラビティがぜんこくのしょうがっこうをめぐっています INGENIUMU FUROPPI・KURIETI soshite URABITI ga zenkoku no shougakkou wo megutte imasu "Ingenium, Froppy, Creati, and Uravity are patrolling at elementary schools all over the country."

3 敵発生率の減少に伴い活動の幅を広げる"ヒーロー"たちその中でもーーヴィランはっせいりつのげんしょうにともないかつどうのはばをひろげる"ヒーロー"たちそのなかでもーー VIRAN hasseiritsu no genshou ni tomonai katsudou no haba wo hirogeru "HIIROO"-tachi sono naka demo-- "Even among the heroes whose scopes of activities are expanding with the decrease in the villain incidence rate,"

4 ウラビティの打ち出した"個性"カウンセリング拡張計画は今最も必要不可欠な活動と言われていますウラビティのうちだした"こせい"カウンセリングかくちょうけいかくはいまもっともひつようふかけつなかつどうといわれています URABITI no uchidashita "kosei" KAUNSERINGU kakushou keikaku wa ima motto mo hitsuyou fukaketsu na katsudou to iwarete imasu "The quirk counseling expansion plan launched by Uravity is said to be the most essential activity right now."

5 おい緑谷これ見たか？おいみどりやこれみたか？ oi Midoriya kore mita ka? "Hey Midoriya, have you seen this?"

6 おまえの幼なじみまたチャート落とすぞこりゃおまえのおさななじみまたチャートおとすぞこりゃ omae no osananajimi mata CHAATO otosu zo korya "Your childhood friend is gonna drop in the charts again with this."

7 かっちゃん… Kacchan... "Kacchan..."

8 なんでこんな近くにおンだてめェ‼︎ なんでこんなちかくにおンだてめェ‼︎ nande konna chikaku ni oNda temeE!! "Why are you this close to me, bastard!!"

9 ひっ‼︎ hi!! "Eep!!"

10 見せ物じゃねンだ死にてーのか‼︎ みせものじゃねンだしにてーのか‼︎ misemono ja neNda shinitee no ka!! "I ain't some spectacle, do you wanna die!!"

11 先生かっちゃん矯正しようと励んでましたよねせんせいかっちゃんきょうせいしようとはげんでましたよね sensei Kacchan kyousei shiyou to wa hagendemashita yo ne "Sensei, you were trying so hard to correct Kacchan, huh."

12 轟とはこれでだいぶ水あけられそうだなあとどろきとはこれでだいぶみずあけられそうだなあ Todoroki to wa kore de daibu mizu akeraresou da naa "Looks like this'll widen the gap between him and Todoroki."

1 連日連夜事件に駆けつけるれんじつれんやじけんにかけつける renjitsu ren'ya jiken ni kaketsukeru "He rushes to incidents day and night."

2 ぎこちないけど分け隔てないファンサぎこちないけどわけへだてないファンサ gikochinai kedo wakehedatenai FANSA "He's awkward, but he gives equal attention to all his fans*." (*Note: Literally this says "He does fan service," but the meaning here is more like what we see with Hawks and Endeavor in Kyushu where that little kid wanted Hawks' autograph and that one Endeavor fan was upset when Endeavor offered to shake his hand. THAT'S the kind of fan service this refers to.)

3 最近じゃエンデヴァーの息子だなんだって言われることも少なくなったそうださいきんじゃエンデヴァーのむすこだなんだっていわれることもすくなくなったそうだ saikin ja ENDEVAA no musuko da nanda tte iwareru koto mo sukunaku natta sou da "Recently it seems like people don't often mention that he's Endeavor's son."

4 シンリンカムイ・Mt.レディを抜いてシンリンカムイ・マウントレディをぬいて SHINRIN KAMUI・MAUNTO REDI wo nuite "He'll overtake Kamui Woods and Mount Lady,"

5 一気にトップの通形先輩と並ぶ勢いいっきにトップのとおがたせんぱいとならぶいきおい ikki ni TOPPU no Toogata-senpai to narabu ikioi "then right away he'll have the momentum to match Toogata-senpai at the top."

6 物間くんや骨抜くんもすごいしものまくんやほねぬきくんもすごいし Monoma-kun ya Honenuki-kun mo sugoi shi "Monoma-kun and Honenuki-kun are also amazing,"

7 先輩もこないだ「コエー！」って笑ってましたよせんぱいもこないだ「コエー！」ってわらってましたよ senpai mo konai da 「KOEE!」 tte warattemashita yo "and senpai* was also laughing and [calling them] 'Scaryyy!' the other day." (*Note: I think he's referring to Mirio here.)

8 ……さびしいか ......sabishii ka "......You lonely?"

9 …… "......"

10 でも demo "But"

11 昔　不和先輩が先生と話しててむかし　ふわせんぱいがせんせいとはなしてて mukashi Fuwa-senpai ga sensei to hanashitete "long ago, Fuwa-senpai was talking with you, Sensei,"

12 その時思ったんですそのときおもったんです sono toki omottandesu "and that's when I thought,"

13 "無個性"には戻るけど経験を活かして誰かを励ませるなら "むこせい"にはもどるけどけいけんをいかしてだれかをはげませるなら "mukosei" ni wa modoru kedo keiken wo ikashite dareka wo hagemaseru nara "I'll return to being quirkless, but if I can make use of my experience and encourage someone,"

14 それはとてもかっこいいかもなって sore wa totemo kakko ii kamo natte "that might be really cool."

15 かっこいいですかね　今僕かっこいいですかね　いまぼく kakko ii desu ka ne ima boku "Aren't I cool now?"

16 もう少し生徒に厳しくした方がいいなもうすこしせいとにきびしくしたほうがいいな mou sukoshi seito ni kibishiku shita hou ga ii na "It'd be better if you were a little more strict with the students."

17 大事なことだぞだいじなことだぞ daiji na koto da zo "It's important."

18 この現代でウチに入って来れるような奴はこのげんだいでウチにはいってこれるようなやつは kono gendai de UCHI ni haitte koreru you na yatsu wa "In this modern age, those who can get into [UA]"

19 将来ヒーロー確約されているようなもんだからなしょうらいヒーローかくやくされているようなもんだからな shourai HIIROO kakuyaku sarete iru you na mon da kara na "are guaranteed to be future heroes."

20 増長しないように俺たちが厳しくしないといけないんだわかるかぞうちょうしないようにおれたちがきびしくしないといけないんだわかるか zouchou shinai you ni ore-tachi ga kibishiku shinai to ikenainda wakaru ka "We have to be strict now to prevent them from growing arrogant, do you understand?"

21 先生けっこうやさしかったけどなせんせいけっこうやさしかったけどな sensei kekkou yasashikatta kedo na "Sensei, you were pretty kind though."

1 社会に出てからはしゃかいにでてからは shakai ni dete kara wa After entering society,

2 休みも合わないし集まる機会もなかなか作れないやすみもあわないしあつまるきかいもなかなかつくれない yasumi mo awanai shi atsumaru kikai mo nakanaka tsukurenai we don't have enough time off, and we can't easily make opportunities to get together.

3 男性からの支持圧倒的だんせいからのしじあっとうてき dansei kara no shiji attouteki "With overwhelming support from men,"

4 漢！烈怒頼雄斗の意外なオリジンに迫りますおとこ！レッドライオットのいがいなオリジンにせまります otoko! REDDO RAIOTTO no igai na ORIJIN ni semarimasu "chivalry*! The surprising origin of Red Riot approaches!" (*Note: Or, depending on how you like to translate Kirishima's favorite word, "Manliness!")

5 レッドだ！ REDDO da! "It's Red!"

6 アンブれいかぶる！ ANBUreikaburu! "Unbreakable!"

7 あっ a "Ah!"

8 皆の活躍を見るのはとても嬉しいみんなのかつやくをみるのはとてもうれしい minna no katsuyaku wo miru no wa totemo ureshii I'm very happy to see everyone in action*. (*Note: This word also refers to one's activities, their service, their successes and contributions, etc.)

9 学生の頃を思い出すとよくここに来るがくせいのころをおもいだすとよくここにくる gakusei no koro wo omoidasu to yoku koko ni kuru When I recall my days as a student, I often come here.

1 いだっ‼︎ ida!! "Ow!!"

2 ひゃん hyan "Oof!"

3 あっぶねーありがとござます！ abbunee arigato gozamasu! "That was dangerous, thank you very much!"

4 デ… DE... "De..."

5 え…デク⁉︎緑谷‼︎出久⁉︎ え…デク⁉︎みどりや‼︎いずく⁉︎ e...DEKU!? Midoriya!! Izuku!? "Eh...Deku!? Izuku Midoriya!?"

6 うわあ⁉︎実在してるんだあうわあうわあ⁉︎じつざいしてるんだあうわあ uwaa!? jitsuzai shiterundaa uwaa "Waah!? You really exist, wow!"

7 そっか sokka "I see."

8 受験生かあじゅけんせいかあ jukensei kaa "[You'll be taking] entrance exams, huh?"

9 …時代が急激に変わってって…僕みたいな …じだいがきゅうげきにかわってって…ぼくみたいな ...jidai ga kyuugeki ni kawatte tte...boku mitai na "...They say times are rapidly changing...it seems like that to me."

10 同級生に比べてめちゃ弱い"個性"はついていけなくなっちゃったどうきゅうせいにくらべてめちゃよわい"こせい"はついていけなくなっちゃった doukyuusei ni kurabete mecha yowai "kosei" wa tsuite ikenaku nachatta "Compared to my classmates, with my very weak quirk, I can't keep up."

11 だからここに来てオールマイト像に聞くんですだからここにきてオールマイトぞうにきくんです dakara koko ni kite OORU MAITO zou ni kikundesu "That's why I came here and asked the All Might statue."

1-2 僕もあなたたちのようなヒーローになれますかーーーって… ぼくもあなたたちのようなヒーローになれますかーーーって… boku mo anata-tachi no you na HIIROO ni naremasu ka---tte... "I asked, can I also become a hero like you guys...?"

3 "僕もオールマイトのように"ーーー "ぼくもオールマイトのように"ーーー "boku mo OORU MAITO no you ni"--- Just like me with All Might---

4 髪の皿みたいなモノを投てきする"個性"かかみのさらみたいなモノをとうてきする"こせい"か kami no sara mitai na MONO wo touteki suru "kosei" ka "A quirk that throws things that look like plates from one's hair, huh?"

5 髪由来なら峰田くんの応用で全然いけると思うなあ重ねることで強度も上がるし大きさも変わってたよね？汎用性あるよかみゆらいならみねたくんのおうようでぜんぜんいけるとおもうなあかさねることできょうどもあがるしおおきさもかわってたよね？はんようせいあるよ kami yurai nara Mineta-kun no ouyou de zenzen ikeru to omou naa kasaneru koto de kyoudo mo agaru shi ookisa mo kawatteta yo ne? han'yousei aru yo "If it comes from hair, I think you can absolutely use Mineta-kun's application. By piling them up, their strength increases and their size changes, right? It's versatile!" (Note: This text bubble is surrounded by the "mutter" sound effect often used for Izuku's mumbling.)

6 コワ‼︎いけど何これ励まされてる⁉︎ コワ‼︎いけどなにこれはげまされてる⁉︎ KOWA!! ikedo nani kore hagemasareteru!? "Creepy!! But also why is this encouraging!?"

7 夢をを叶えた後はゆめをかなえたあとは yume wo kanaeta ato wa After fulfilling [my own] dream,

8 大丈夫だいじょうぶ daijoubu "It's all right,"

9 だって君はさっき手を差し伸べようとしたじゃないかだってきみはさっきてをさしのべようとしたじゃないか datte kimi wa sakki te wo sashinobe you to shita ja nai ka "because back there, you tried to reach out your hand, didn't you?"

10 夢を与えていく番だゆめをあたえていくばんだ yume wo ataete iku ban da it's [my] turn to offer dreams.

1 君はヒーローになれるよきみはヒーローになれるよ kimi wa HIIROO ni nareru yo "You can become a hero!"

1 頑張れ少年！がんばれしょうねん！ ganbare shounen! "Do your best, young man!"

2 さびしくないと言ったらウソになるけどさびしくないといったらウソになるけど sabishikunai to ittara USO ni naru kedo If I said I wasn't lonely, I'd be lying, but

3 こんな風に誰かを励ませるならーーこんなふうにだれかをはげませるならーー konna fuu ni dareka wo hagemaseru nara-- if I can encourage someone like this--

4-5 これは僕たちが最高のヒーローになった物語これはぼくたちがさいこうのヒーローになったものがたり kore wa boku-tachi ga saikou no HIIROO ni natta monogatari This is the story of how we became the greatest heroes.

text in hand 完かん kan Complete

1 遅かったじゃないか少年‼︎ おそかったじゃないかしょうねん‼︎ osokatta ja nai ka shounen!! "You're late, young man!!"

2 仰ってくれたら空港まで迎えに行ったのに！おっしゃってくれたらくうこうまでむかえにいったのに！ osshatte kuretara kuukou made mukae ni itta noni! "If you had told me, I would have gone to pick you up from the airport!"

3 サプライズプレゼントしたくてね SAPURAIZU PUREZENTO shitakute ne "I want to give you a surprise present."

4 タペストウリーですか⁉︎ TAPESUTOURII desu ka!? "Is it a tapestry!?"

5 8年前私とAFOの戦いで取れたデータが 8ねんまえわたしとオール・フォー・ワンのたたかいでとれたデータが 8nenmae watashi to OORU FOO WAN no tatakai de toreta DEETA ga "The data obtained during the battle between me and All For One 8 years ago"

6 なんかすごい可能性を広げるモノだったそうだ！なんかすごいかのうせいをひろげるモノだったそうだ！ nanka sugoi kanousei wo hirogeru MONO datta sou da! "seems like it's something that opens up a lot of possibilities!"

7 "個性"の深化と共に "こせい"のしんかとともに "kosei" no shinka to tomo ni "With the strengthening of quirks,"

8 技術もまた深化していくぎじゅつもまたしんかしていく gijutsu mo mata shinka shite iku "technology also strengthens."

9 マルチに個性を使いこなした君で更なるデータを取りたい！マルチにこせいをつかいこなしたきみでさらなるデータをとりたい！ MARUCHI ni kosei wo tsukaikonashita kimi de saranaru DEETA wo toritai! "I want to collect even more data from you as you have mastered using multiple quirks!"

10 え　でもこんな高いモノ… え　でもこんなたかいモノ… e demo konna takai MONO... "Eh? But such an expensive thing..."

11 こいつは海外の友と発目少女の協力こいつはかいがいのともとはつめしょうじょのきょうりょく koitsu wa kaigai no tomo to Hatsume-shoujo no kyouryoku "This one is from cooperation between my friend overseas and Young Hatsume,"

12 そして爆豪少年中心にかつてのA組が共同出資したモノだそしてばくごうしょうねんちゅうしんにかつてのエーぐみがきょうどうしゅっししたモノだ soshite Bakugou-shounen chuushin ni katsute no EE-gumi ga kyoudou shusshi shita MONO da "and it is something that the former Class A jointly invested in with Young Bakugou at the heart of it."

13 バレてるぜ BAREteru ze "You've been found out."

14 まだ身体が動いちまうんだろまだからだがうごいちまうんだろ mada karada ga ugoichimaundaro "Your body is still moving."

1 肝に銘じておきなきもにめいじておきな kimo ni meijite oki na "Take this to heart."

2-3 これも君自身が勝ち取った力だ‼︎ これもきみじしんがかちとったちからだ‼︎ kore mo kimi jishin ga kachitotta chikara da!! "You've earned this power fair and square, too!!" (Note: The above three lines are a reference to chapter 2.)

4 皆といつまでもみんなといつまでも minna to itsumademo WIth everyone, forever...

5 来いこい koi "Come [on],"

6 デク DEKU "Deku." (Note: If you want to get REALLY sentimental, just know that together speech bubbles #5 & #6 make grammatically the exact opposite phrase of what Katsuki said to Izuku in the woods at summer training camp before he disappeared in the portal, which gets translated in English as "Stay back, Deku.")

1 前よりは"暇"って感じかな…！まえよりは"ひま"ってかんじかな…！ mae yori wa "hima" tte kanji ka na...! "It feels like we've got more free time than before...!"

2 星戦道路で崖崩れ交通マヒってますせいせんどうろでがけくずれこうつうマヒってます seisen douro de gake kuzure koutsuu MAHIttemasu "A landslide on Seisen* Road is paralyzing traffic." (*Note: This road's name means literally "Star Wars" in Japanese.)

3 ヒーロー出動お願いします！ヒーローしゅつどうおねがいします！ HIIROO shutsudou onegai shimasu! "Please dispatch heroes!"

4 いつまでも itsumademo ...forever,

tagline 1 No.430　僕のヒーローアカデミア　堀越耕平ナンバー430　ぼくのヒーローアカデミア　ほりこしこうへい NANBAA 430 boku no HIIROO AKADEMIA Horikoshi Kouhei No. 430 My Hero Academia Kouhei Horikoshi

tagline 2 長きに渡るご愛読心よりありがとうございました‼︎堀越先生の次回作にご期待下さい‼︎最終42巻は12月4日（水）発売予定です!!! ながきにわたるごあいどくこころよりありがとうございました‼︎ほりこしせんせいのじかいさくにごきたいください‼︎さいしゅう42かんは12がつ4か（すい）はつばいよていです!!! nagaki ni wataru goaidoku kokoro yori arigatou gozaimashita!! Horikoshi-sensei no jikaisaku ni gokitai kudasai!! saishuu 42kan wa 12gatsu 4ka (sui) hatsubai yotei desu!!! A long-time favorite, thank you very much from the bottom of our hearts!! Please stay tuned for Horikoshi-sensei's next work!! The final 42nd volume is scheduled to be released on Wednesday, December 4th!!!

5 手を差し伸べ続ける物語てをさしのべつづけるものがたり te wo sashinobe tsudzukeru monogatari this is the story of how we keep reaching out our hands.

#my hero academia leak translations #mha 430 #bnha 430 #my hero academia manga spoilers #epilogue arc spoilers #how could i sleep when kacchan is right there waiting for me to cry over him

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museanddream · 1 month

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One Night - part 1 || Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze x Reader

Summary: When you complete a dream transfer to Barcelona, there’s only one problem - you have to learn to coexist with your ex-hookup and her new girlfriend.

Warnings: 🔞 | no actual smut in this chapter but contains references to sex and this is just setup for several parts of pure filth

Word count: 5.4k

It takes you all of about ten seconds on your first day at Barcelona to realise that Ona Batlle and Lucy Bronze are dating.

Strangely, it’s not Lucy who gives it away, but instead the young Spaniard.

You don’t actually know Ona beyond the distant professionalism of two people who have played against each other a handful of times over the years. Lucy, however, is somebody you’re more than acquainted with. Intimately so.

You started sleeping with Lucy a few years ago, during her first spell at City. Lucy was charming, hot and available and you were … well, you were young and horny. It was a mutually convenient agreement until she moved to France and you to Germany, when it became obvious within just a few months that a casual situationship was much harder to nurture when you lived in different countries. That’s when it fell apart, heated words fired from both sides then radio silence as if you’d never even known each other.

You knew you’d have to face up to your past when you signed for Barcelona. Lucy’s been here for a year already, but you don’t say no to a club like Barça, not even when you’ve got history with one of their star defenders.

All you can do when you show up for your first day is hope that you’ve both matured enough to be professional about it.

“I’d heard a rumour you might be coming here.”

Of course you find yourself alone with her in the dressing room pretty much straight away, fresh out of your signing photoshoot. The soft fabric of the blaugrana Barcelona kit feels good against your skin, but you feel anything but comfortable alone with Lucy.

“Back on the same team, huh?” you reply stiffly. “Who’d have thought it?”

“The best team,” Lucy brags.

You’re saved from having to make any more awkward smalltalk with Lucy as the door to the dressing room clatters open.

“Lucy, you left your trainers in the-”

The newcomer, Ona Batlle, stops mid sentence when she notices you, forgetting whatever she was saying so that she can instead greet you with a dazzling smile that knocks the air out of your lungs.

She’s pretty. You’re sure that you must have already known this, you just haven’t had time to properly appreciate it, not when you were playing against her and focused on other things.

“Hi. I’m Ona,” she greets you, letting you introduce yourself in return before she turns her attention back to Lucy. “You left these in the gym. If I’d known I’d be tidying up after you, I’d have stayed in Manchester.”

And that’s when you realise that there’s more to the relationship between Ona and Lucy than just being new teammates. It’s a mixture of things that gives it away, the affectionate tone of Ona’s voice, the familiarity with which she teases Lucy, but mostly the look of absolute adoration in Ona’s eyes as Lucy takes the shoes off her. It’s a look that you recognise, because there was once a time when you probably looked at Lucy with that same expression.

If there was any doubt in your mind, what Ona says next is the final nail in the coffin.

“We should stop for groceries on the way home by the way,” Ona says to Lucy. “We don’t have anything for dinner.”

Home. So it’s serious enough that they’re living together, she’s not just another one of Lucy’s flings.

You were never that serious with Lucy. Aside from occasionally carpooling to training the next day if one of you accidentally fell asleep at the other’s post-hookup, you never reached this level of domesticity.

Lucy mumbles something in agreement, tucking her trainers into the cubby behind her, and soon enough Ona is gone as quickly as she arrived.

Left alone with Lucy again, the atmosphere somehow even more tense than before, the first thing that spills from your lips before you have time to think twice is a joke.

“Bit young for you, isn’t she Luce?”

“I don’t know what you…” Lucy trails off and sighs, probably realising that there’s no point trying to deny anything when you’re going to be sharing a dressing room with her and her new beau and will inevitably learn the truth anyway. “Look, I really like her, okay? It’s real.”

You ignore the heavy implications of Lucy’s words, that what she shared with you all those years ago wasn’t real, for the sake of the harmony of the team you’ve just joined.

“I’m happy for you,” you tell Lucy, not entirely untruthful. You never thought that Lucy would be partnered up when you joined Barcelona, but you definitely didn’t expect any of your old history to be reignited either. It’s been long enough that Lucy is just another teammate, someone you can learn to get along with.

…

You do get along with Lucy, in a kind of amicable yet emotionless way that almost feels like you’ve never played on the same team before, let alone slept together on and off for over a year in your early twenties. It’s purely professional, cordial without getting too close to friendly.

You’re relieved, of course. The last time you encountered Lucy was an international match a couple of years ago, an evening which started with heavy tackles and the two of you earning a yellow card apiece on the pitch and ended with Lucy on her knees between your legs in an empty medical room after the game. It was the last time you saw Lucy, the last time you slept with her, the last time you even spoke to her until you moved to Barcelona.

So you’re glad that you can get along with her, even if you’re still trying to wrap your head around how normal it is to be teammates again after everything.

But somebody you really start to get along with is Ona.

It turns out you have more in common with Ona than just being new signings and finding Lucy Bronze attractive. You bond quickly at training and soon you’re hanging out outside of the training ground, grabbing coffee a couple of times a week and letting Ona show you around the city that has become your new home. Lucy gets invited along once or twice but always manages to find an excuse not to join you - whether Ona knows about your history with Lucy isn’t clear to you and you decide it’s not your place to be the one to tell her.

And that’s how you become good friends with your ex-hookup’s new girlfriend.

You quickly realise exactly what Lucy sees in Ona.

She’s got a personality that matches the Barcelona sunshine, a smile that would charm anybody, and eyes that are so big and perfect you’re not entirely convinced that she wasn’t hand-drawn by a cartoonist.

It’s not a crush, you tell yourself. That would be inappropriate in all sorts of ways. It’s just an appreciation.

One that only grows as the season progresses.

Ona does your hair before a game, putting it into a braid that matches her own, and it quickly becomes a pre-match tradition. You sit on the floor between Ona’s legs while her deft fingers work your scalp and pull strands of hair this way and that and can you really be blamed for the direction your traitorous thoughts threaten to move, especially not when Ona was standing beside you in nothing but a tiny pair of shorts and a sports bra mere moments ago? Now you’re thinking about her abs and her fingers.

She taps your shoulder when she’s done, letting you know that you can stand up, and you make eye contact with Lucy across the dressing room as you get to your feet. Her gaze is intense, not jealous or angry that you’ve become so close to her girlfriend, but there’s something in those familiar eyes that you just can’t place.

Focused on the match ahead, you store that information in the back of your mind for later, but end up forgetting about it altogether.

…

There’s some kind of mix-up in communication that means that Lucy has joined you for one of your usual outings for coffee with Ona. You try to excuse your way out of it, claiming that you don’t want to third-wheel their date, but Ona is too nice and jokes that it’s actually Lucy who is the third wheel, before saying that you can’t back out now.

So that’s how you end up sitting at a table on a terrace outside a quaint little cafe with Lucy. Ona goes inside, having insisted that she’ll buy the coffees, despite your protests that she paid last time and it’s your turn.

“You’ve got a good one there, Luce.”

Lucy grins across at you.

“I know. Always had good taste in women, me.”

It’s … flirty? At least it feels borderline flirtatious, considering your past with Lucy. Then again, Lucy’s always been a little flirty, she just didn’t have a girlfriend the last time she turned her charm on with you all those years ago.

“I just mean, don’t fuck it up with her, that’s all,” you tell Lucy, rolling your eyes.

“You mean like I did with you?”

It’s the first time in the three months since you joined Barcelona that either of you have openly acknowledged what you used to have and you don’t really know how to react. Your policy since joining Barcelona has been to pretend that you and Lucy were never a thing. That’s a lot harder to do when Lucy is reminding you that you were.

“It wasn’t just you who fucked it up,” you reply, avoiding eye contact with Lucy out of fear that looking at her might bring up old attraction. “Anyway, that was different, it wasn’t like what you have with Ona.”

Lucy hums, then says, “Maybe it could’ve been the same. If we hadn’t been so dumb and immature.”

There’s much less room to misinterpret Lucy’s words this time. Here is Lucy, pretty much admitting that she wishes things had gotten more serious with you when she had the chance, while her actual girlfriend, the same person who has been nothing but welcoming and an all round great friend to you since you joined Barcelona, is at the counter inside the coffee shop.

“We were around the same age as Ona when it started,” you point out, hoping that the mention of her girlfriend will snap Lucy back into a reality where she doesn’t feel the need to reminisce over your past.

“Ona…” Lucy glances at Ona through the coffee shop window and her expression softens. “Ona’s got a wise head on her. Plus she’s a hopeless romantic. She’s been all-in since the start. Probably knocked a bit of sense into me too, along the way.”

They’re disgustingly in love with each other and it’s enough to squash any butterflies in your own stomach.

“Like I said, I’m glad you’ve found each other.”

The conversation finishes there as Ona returns with the coffees, setting the tray on the table carefully and passing the drinks around.

“Thanks, Ona. You know, I might steal you away from Lucy if you keep fuelling my caffeine addiction like this.”

You say it as if having a little flirt with Ona somehow makes up for whatever traitorous thoughts you were having about Lucy before Ona returned to the table, but at least the smile that spreads across Ona’s face at your words is enough to smother some of your guilt.

“It’s good to keep Lucy on her toes,” Ona says, raising her eyebrows at you like she’s letting you in on an inside joke. “And she’s always saying how much she likes a competition.”

Lucy stirs her own coffee, then sets her spoon down as she leans back casually in her chair as if completely unbothered by the thought of having to fight you for Ona’s attention.

“Yeah,” she says with a shrug. “And I always win.”

…

You’ve always liked away games. Especially now, in a new league. New teams to play against, new cities to visit. And you quickly get used to the expectations that Barça has for its players on away trips.

The main one is the rooming rules. Couples don’t share, you learn that quickly, and also notice that everybody seems to accept that rule. You’ve been on teams before where that’s been an official rule, but teammates have made arrangements between themselves to trade with each other to share with their partner instead. That’s not the case at Barcelona.

The other thing is that while there are some players who mostly seem to always share with each other, there seems to be a deliberate effort to rotate room pairings for the newer signings as they integrate with their new teammates. You’re with Esmee for the first trip, which is a relief to you both as neither of you speaks a word of Spanish yet, then with Ingrid who is just as friendly, having been a new signing herself only a couple of years ago.

You never share with Lucy. Part of you wonders if she’s put in a deliberate request to whoever organises the hotels that sharing with you is just as off-limits to her as sharing with Ona would be, but you’re grateful for it. Though it’s no longer as weird between you, sharing a room with her seems like a step too far right now.

It takes four months at Barça before you room with Ona for the first time, for two nights on a Champions League away fixture in Sweden. The first night is quiet and focused, you talk through some of the tactics from the earlier training session together before getting an early night.

But the second night, after winning the game, there’s a knock on the door when you’re getting ready for bed.

You probably shouldn’t be surprised when you open the door and find Lucy standing outside, given that she’s your roommate’s girlfriend, but you forget that for a moment until Lucy speaks.

“Hey. Is Ona here? Just wanted to say goodnight.”

You blink yourself out of your surprise, then gesture at the closed door to the en-suite bathroom.

“She’s just in there.”

“Can I wait?” Lucy asks.

You hesitate for just a moment, then step aside to let her in.

“Sure.”

Lucy enters the room and you close the door behind her. When you turn around, she’s taken a seat on the end of your bed.

“Uh, that‘s Ona’s bed,” you tell her, pointing at the other bed.

“Oh. Shit, sorry.”

Lucy moves to the other bed, but still sits on it just as awkwardly as she sat on yours. Though it’s mostly normal between you and Lucy these days, when it’s just the two of you, you sometimes remember the way things used to be.

And then you remember that it’s not like that anymore.

“Remember when we used to sneak into each other’s rooms at City?” Lucy asks, with a low chuckle. Apparently she’s reminiscing over the past too.

You glance towards the bathroom, wondering if Lucy is really trying to remind you of the late night trysts you used to have at away games while her actual girlfriend is on the other side of the door.

“Is that your way of hinting at me to piss off and leave you alone with your girlfriend?” you ask her drily, arching an eyebrow as you plug your phone in to charge on the nightstand.

“Nah, it’s against the rules, innit.”

“It was against the rules at City too,” you remind her.

“Yeah, but that’s what made it exciting.” Lucy’s green eyes are alight with mischief, and your stomach does a little flip as you remember the thrill of trying to hook up with Lucy at any available moment without getting caught by teammates or coaches.

And then you feel guilty. Because this is another conversation with Lucy that borders on flirtatious, another split second where you forget she’s in a relationship and are transported right back to when she used to want you.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, the bathroom lock clicks and the door swings open. Something shifts in the air between you and Lucy as Ona steps out, hair falling in pretty waves over her shoulders. Her brown eyes light up with pure joy and adoration when she spots Lucy sitting on her bed.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” Ona teases Lucy.

“I’m not staying,” replies Lucy. “Just wanted to drop by and say goodnight.”

An uneasy feeling settles in your stomach and you’re not sure if it’s because they’re so horribly in love with each other that it’s making you nauseous, or if it’s a lingering guilt that Ona has no idea you and Lucy were just talking about your heated past. Either way, you feel like you’re intruding on something you shouldn’t be here for, making a mumbled excuse about giving them a moment and take yourself into the bathroom.

It’s only when the door is locked behind you that you realise you’re now trapped in the bathroom, while they’re saying goodnight to each other in god knows what sort of way.

You press your ear to the door, then jerk away as if the wood is scalding hot when you realise what you’re doing. If they’re talking, it’s not your place to eavesdrop. And if they’re doing anything else…

Your cheeks burn hot at the idea. Surely they wouldn’t? Not while you’re in the bathroom. But they had been so enamoured by each other that you’re not even sure if they noticed you slip away.

You think back to your situationship with Lucy all those years ago. She always had an incredible knack for getting you naked in record time and somehow, you really doubt that she’s lost any of that charm since then.

What if they get carried away with their goodnight wishes and you’re stuck in here all night?

You don’t know how long you’re left wallowing in your own anguish in the bathroom, it could be anywhere from three minutes to three days, but eventually there’s a knock on the door, which is followed by Ona calling your name. You flick the lock then open the door, relieved to find Ona still fully dressed in her pyjamas and now alone in the room again.

“You okay?” she asks. “You were quiet in there. Not that I was listening! Just that you were in there a while and … and I didn’t hear the toilet flush or anything.”

Ona is exceptionally cute when she’s flustered.

“I just didn’t want to get in you and Lucy’s way.”

For just a second, Ona looks like she wants to say something, but she holds it back and the moment passes. Soon you’re each lying in your own bed, the lights off as you settle down for the night.

Sleep feels a whole universe away. Maybe you’re imagining it, but you think you can still smell Lucy‘s perfume lingering in the room. The air somehow feels even thicker than it did when Lucy was here. You can hear every movement from the other side of the room, every shift of the bedsheets, every breath that Ona takes, like it’s being amplified through a speaker.

“I know about you and Lucy.” Ona’s low voice eventually penetrates the darkness. “What you used to have. Lucy told me a while ago.”

That’s - well, it’s not what you’re expecting her to suddenly admit. You’re grateful that the lights are off, saving you from having to twist your expression into something neutral.

“It didn’t mean anything. It was just a bit of fun. It was never anything serious.”

You hear Ona’s chuckle rise up from the other bed.

“I know. She told me everything. I’m not jealous. That was way before I knew either of you. Anyway, it makes sense.”

“It does?” you ask.

“Yeah. I like you both. Makes sense you’d like each other too.” There’s a pause, then she adds, “Also you’re both hot.”

Not for the first time, you wonder if everything that’s happened since you joined Barcelona has been some kind of bizarre dream, because there’s no version of normal that includes your ex-hookup’s new girlfriend implying she thinks you’re attractive in the middle of the night on an away trip.

You don’t really know how you’re supposed to reply.

“Uh, thanks.”

Ona continues, “I’m telling you I know just because I’ve noticed you’re a bit weird around Lucy sometimes, so I just want you to know it’s fine with me if you two want to hang out.”

You wonder if Ona would still be fine with it if she knew that you and Lucy have almost flirted with each other twice now. Your cheeks heat up at the thought and you’re glad for the darkness that hides your flush from Ona.

“Maybe we could all hang out together sometime?” Ona suggests, oblivious to your turmoil.

“Oh, I don’t know if…”

“We could have a movie night,” Ona suggests, ignoring your attempts at declining the offer. “At our place. It’d be fun!”

It’s such a typically Ona suggestion. Because Ona is sweet and kind and of course she wants to do everything she can to make sure that her friend gets along with her girlfriend without any awkwardness. There’s not a bone in Ona’s body that would even consider the possibility of being jealous of the fact that you and Lucy used to sleep with each other.

And so in that moment, staring up at the ceiling in a hotel room in Sweden, you vow to never let yourself have a private conversation with Lucy again that’s about anything other than football, to never let Lucy flirt with you or the idea of flirting with Lucy back cross your mind, and to definitely never reminisce about Lucy when your hand is between your legs.

…

You don’t manage to talk your way out of going to Ona’s planned movie night, though if you’re completely honest, you don’t try too hard.

When you arrive at their apartment, it’s Lucy who opens the door and you have a brief moment of panic that she doesn’t actually want you here. But you’re quickly reassured by the way she steps aside to let you in and greets you with a mumbled “Alright?”

“Nice place you’ve got here,” you comment to fill the silence, as Lucy leads you through the apartment to the living room.

“Thanks.”

You sit down in the single armchair, leaving the couch for Lucy and Ona to share. There’s no sign of Ona yet and Lucy doesn’t sit down, instead hovering awkwardly by the door, glancing over her shoulder every two seconds as if looking to see if Ona is joining you.

“I know this was Ona’s idea but if it’s weird I can just go,” you pipe up, wondering if it’s really that awful for Lucy to be alone with you that she needs her girlfriend as a buffer.

“No,” Lucy says decisively. “It was both our ideas. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you too.”

Finally, to the relief of both of you, you hear bare feet pattering down the hallway from one of the other rooms and Ona appears in the doorway. She smiles warmly at Lucy, brushing her fingers against Lucy’s hand as she passes in a gesture that feels far too intimate for you to witness, then grins at you.

“Hi! You came!”

Ona sounds genuinely surprised, like she half-expected you to not turn up, and maybe you haven’t been as good as you thought you were at pretending your relationship with Lucy is one between two normal teammates if Ona was worried that you might bail on a movie night just because Lucy would be there too.

“Of course,” you say, as you try to relax back in your armchair as Lucy and Ona sit down at opposite ends of the sofa. “So, have you already picked out a movie?”

“A movie?” Lucy asks. Confusion briefly flashes across her face, but then it settles into realisation as she turns to Ona and repeats, “A movie.”

A tiny smirk graces Ona’s lips as she shrugs and says, “What? You told me to get her here. You didn’t say how.”

Lucy seems equal parts annoyed and amused - about what you’re not exactly sure - as she says, “I thought you’d do some of the explaining instead of leaving it all to me.”

It’s your turn to be confused.

“So we’re not watching a movie then?” you ask slowly, your eyes flitting between the two of them as you wait for an answer.

Silence hangs between the three of you, Lucy and Ona apparently both waiting for the other to say something, before Lucy rolls her eyes and takes control.

“Listen, here’s the deal,” she starts to explain, leaning forwards slightly in her seat. “I told Ona about our past as soon as you signed for Barça and she found it pretty amusing. Soon she was asking more questions about … well, about you and us, I’m sure you get the picture.”

Still trying to figure out what this has got to do with a movie night, you say, “I don’t think I do.”

Lucy lets out a groan.

“Jesus, am I gonna have to spell it out? She wanted to know what it was like to ‘be with you’ -” Lucy throws up some exaggerated air quotes with her hands, rolling her eyes again along with her words. “So I told her. Well, actually I told her that if she wanted to know what it was like then she should just sleep with you herself. Was joking, of course, but it turns out Ona’s really into that idea, actually.”

Your eyes flicker across to Ona, whose cheeks are tinged a pretty shade of pink and eyes are wide with a mixture of worry and expectation as she waits for your response.

Turning back to Lucy, you ask, “So you’ve invited me over to fuck your girlfriend?”

Lucy nods.

“Well, both of us, if you’re up for it. We figured you and me already had that chemistry and I know you fancy Ona, judging by how often I see you checking her out in the dressing room.”

Your mouth falls open, embarrassed that your staring has been noticed, ready to protest, but they’re both looking at you with more amusement than annoyance.

“Anyway, that’s us,” Lucy finishes. “Ball’s in your court.”

Two pairs of eyes watch you, waiting for your reaction. Lucy almost seems indifferent, settling back in her seat casually as if trying to play it cool, which almost has you wondering if you’ve imagined her just propositioning you for a threesome, if not for the way that one of her fingers taps nervously against her thigh. Ona, on the other hand, looks at you with eyes that are wide and vulnerable, as if the prospect of you turning them down might shatter her heart.

The pieces start to fit together - the tour of cute Barcelona coffee shops from Ona, the occasional flirtatious comments from Lucy. To know that they both want you is flattering. To know that they’ve been talking about this, planning how to get you into their home and their bed, is something that your mind struggles to comprehend.

“It doesn’t have to be tonight,” Ona eventually says. “If you need time to think about it?”

“No, let’s do it.”

Your words are decisive. If you give yourself too long to think about it, you’ll talk yourself out of it and you can’t deny that this is something you want. Maybe you hadn’t imagined that it would end up happening like this, with both of them, but you’ve definitely thought about them. Lucy, and the things she used to do to you, the spark you used to have that still makes the occasional appearance when you least expect it. Ona, and the way her hands feel in your hair when she braids it before a game, the way your stomach churns with butterflies whenever she smiles at you and those perfect eyes look into yours.

To have both of them at the same time is beyond your wildest fantasies.

“Go on,” Lucy says to Ona. “I know you’ve been dying to kiss her for months.”

Your heart rate picks up.

“Yeah?”

Ona counters this by shaking her head.

“Not months. Lucy’s exaggerating.”

“I’m not. She talks about you all the time. About what it’d be like to kiss you, to have you in our bed. And I told her if she was that desperate, she should just go for it. I know you like the direct approach, it worked for me all them years ago. But no. No, Ona wanted to seduce you. Why do you think she’s been taking you on all those coffee dates? She’s been trying to woo you.”

Your ego swells with the knowledge that Ona, beautiful and kind and funny as she is, who has already pretty much hit the relationship jackpot by bagging herself Lucy, has apparently spent months plotting her pursuit of you.

Not that you had any idea. Ona has always strayed onto the affectionate side of friendship whenever you’ve hung out with her. Maybe if she’d been single, you might have picked up on some clues, but you’ve known about her relationship with Lucy since you joined the team and never had any reason to think that Ona’s familiarity with you was down to anything else but the fact that she’s simply Spanish.

You explain this to them.

“I thought she was just being nice.”

Lucy chuckles to herself at this, then says, “Course you did. Sweet little Ona, welcoming you to Barça. Just wait until you find out Little Miss Perfect isn’t so innocent after all.”

If you weren’t already interested, Lucy’s words fill you with intrigue.

“Come here,” you instruct Ona.

Ona glances at Lucy, as if asking for her permission, and Lucy responds by rolling her eyes and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

“Don’t get shy on us now as if this wasn’t your idea in the first place.”

Ona’s cheeks are pink but she pushes up to her feet and crosses over to you. She stops awkwardly in front of you, scratching at a hangnail on her thumb until you reach for her hand and pull her closer, leaving her very little choice but to clamber into your lap.

“You’ve been planning this, huh?” you murmur to her, as if you’re the only two in the room. Your hands find her hips as she settles with a leg on either side of your thighs. “What, Lucy wasn’t enough for you?”

“She is,” Ona says. “But…”

Ona trails off, teeth chewing into her lower lip.

“But what?” You prompt her.

There’s a brief moment where time seems to stand still, except for the visible rise and fall of Ona’s chest as she breathes, then she answers, “But I wanted you too.”

Hearing Ona vocalise her desire for you gives you a rush that comes second only to scoring a goal in a cup final.

It makes you giddy. And you really don’t want to fuck it up, which is why you take a few deep breaths in time with the strokes of your hands up and down Ona’s thighs as you compose yourself before you speak again.

“All those times you took me out for coffee, all the times you translated for me in training or did my hair before a game, you were thinking about this, weren’t you? About having my hands on your body.” You lean closer until your foreheads rest against each other, hot breath mingling in the almost nonexistent gap between your mouths, then whisper, “My lips against your skin.”

Ona tilts her chin up slightly, trying to tempt you into finally closing the gap. When you don’t, she resorts to begging.

“Please.”

“What do you want?” You want to coax it out of her, committing every part of this moment to memory. “Tell me.”

“Kiss me.”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso smut #ona batlle x reader #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze x ona batlle x reader

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goodomensafterdark · 5 months

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Writers Guild Presents - Tethered - Ch 7 - Memories

Big thank you to @gleafer for accepting to let me use this piece as illustration to this chapter! Go support her on Patreon -we promise that your loins will catch on FIRE ;)

Written by NegotiationReal6508 on our subreddit!

Chapter 7 of work in progress

TW/CW: Angst, Discussion of attempted suicide, implied character death, panic attack, some light smut.

Summary:

Crowley wakes up in a mental hospital with no memory of how he got there. Without his demonic powers, neither the doctors, nor the people who claim to be his family will believe he is who he says he is. With the evidence against him mounting, his only lifeline to the real world is a cryptic note left by an unseen messenger. The longer he stays in this hospital, the harder it becomes to recall for sure, is Crowley really a demon of Hell? Or has his entire existence been nothing more than a delusion conjured by a grieving mind?

Excerpt:

Crowley stood in a noisy airport at the arrivals gate holding a bouquet of red roses, fidgeting nervously. All of his usual laidback swagger was buried under a blanket of anxiety, his spine was a solid metal rod. He was always a little bouncy when Aziraphale came to visit, but this time was different. Crowley hopped his feet up and down like the floor was burning hot sand. He juggled the little box in his jacket pocket as he stared at the sliding glass doors, willing the familiar head of blond hair to appear through them. Were the roses too cliché? Maybe he should have gotten the peonies instead. Too late now.

“There, I see him.” Crowley turned to the young man beside him. “Are you recording?”

“Yeah, it's on,” said Adam.

“Right, here he comes.” Crowley shook out his shoulders and trilled his lips. He knew he looked ridiculous, but it was an airport; no one ever looked their best at an airport. He moved towards the beacon that was Aziraphale’s gleaming smile. His heart thudded like hoofbeats in his chest. Breathe, he reminded himself. Breathing and walking, those were the two main requirements at the moment. He had no idea what his facial expression was, he just hoped he was smiling too. God, Aziraphale was so gorgeous, even after eight hours on a plane. How was that even possible?

“Hello, my darling!” Aziraphale greeted him.

“Hi,” said Crowley, because that was about as eloquent as he could manage. He unceremoniously handed the bouquet to Aziraphale.

“Oh my!” Aziraphale chuckled. “Flowers? What's the occasion?”

And there was Crowley’s opening. Aziraphale was reaching out his arms for an embrace but Crowley needed to do what he came to do first. He bent down on one knee, and pulled the little box from his pocket.

Continue reading on AO3

Or start from chapter 1 - Dies Lunae

Special thanks to my beautiful betas: u/KotiasCamorra, u/Paperclip_Ninja

#good omens after dark #goad #good omens #good omens fanfic #writers of after dark #writers guild presents #good omens fanart #artists of after dark

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defectiveporcelaindoll · 2 months

Text

Chapter 1: The Manuscript

“He thought about how they said-

Since she was wise beyond her years everything had been above board. Now he wasn’t sure…”

series masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader

summary: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life.

genre: slow-burn romance?

cw: age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is 24), a couple y/n’s (I’m sorry, I know I’m sick of it too.), fake marriage, possibly eventual smut in later parts we’ll see, female reader she/her pronouns, bad writing! lemme know if I missed anything! And as always, lemme know what you think!

wordcount: 1.3k

“The professor said the write what you know”

Spencer sat at his desk, anxiously scribbling away at a case file that he knew he simply wasn’t ready to hand over just yet. Not ready to let go or say goodbye. The office was deserted with the exception of Emily still fussing around in her office like she always was these days, just like Hotch before her, and Gideon before him. Back in the days when he was the youngest member of the team— god how things had changed.

“Looking backward might be the only way to move forward-”

six months prior:

"Come on, Em. She’s too young. I’d hardly say she has any real-life experience, and as helpful as she’s been, she certainly doesn’t have the field experience. And you want to drop her into an undercover operation at a university thousands of miles away? I just can’t logically wrap my mind around how you think this is our best option,” Spencer sighed, anxiously pacing the length of Emily’s office. Maybe it was the lights, but more likely it was the outlandish plans being laid before him that were bringing on the all-too-familiar throb of a migraine.

Emily cleared her throat, glancing up at Spencer with a tight-lipped, not-quite smile. “If you would let me finish, I wouldn’t be sending her alone. I’d be sending her with you. The unsub—or rather, unsubs—are targeting couples where the man,” she pointed to him, eyes widening as if to say keep up, “in the relationship comes from a position of power above the woman.” She wildly waved her hand toward the door, motioning to the woman sitting just outside the office.

“You’d be posing as a professor, which technically isn’t anything new for you. Though we might have to rub a little dirt on your good name.” She shrugged, glancing back down to shuffle through the pile of files on her desk until she found the one she was looking for, holding it out for Spencer. “A handsome professor and his new, albeit young, ex-TA of a wife... forced to move after your relationship went public. Tragic.” She quirked a brow, offering Spencer a playful smirk. He did not return it, instead rolling his eyes as he thumbed through the file containing what could be his life for the next couple of months.

“Look, if we place you both at the university, she’ll fit in with the students, you’ll fit in with the professors, and now we have eyes and ears everywhere we need them. It’s logical enough, Spencer, and she’s already agreed as long as you’re up for it.”

There was a long pause as Spencer’s mind ran wild, figuring the probability of everything that could and likely would go wrong if he agreed to this plan.

“Look, we’ll even count this towards thirty days of teaching if that sweetens the deal at all?” Prentiss let out an exhausted sigh. Clearly, this was her only option, and everyone else, even the higher-ups, had approved this plan. It all now sat on Spencer’s shoulders. All he needed to do was agree.

“Fine…” he mumbled, his palm digging into his eye socket briefly trying to dull the growing pain behind his eyes. If Prentiss noticed, she chose not to address it. “Great! See, maybe it’ll be good for you? The faculty housing looks nice-ish..? And you’ve gotta admit, Y/N is sweet. I think she’ll learn a lot from you.”

Before Emily could finish her statement, Spencer turned on his heels, stalking out of the Unit Chief's office past the probie, her doe eyes fixed on him like he was a predator. Her gaze startled him in a way that sent him tripping over his own feet. He quickly righted himself, not daring to glance back at the younger agent on his way to the kitchenette.

An hour and several cups of coffee later, Spencer Reid found himself at the round table, sitting perfectly still as his breath caught in his lungs, watching the young woman in front of him sign her name on the dotted line. It’s official; Doctor Spencer Reid is officially a married man—sort of.

It felt so absurd, having to sign a marriage license. Though, logically, he understood. If they were using Spencer’s name and reputation as a backbone for this assignment, there should be a paper trail. At least when it came to this, he knew Penelope could fabricate anything and everything else they might need, but this silly piece of paper, declaring them man and wife—that was free and public information that needed to be real.

“So…” Y/N's voice was soft as it attempted to cut through the heavy weight of the awkward atmosphere. She fidgeted, tapping the pen against the table.

Spencer cleared his throat, eyes raking over her as the voice in his head told him once again that this was an awful idea, that she was too young, that she had no field experience, and there were far too many ways this could all go south. He tried his best to shake them off. “If you don’t mind me asking, I don’t mean this to be rude. I was a young agent—actually one of the youngest agents the BAU has ever had—” he caught himself in his ramble, his eyes searching her face for any kind of discomfort before blinking harder than necessary in an attempt to focus. “Sorry—uh, how old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’ll be twenty-five in October… so twenty-four.”

"Right..." he chuckled, shaking his head, "that means...w-when you were born I already had two PhDs and was nearly finished with my third."

She groaned, a slight blush covering her cheeks as she fought the embarrassed grin threatening to take over her lips. “Doctor Reid—”

“Spencer.” He cut her off, offering a tight-lipped smile. “I—Uh… you can just call me Spencer. I don’t think couples typically use such formality when they’re addressing each other…”

“I guess you’re right,” she said, offering a little nod. “Spencer,” his name felt too personal on her lips, “I—” a rosy blush creeping up her neck as her mind went completely blank, every thought she’d ever had lost in the warm glow of his golden eyes.

As if on cue, Emily entered the room, a smirk on her lips as she observed the younger, seemingly awestruck agent gawking at her favorite genius. “Hope I’m not interrupting, but I thought these might be useful?” She shrugged, placing a velvet box down beside Spencer before sliding the other across the table to fall into the younger woman’s lap. “Congratulations. I now pronounce you man and wife or whatever they say—beware, Penelope is likely going to throw rice or glitter or whatever she found in her desk at you as you walk out of this room. You’ve been warned. And I’d say kiss the bride, but frankly, I don’t want to see that. Wheels up in thirty.”

With that, she offered the new couple a nod before retreating back out of the conference room, back to her office, leaving them to open the velvet boxes. The rings were simple, nothing too flashy, like something you’d expect a professor to be able to afford without breaking the bank.

“Right…” Spencer said, sliding his own ring onto his finger before rising to his feet, his fingers awkwardly clenching and flexing at the unfamiliar weight. “Maybe if we don’t leave together, Garcia won’t ambush us.” He turned towards the door, hesitating a moment to glance back at the woman he could now call his wife. “Unless—unless you’re ready to go… we could, uh, head out together?”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” Y/N nodded quickly, jumping to her feet as she organized the pile of papers back into their folders and into her bag. She crossed the room, stopping beside Spencer. She glanced up at him, her own ring feeling heavy on her finger as she hesitantly reached out, offering him her hand. He looked at her for a moment, his eyes going back and forth between her waiting palm and her eyes before reluctantly accepting the offer.

“Shall we, Mrs. Reid?”

“Now and then he re-reads the manuscript. Of the entire torrid affair~”

Chapter II: Guilty as Sin

Thanks for being interested in my silly little concept 🩵

@flowerpott1978 @olives-and-sunshine

#mgg #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds evolution #spencer reid imagine #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction

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callsigns-haze · 21 days

Text

His Shadow: The beginning

This Is Chapter 1 (masterlist)

Azriel, secretly juggling his responsibilities and personal life, maintains a hidden relationship with YN, who works at a pleasure house in the Hewn City. She was his light, his love, his passion. Yet being his darkest secret is a hard role because life in the Hewn as a young female isn't the easiest as the two of you hold an even dark secret yet to be told...

Pairing: Azriel x reader

This series contains mature themes: Explicit depictions of violence, including physical and emotional. Themes of secrecy. Descriptions of difficult relationships, including strained familial and romantic dynamics. Mature sexual content. Themes of power, control, and manipulation within complex interpersonal relationships. Discussions of parenthood and the challenges associated with it, including postpartum experiences.

The Inner Circle noticed the change in Azriel almost immediately.

It started subtly. A missed meeting here, a late arrival there. At first, they chalked it up to his duties as the spymaster, knowing full well how deeply he was entangled in the shadows of Velaris and beyond. But as the days turned into weeks, Azriel’s absences grew more frequent, his presence more elusive.

Cassian was the first to voice his concern. “Anyone else noticed how Azriel’s been… disappearing?” he asked, frowning over the rim of his glass. They were gathered in the River House, the warmth of the hearth doing little to dispel the chill that had settled in the room.

Rhysand exchanged a glance with Feyre, his brow furrowed. “I’ve noticed,” he admitted. “But every time I reach out through the daemati, he’s always quick to assure me everything is fine. He’s been more secretive than usual, though.”

Mor, who had been unusually quiet, leaned forward, her eyes shadowed with worry. “I tried to ask him directly last week. He brushed me off, said it was nothing, just more work than usual. But… he looked exhausted, Rhys.”

It was true. When they did see Azriel, it was only for brief moments. He’d sweep in, dark circles under his eyes, his normally impeccable leathers rumpled as if he’d been up all night. He would give them a tight smile, exchange a few clipped words or go to his nephews, and then vanish again into the night. Even his shadows seemed quieter, more subdued, clinging to him like they too were weighed down by something unseen.

Feyre couldn’t shake the image of Azriel from her mind—the way he’d barely touched his food the last time they’d all sat down to dinner together, the way he’d flinched when Mor tried to touch his arm. There was something wrong, something deeply troubling, and it gnawed at her.

“I don’t like this,” Feyre said softly, her hand resting on the swell of her abdomen. “Azriel never lies to us, but it feels like he’s hiding something. Something big.”

Cassian’s hand clenched into a fist. “I’m going to drag him here if I have to. We need answers.”

But when Cassian did confront Azriel, it was like trying to catch smoke. The spymaster simply shrugged him off, his face impassive, his hazel eyes cold. “I’m fine, Cass. Just busy.”

“You look like death warmed over, Az. What’s going on?” Cassian pressed, frustration bleeding into his voice.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, shadows curling protectively around him. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

And that was the end of it. No matter how much Cassian prodded, how much Mor pleaded, how much Rhys tried to subtly pry into his mind, Azriel remained a stone wall. Implacable. Unyielding. Denying every question with the same cold, tired detachment.

It wasn’t until one particularly stormy night that Feyre finally cornered him. Azriel had returned to the River House, drenched from the rain, his normally sharp wings drooping with fatigue. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his face gaunt, his eyes haunted.

Feyre intercepted him at the door, blocking his path with her small frame. “Azriel,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. “We need to talk.”

He looked at her, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes—something like guilt, or maybe fear. But then it was gone, replaced by that cold, impenetrable mask. “There’s nothing to talk about, Feyre.”

She didn’t move. “Please, Az. We’re all worried about you. You’re hiding something, and it’s tearing you apart. Let us help.”

For a long, tense moment, he simply stared at her, the rain dripping from his hair onto the polished floor. Feyre held her breath, praying he would open up, let her in, let someone in. But then his shoulders slumped, and he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Feyre. But I can’t. Not yet.”

And with that, he slipped past her, leaving her standing in the doorway, her heart heavy with a growing dread.

Whatever Azriel was hiding, it was tearing him apart. And if he didn’t let them in soon, Feyre feared it would destroy him.

The Inner Circle was united in their concern, but despite their best efforts, Azriel remained a ghost in their lives, always on the periphery, always slipping through their fingers.

It was Rhys who finally voiced what they were all thinking, his voice a low, worried murmur as they gathered in the dim light of the sitting room. “Whatever it is… it’s only a matter of time before it comes crashing down on him. And when it does, he'll open.”

They nodded in agreement, but a shared, unspoken fear hung heavy in the air: would Azriel let them catch him when he finally fell?

---

Dinner at the River House was usually a time of comfort and camaraderie, a rare moment when the Inner Circle could gather without the weight of the world pressing down on their shoulders. But tonight, the atmosphere was tense, the usual warmth replaced by a cold, uneasy silence. The kids played outside as the adults sat.

Azriel sat at the far end of the table, his plate barely touched. He pushed the food around absently, his mind clearly elsewhere. His face was shadowed, his eyes distant, and the weariness that had been growing in him for weeks was more pronounced than ever.

Feyre noticed the way his gaze flicked to the windows, as if he was counting the minutes until he could leave. Cassian and Mor exchanged worried glances, and Rhysand’s brows drew together in a frown.

They all felt it—the growing distance, the secrets he was keeping. But tonight wasn’t the night to push him further. Not when he looked so close to breaking.

“Azriel,” Feyre said gently as the meal drew to a close, “You barely ate. Are you sure you’re all right?”

Azriel looked up, his expression neutral but his eyes giving away his exhaustion. “I’m fine, Feyre. Just tired.”

Cassian opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Azriel stood, the movement abrupt. “I need to go,” he muttered, already turning toward the door. “There’s something I need to take care of.”

“Az—” Rhysand started, but Azriel was already halfway out of the room.

“Goodnight,” Azriel tossed over his shoulder, his voice a distant echo as he disappeared into the night, leaving the Inner Circle staring after him in stunned silence.

Outside, the cool night air hit him like a wave, clearing some of the fog from his mind. Without pausing, Azriel unfurled his wings and launched himself into the sky, the wind whipping through his hair as he flew faster, higher, needing to escape the concerned looks, the unspoken questions, the suffocating worry.

He flew over the glittering city of Velaris, its lights twinkling like stars reflected in the Sidra River. But he didn’t linger. He angled his wings and veered away, heading towards the mountains, towards the darkness that loomed just beyond the city’s borders.

The Hewn City was a stark contrast to Velaris, a place where shadows reigned and light was a rare commodity. Even from the sky, Azriel could feel the oppressive weight of the city, the malice that seeped from its very stones. But he didn’t hesitate. He descended into one of the darker parts of the city, where the narrow alleys were shrouded in perpetual twilight, where even the bravest of souls dared not tread.

Azriel landed silently in one such alley, the shadows welcoming him as an old friend. He folded his wings and moved quickly, his footsteps barely a whisper on the cobblestones. The buildings here were ancient, their facades cracked and worn, their windows dark and uninviting. But Azriel knew exactly where he was going.

At the end of the alley was a narrow staircase, worn smooth by centuries of use. He climbed it swiftly, his heartbeat quickening with each step. When he reached the top floor, he paused, gathering himself. Then, with a deep breath, he pushed open the door.

The apartment was small, barely more than a single room with a bed pushed against one wall and a fireplace that cast a warm, flickering glow across the space. But to Azriel, it was a sanctuary. A place where the world’s troubles fell away, where he could be someone other than the Spymaster of Night Court.

And there, in the center of the room, was the reason he kept coming back.

YN, his love, his secret, his everything, was standing by the window, bathed in the soft light of the fire. She was smaller than him by far, her frame delicate, her own scars glowing, her features soft and kind in a way that was the exact opposite of the harshness of the world he knew. Her eyes, so full of warmth and love, lit up when she saw him, a smile spreading across her lips.

But there was a reason Azriel had never mentioned her to the Inner Circle, why he kept this part of his life hidden even from those he trusted most. YN worked under one of the pleasure homes in the Hewn City, forced into servitude under the command of the Hewn City’s lords. It was a dark and cruel existence, one that Azriel despised with every fibre of his being.

The idea of the Inner Circle knowing the truth—that the woman he loved was bound to such a place—was unbearable. He had seen too much darkness in his life, and the thought of exposing YN to the judgment, pity, or even the well-intentioned attempts to “rescue” her from that life, filled him with dread.

But here, in the quiet of this small apartment, she wasn’t the servant of cruel masters. She was just YN, the woman who had captured his heart despite everything, who had chosen him despite the four hundred and fifty years that separated them.

And in her arms was their newborn son, Knox, a tiny, perfect symbol of the life they had created together despite the odds.

The infant was only two weeks old, a small bundle of life that had already become Azriel’s anchor. Knox was asleep, his small, peaceful face a reminder of all that was good and pure in the world. Azriel’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of them.

This was why he disappeared every night. This was the secret he guarded so fiercely, the reason for his exhaustion, his distraction. This was the life he had built in the shadows, away from the eyes of the world.

YN walked over to him, her steps light and sure. “You look tired,” she said softly, reaching up to touch his face, her fingers brushing against the dark circles under his eyes.

“I am,” Azriel admitted, his voice rough with emotion. He let her touch ground him, pulling him out of the dark places in his mind and back into the light of her presence. “But seeing you… seeing him… it makes it all worth it.”

YN’s smile was soft, her eyes filled with a love so deep it made his heart ache. “You’re pushing yourself too hard,” she whispered. “I told you that if coming here after work is too much stay in Velaris for the night.”

Azriel closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, savouring the warmth that radiated from her. He knew she was right, but the weight of his responsibilities, the need to protect them, to keep them safe from the dangers he faced daily, made it hard to let go. “I just want to keep you both safe. And need you,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

YN reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, her touch gentle but firm. “You already do,” she whispered against his mouth. “Just being here, being with us… that’s all we need, just as much as you need us.”

Azriel wrapped his arms around her, careful not to disturb Knox, who slept on, blissfully unaware of the world’s troubles. He held them both close, feeling the tension that had been coiled inside him begin to unravel. In this small, hidden room, in the arms of the woman he loved and with his son safe in her embrace, Azriel finally allowed himself to breathe.

For now, the shadows could wait. Here, in the warmth of their love, he was home. And this home is just the beginning of their secrets...

Let me know if you'd wish to be tagged! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated!

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel spymaster #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel imagine #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #az

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troublesh00terfaery · 3 months

Text

BELOW 18 PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. THIS WORK IS NSFW! KEEP OUT! [THIS WORK IS PURELY FICTION]

[Alhaitham x AFAB! Reader]

Words: 3,003 Synopsis: In the heart of Sumeru, thrives the peaceful and unique kingdom to which governed by the monarchy. A young prince experiences a strange succession of dreams to which a mysterious woman comforts him. Wouldn't it be delightful to make this dreams into a reality? Tags: AFAB! Reader, slight teasing, Prince! Alhaitham x Goddess Reader. Pronouns for AFAB reader are she/her. Alhaitham slightly obsessed with you. So far, this will be main tags, more will be added on the following chapters. A/N: after a year of not posting, I AM BACK! AND YES, WITH MORE WORKS. I PROMISE I PROMISE! This idea has been in my head for quite sometime and I personally think you guys will be enjoying this. Should I make a series for the Sumeru men? Prolly. ALSO I DID NOT PROOFREAD THIS SO APOLOGIES, ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE. -Circe,xoxo. <3

FOLLOWING, REBLOGGING, INTERACTIONS, AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED

"My Lord, the scrolls have arrived." One of the scribes of the King arrived, offer him a handful of nicely kept scrolls.

For the past three months, Alhaitham has kept himself confined by the study. The setting filled with scrolls of knowledges, as if he tried to absorb every detail he was trying to comprehend. He only replied with a nod and took the scrolls and placed it by the table.

Alhaitham was the only son in line to the throne and he was no ordinary prince. With his knowledge and skill, the other neighbouring nations spoke of him warmly, although setting aside his stoic and rather cold demeanour upon interacting.

The past three months, a mysterious woman had appeared in his dreams in successions. Seemingly telling an ode to him but he couldn't remember what it was, only her beautiful face could he remember. Drapped in white linen and surrounded by padisarah flowers, she would comfort him in his serene dreams to only wake up with scrolls beside him and a cold cup of tea.

It haunted him, every move he made and every thought he had, it followed and haunted him. At times he could not sleep and tried his best to decipher what was it about. He would find himself drawing pictures of this mysterious woman to only ruin it, frustrated and convinced himself that it didn't look like her nor it was not her. Questioning his ability for artistic work he had learned.

At first, he was rather indifferent. It didn't bother him about this mysterious yet ethereal looking woman to appear in his dreams once in a while but as it went on oftenly, this somehow awakened something in him. His curiousity has took over him, trying to look for answers. He was not a man of spirituality but as the dreams went on, he had to summon a spiritual leader to interpret his dreams which he rather finds ridiculous. He was afterall, programmed with knowledge, rational, and logical thinking and approach.

But it did not help him at all, his curiosity grew and grew for this woman in his dreams. At some point, he would forcefully make himself fall asleep to see her again and promised to ever probe her, but her could not dream of her. Thus, he concluded that she would only appear in his dreams when it's: 1) it's night, and 2) when he doesn't force himself to fall asleep.

He wasn't a believer of such. In fact, as the dreams came in successions, he was concluding that he was either sick in the head or he lacked sleep. Given in his work focused nature, he deduct the idea that we was just lacking sleep but somehow, it made him rather stuck in a same routine where he longed for this mysterious woman in his dreams. Who was this woman? What did she mean? Was she real? What is she even?

Of course you were real, in fact, appearing in his dreams was not coincidence. You were indeed a living being, but not an ordinary one. Hindered from the advancement of Sumeru, lies your monastery filled with padisarahs and gold entombed monuments you refuse to leave for it is a sanctuary you have cultivated. It is true to what they say, the Sumeru has still secrets to be revealed, and you were one of the secrets yet to be come upon.

The dreams the prince set genesis when he stumbled upon an old scroll he found during the expedition a month prior his dreams. It was a shabby ancient scroll he found in a mausoleum to expand their territories in the vast lands of the sands. This way, they could keep a hold of the expanding group of eremites and their illegal trading and activities, as per the orders of the king himself to his only successor to the throne.

At first, he didn't pay much attention to the scroll as according to Alhaitham, it wasn't something he nor scribes comprehend. Although a shaman suggested this could be an ancient text telling a story of a goddess who secluded herself from the world. To his prior knowledge, Alhaitham considered the idea rather off. He digressed the notion of a goddess secluding herself from the world. Why would this goddess even seclude herself?

"Are you certain of this?" he asked the shaman, as if questioning the capabilities of the elder.

"That is for you to find out, your highness." the shaman replied.

Ridiculous. Alhaitham thought. He has never heard the tales of this mysterious divine being, nor was taught to him.

Unbeknownst to him, this would eventually trigger a response from you. You could hear his curiosity from a radius away and found it rather amusing. It didn't bother you that nobody prayed for you nor called out for refuge in your arms but this man has had you delighted. Is this an acknowledgment from a being the gods were referring to?

His growing curiosity was getting louder that you had to appear in his dreams. It was mere simple dreams, you appearing and observing him from a far, to showing him your small abode, to entertaining him by playing an instrument as he watched from a close distant.

And it got to the point that you teased the poor scribe by planting a small kiss on his lips. Upon breaking the kiss, he could only stare at you with feverish desire. His colorful eyes looking answers as you cupped his cheeks and feel his strong jaws clenching, urging himself to stop. He returned the favor by brushing his thumb to your luscious and plump lips, grazing his nose bridge by your supple cheeks and leaving kisses and hushed breaths. His palms making its way to your waist, as if trying to remember every detail he could remember. You let him, of course. Everything was new to you, the feeling of intimacy and the warmth of his touch would surge an unexplainable excitement to you. Something you lacked for years and something you, unexpectedly, found a need.

"Please, tell me who you really are and I would search for you in every nation." he begged, his head resting by your shoulder, seeking for both solace and answers as he left kisses over your exposed collar and neck.

You could only reply with a soft chuckle and cup his cheek and pecked a kiss on his cheek. It's a never ending question left unanswered. It was a cue to stop the dream and awaken him from his slumber. A kiss that would blur his vision and awaken him from his dream.

Even if it was only a dream in his point of view, he was still in your domain. Everything was real and it was beyond scientific explanation to prove that every time he was dreaming, everything was happening was happening in your domain. But could he really comprehend and figure out it was the goddess he denied of existence?

"Your grace, your father has called for you." a scribe entered his study, to find Alhaitham lazily looking by the painted ceiling. Seemingly awoken by the morning breeze of the open space of his chambers. The smell of incense from last night was freshly burnt out and the hues of the sunlight passing through the long curtains.

He tilted his head and responded with a nod. Few moments has passed, the prince presented himself to the king. Surprisingly, the king thought it would have been another day to nag the prince to get out of his chambers but there he was, walking towards the king in his seat.

"Father," he greeted.

"Ah yes, son." he spoke, delighted with the presence. Alongside the king was their pet, a Rishbolan tiger, Jihan, to which Alhaitham smiled as the big feline nudged its head to his legs before positioning itself beside Alhaitham.

"How was your night?"

Alhaitham could only remember your face and your soft chuckle. It took a moment before he could respond in his usual laidback demeanor.

"Nothing special." he replied. "You called?"

The king wasn't new to his straightforwardness and thus explained to him. A mysterious woman was spotted near the Vissudha expansion. The king explained to him that the guards spotted the woman just a few meters away from the construction the king has started two years ago. The woman was reported to be rather composed, explaining as to why she freely roamed the ungoing site. The site itself was dangerous, filled with wild beasts and noxious florals thus the only personnel allowed within the Vissudha expansion were architects and members of the royal committee.

"Oh." Alhaitham nodded to his father's story.

"The guards and the look outs commented on her knowledge with the terrains around Sumeru." the king replied. "So they brought her here."

"She's rather adventurous for exploring the area." Alhaitham circled the study table of his father before he comfortably sat by the sofa.

"Dare I must say, but her extensive knowledge with the sands is quite admirable."

"Oh?"

"Yes, in fact, I had spoken a few words with the young woman." The king chuckled, amused. "She's quite brilliant, suggesting a further expansion by the sands. Especially the mausoleums!"

Alhaitham could only respond with a hum. Seems like the women in Sumeru are rather peculiar for roaming carelessly, he thought.

"If I can guess, she's at your age or probably younger. Must have come from a noble family, and archons, her beauty is otherwordly!"

At his age, Alhaitham isn't new to his father's suggestion of him marrying. He was at the age, it is just that his son didn't pay attention and put the importance of it at this moment. He knows it so well that his father would insist upon meeting this woman and thus readied himself by rejecting his father's notion.

"You should meet her."

"No," he replied. "I have scrolls to keep and manage, father." he stood up, Jihad yawned from his action, causing for the feline to stand up and flex its body before nudging and circled the prince. "Jihad…"

The feline responded with succession of chuffs.

"No, no, guards please escort the young lady." the king hurriedly instructed, halting the young prince from walking away. The young prince heaved a sigh, and sat back by the wide sofa once again. This time, Jihad had placed himself by his lap and offed himself to his usual sleep.

The king himself was delighted to see the prince not walking away thus, became slowly impatient to introduce this lady and a few moments has passed, the guards themselves arrived by the king's chambers. Accompanying this said lady to meet the prince.

Each tick of the time, Alhaitham grew impatient with the little meet and greet. He angled his face to towards the curtains, he rubbed his forehead using his middle finger and his index finger whilst his thumb rested on the temple of his forehead. His other hand rested by the felines body to which Jihad appreciated by chuffing.

This was a waste of time, according to Alhaitham. He wasn't aware his father was a matchmaker, so eager to get his only son to be wed. The thought of being married has Alhaitham furrowing his brows.

"Ah, Alhaitham, come meet the young lady." The king softly spoke. Alhaitham could hear his positive remarks to this young lady to which she replied in small and shy chuckles. If he was to judge her, he would find her peculiar and mindless for roaming the area alone. Who on earth would walk alone confidently in an area yet to be finished with construction and still to be tamed?

"Father, I do not have time for this discussion you are initiating--"

"It is an honor, to finally meet the prince." the young lady spoke.

He took a peek from his fingers to have a view of the lady just a few meters away from him. And there she stood, wearing a simple white clothing and a scarf that was loosely wrapped around her hair, a few loose strands of her hair swayed by the wind.

Eyes matching the gaze of the royal prince, a small smile forming in your lips. Upon having a clear view of you, Alhaitham realized what was in front of him. Dumbfounded and speechless, he slowly stood up and awoken the tiger that comfortably laid himself by his lap. Jihad yawned and chuffed, excusing himself by jumping just below the luxurious sofa.

All he could do was to stand there and thought to himself this must be an illusion, or one of his dreams. Silence enveloped the study of the king as he observed you gaze at him with those beautiful yet studious eyes. It's like he couldn't decipher if it was truly you in his dreams or a different person.

There you were, standing in your corporeal form but nothing changed, only the clothing of choice. Ever so radiant, ever so ethereal. The prince couldn't utter any words as he was dumbfounded by the person in front of him. Was his head playing tricks with him? Probably the light? With every inhale an exhale you did, it was proof of life that you were indeed real. After nights of longing for you, you were finally here. In his reality.

Truth be told, this wasn't a scheme you would normally do. Why would a goddess, who voluntarily secluded herself from the world to live in her curated domain, leave her sanctuary? But oh, maybe it was his effect on you? Something finally ignited your curiosity from the outside world. A prince, a brilliant and handsome one.

The king was rather amused with the reaction of his son as he slowly approached you but then halted, as if doubting your existence again.

"Ah, seems like the prince is astonished by your beauty, my dear lady."

The warmth of the king only made you smile as you gazed at Alhaitham. He on the other hand somehow doubted every inch of life in you thus his brows furrowed. The king was indeed right, Alhaitham couldn't deny the beauty in you. You radiated of something out of this world, a beauty that could make a man lose his mind. Lethal, he would call it.

"They were right, your highness." you spoke. "He was indeed a beautiful prince."

Alhaitham stood there, ready to speak.

"Where did you come from?"

That was rather an unexpected question, you thought.

"I was just roaming around the area because I heard there was a constructio--"

"I am asking where are you from." His tone was stern but calm, probing the situation more.

You wouldn't tell him of your sanctuary. It would be ridiculous and of course, it was a secret.

"I came from the desert."

"Which part of the desert exactly?"

"Hadramaveth."

"Ridiculous, that area is out of the reach of the palace nor the council."

"Well I suppose you should widen your expansion within the desert." you replied with a monotone. "After all, the king mentioned you have an ongoing expedition, why not discover it yourself."

He could only stare at your answers, his hawk-like gaze observing you as if he was to judge you of your being. You actually forgot to distinguish whether this was his usual attitude compared to his demeanor during his dreams.

"That area of the desert is out of reach because of its harsh desert." he crossed his arms. "It is an untamed land filled with sandworms and consecrated beasts."

The probing session awakened Jihad whom approached his prince, slowly circling him.

"Well indeed, your grace." you replied. "But there is an area where humans can live, just the passage between Hadramaveth and the Tanit camps."

"To which the eremites occupy." he rebuked. "So, you are an eremite then?"

"No, of course not." the question made you furrow your brows.

"Then answer my question, where are you from?"

The king felt the tension between the two of you. You initially thought that he was going to be delighted to see you in your human form instead of his dreams. But here he is, questioning you. A human, questioning you.

"Now, now, Alhaitham." the king awkwardly chuckled, stepping in. "I think you are scaring the young lady. She offered help to navigate the sands."

"I already sent my men, no need for navigation." Alhaitham looked at his father.

"Your men are headed the wrong direction," you replied. "They're still at the mausoleums."

"And how do you know this? Are you certain they're my men? What mausoleum are you referring to?"

Well, shoot. Of course you couldn't tell him that you can just see everything in a snap. That would ruin your plan. Think. Think. Think.

Now you were certain this was a bad idea, you should've just shut yourself inside that sanctuary of your comfort instead of feeding this man of his wants. What is he up to anyway? You scolded yourself.

"Your highness--"

"That's enough. Guards, please escort this young lady to her quarters." the king sighed.

"No, father. She will be accompanying me in my study." Alhaitham turned his back, walking away and his tiger following along. "She'll have to map the desert out."

You stood there, dumbfounded. This was different man, a different man in his dreams. Where was the man who would look at you with those longing eyes despite being close together? Where was that man who would listen to you play the harp and smile as your grazed your fingers through the strings? Where was the man who would ask for your touch and comfort? Where was he?

You couldn't move from the unexpected reaction from him. Was he not content of seeing you? The silence enveloped and only the heave of the king snapped you back from the heavy thought. Alhaitham stopped as he noticed you were not tagging along.

"Come," he looked back with those stoic eyes.

What an unexpected turn of events.

A/N: FOLLOWING, REBLOGGING, INTERACTIONS, AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED! Make sure to follow the first hashtag #Circeworks୨୧ to be updated with my future works! Happy reading faes!

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helen-with-an-a · 6 months

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I am an adult

Hi. So, this is an idea that I've been working on. I hope you enjoy it. <3

Barca Femeni x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Epilogue

Word Count: 3.4k

Description: R is tired of being treated like a child

Being the youngest in the club by quite some years when you first join the club is hard. You were 15 when you put pen to paper, debuting for your national team at 16. You automatically inherited about 40 big sisters at club and country, with all their wisdom, love, and overprotectiveness. It was adorable … at first. You couldn’t fault them for their heart. You knew they meant well. But you were ready to strangle them by the time you turned 18. You had been given offers from all over the world as your contract ended. It was a difficult choice to leave your team; most of them you considered family. But it wasn’t a difficult choice to sign for Barcelona.

You had hoped that as you left your home and started a new chapter in life, you could prove that you weren’t a child anymore. But it quickly became apparent that that wasn’t the case. Alexia hovered, Lucy fussed, Marta fretted, and Irene worried. You had originally moved in with Alexia, which was lovely initially. She helped you organise the parts of your life that were new to you – organising your weekly shopping list, helping manage your finances, and coordinating your schedules. But as the years went by, you think she forgot that you were no longer the barely legal adult who needed help with many things. You think they all forgot.

The first incident that made you slightly pissed off was in the changing rooms. The music was loud, and you were too busy grinding on Pina to notice the looks from Lucy and Marta. You were celebrating another spectacular win, you scoring a hat trick and Patri and Salma scoring braces. You had taken your sweaty shirt off and swung it around your head as you turned to press yourself against Bruna, all 3 of you laughing as you ran your hands down your body, shaking your hips sensually. As the song ended, you were all in fits of laughter, clutching your stomachs and breathing hard.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” Ona asked, her arms wrapping around your waist as you slung an arm around her shoulders.

“Oh, shut up. You’ve seen me dance plenty of times,” You joked as you kissed her forehead.

“You’ve been out dancing?” Lucy asked. She didn’t like the sound of that. You were too young to go out.

“Yeh, we went out a few weeks ago,” Ona told her.

“Who is we?” Alexia frowned.

“Um … me, Ona, Patri, Pina, Jana, Bruna, Esmee, Aitana,” you rattled off their names, counting them on your fingers as you went. Basically, it was all the young ones who could legally drink. It had been an entertaining night. No one was telling you to calm it down. No one breathed down your neck as you chatted to random strangers. No one was hovering. It was fantastic. You had spent most of the next day with your head over the toilet and feeling very sorry for yourself. But it was worth it. You wouldn’t let them dampen your spirits over that night. Lucy was frowning hard; Alexia also gave an angry glare. “What?” You asked, confused about why you were having disapproving scowls sent your way.

“You’re too young,” Lucy said as she turned away. You huffed, muttering under your breath as you headed to the showers. You were starting to get irritated with their behaviour.

The second time they made you angry was when you stumbled home from a night-in with Pina and Patri. You had chatted away the evening over good food and wine. It was a lovely night, bringing you even closer to the pair of best friends. What you hadn’t been aware of, however, was Lucy and Alexia, and Marta, and Caro, and Paños, and Irene. They all blew up your phone, asking where you were and what you were doing. Alexia had asked Lucy to come over as she noticed you looked a little less like yourself. You were acting short with her, not really acknowledging her when she gave her (unwanted) input on what you were doing and with whom you were doing it. She had hoped that Lucy could help you navigate what was going on. As Alexia opened your bedroom door, without knocking – once again – she was met with a slightly messy but very empty room with a pile of clothes on the floor near the hamper. She must tell you that you need to do your washing.

“Lucy,” Alexia had called out in a panic. You weren’t anywhere else in the house. She didn’t know where you were. She had promised your parents all those years ago that she would look after you. “She’s gone. She’s not here. She’s missing. Should we phone the police?” She grew more and more desperate with every passing moment.

“Right. Calm down, alright? She couldn’t have gone far. She can’t drive,” she was wrong – you could drive; you even had your own car, but the older team members refused to let you go anywhere without them or let you behind the wheel if they were in the car. “Let’s check her location, yeh?” You had asked her repeatedly to delete the app from her phone. She had ignored your wishes, telling you that due to your age, someone should always know your whereabouts. “See, she’s at Patri’s. She’s fine.” The pair took calming breaths together. As the hours ticked by and it seemed like you were making no appearance any time soon, more people were called to come and wait for you. First, it was Marta and Caro and then Paños after another hour and finally Irene after another 2. It was 3 am when you stumbled into the house, slightly wine-drunk but more or less sober.

“What time do you call this?” Alexia’s voice called out from the shadows. It was angry; you didn’t need to see her face to know that her signature glare was etched on it.

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d be awake,” you commented, moving into the kitchen and flicking the lights on as you went. You jumped slightly as you were faced with four other women, all of whom were in similar states of anger and disapproval. "Jesus Christ. What did you do? Throw a party or something?”

“A search party more like. You snuck out.” Irene commented, folding her arms over her chest and giving you her best Mum look.

“Is it really sneaking out if I leave through the front door?” you countered, filling a glass with water and looking in the medicine box under the sink. “Do we have any paracetamol?” you asked absentmindedly, not quite realising just how angry the group was.

“Why do you need paracetamol, kid?” Lucy asked, knowing the answer already but not wanting the confirmation.

“Oh, I had a few drinks with Patri and Pina. Wanna have them in my room with some water for tomorrow if I need them,” you said, letting out a small ‘aha’ when you found the medicine you were looking for.

“You’ve been drinking?” Marta screeched.

“Yeh?” You drew out the word, slightly too tipsy for this conversation.

“What? That’s it, you’re grounded. For-” Alexia stormed forwards.

“You can’t ground me, Alexia,” you said incredulously, standing up and facing her. You may be younger, but you were slightly taller than her. “I’m not a child.”

“How da-” she started, raising her voice at you. You held up a hand, cutting her off. You were mightily fed up with her behaviour as of late. You clicked your teeth.

“I’m going to bed.” You sighed, pushing past the group standing in the hallway and stomping up the stairs.

“Don’t you dare slam your-” She shouted but was cut off by a harsh slam.

By the third time, you were ready to scream. Or commit murder. You weren’t too fussed – whichever got them to stop. After the night with Patri and Pina, Alexia tried to ban you from doing anything outside of training. You had raised one eyebrow at her and walked straight out the door. She was shocked, to say the least. Where was this attitude coming from? She had been nothing but nice to you, helping you out when she thought you needed it and offering advice when you looked a little stressed. She had had enough of your door slamming and locking the door. So, she did the only thing she could think of. You walked back into the house with Ona by your side, chatting away about the coffee shop you wanted to try. You could hear the faint whirring of power tools coming from upstairs. It was a known fact that Alexia hated building flat-pack furniture, so you went to investigate – beckoning for Ona to follow, thinking it would be funny to see the disaster that Alexia was making. The sight that met you had you screaming and shouting. Alexia was taking your bedroom door off its hinges.

“What the fuck?” You shouted, anger your dominant emotion.

“Language!” She said calmly as she finished with the final nail.

“Seriously, what the actual fuck, Alexia? You’re taking my door off?”

“Sí. You kept slamming it. I told you not to slam the door. And it’s not your door. It’s mine. I own the house.”

“In that case, when do you want me to move out? Can I have a few hours to pack?” She scoffed, thinking you were bluffing. You were most certainly not bluffing. You looked over to Ona, standing at the top of the stairs, slightly embarrassed at witnessing the clearly private situation.

“You are too young to move out, cariño. Once you learn to respect those who are trying to help you, I’ll put the door back on,” she said simply, pushing the door onto its side and moving past you. “Hi, Ona,” she said sweetly.

You immediately gathered up a suitcase full of clothes and forced Ona to take you to her place. Spending time in an environment where you weren’t treated as a child only grew your resentment towards others. You loved being treated as the adult that you were. You spent a few nights with Ona before moving to Patri’s and Pina’s. You had ignored all the older girls' efforts to talk to you. They still muttered and moaned about how you weren’t old enough and that they were only trying to help, to do what was best for you. Eventually, you decided you needed your own place – sleeping on couches and pull-out beds was not good for your body.

“Um, I just wanted to let you know I’m moving out. Officially.” You approached Alexia one morning in the gym. It had been about a month, and you still hadn’t returned to her house. Everyone’s anger had been building up slowly.

“No. Absolutely not.” Alexia shut you down immediately.

“Ale,” you sighed. This wasn’t Alexia’s choice. You had already found a place nearer to the training centre. It was cute with old, patterned tiled flooring and exposed brick.

“No. You're too young to live by yourself.” You sighed, not willing to argue about this again.

“Ale, I … I’ve already got a place. I’ve put a deposit down already. I am moving out,” you sheepishly. The look of horror on her face was laughable. You would have thought you said you were skinning Nala and using her fur as clothing. “Um…” She held up a hand, stopping you from speaking. You had only really told her out of courtesy. You had been back to her house several times when she wasn’t home, slowly packing your stuff. The wardrobes were basically empty already; you just had to take down the decorations. It wasn’t like you had many up anyway. You had always thought of it as you sleeping in Alexia’s spare room; it was never yours. And you didn’t want it to be. You tried to speak again, but she just waved you off, turning on her heels and walking away, shaking her head.

After you had officially moved out, training was more awkward than ever. The older players constantly switched between throwing you sympathetic glances, angry glares, and disappointed looks. You had tried not to let it bother you. It honestly didn’t … for a while. In the beginning, it was nothing you weren’t used to. And then they were muttering about you within earshot. Talking amongst themselves over how rude you had been, they had only tried to help you. You were too young, and you were being disrespectful towards them. It really began to bother you, not to the point where your training and playing were affected, but in your personal life. The team had a definite rift, and you were starting to think you were the cause of it.

It was a random Monday morning when things finally came to a head.

“Oh my god!” Bruna squealed as you lifted your top up and over your head. “What are those, Miss Y/S/N?”

“What are what?” You were very confused. Jana gasped as she also spotted something, pointing at your chest. Hickeys. A line of dark purple splotches littered your chest and stomach.

“Fuck. She said she wouldn’t leave marks.” You groaned. You had gone out on Saturday night after the match with some of the younger girls and ended up leaving with a random girl. It was fun; she had stayed the night, and you had made her a coffee the following day before going your separate ways.

“Was she a vampire, Jesus?” Ona laughed, trying to poke at one of the particularly dark ones.

“Oi,” you battered her hand away, laughing all the same. “I’ve seen the aftermaths of your nights out, young lady. You have no leg to stand on,” laughing harder at the blush blooming on her cheeks.

“What. Are. Those?” Alexia boomed, bringing silence over your little group.

“Um, hickeys?” You answered, already tired of her controlling attitude.

“And how did you get them?” She replied. You raised an eyebrow at her.

“You had sex?” Lucy chimed in, disbelieving you.

“Yeh?” Her eyes widened; you were too young to be having sex. She opened her mouth to speak again. “If you’re about to give me the sex talk, don’t bother. That ship sailed long ago.” That stunned her. You had had sex on multiple occasions? She could feel her brain melting slightly.

“When?” Caro asked quietly, unsure whether she wanted to know that particular answer.

“Before I even came to Barca. I’d just signed my first contract. It was a friend from back home, it was nice. We’re still mates, so,” you filled her and the rest of the changing room in – totally open to confessing when you lost your virginity.

“You are too young to-” Alexia started, planning on berating you for your choices.

“Oh, shut up, Alexia.” You shouted. If you thought the changing room was quiet earlier, you could hear a pin drop now. No one shouted at Alexia. Ever. There were a few supercharged seconds. You refused to break eye contact with her. “I am not. Too. Young. I am a fully grown adult. You need to start realising that.” You looked around. “You all do.” You grabbed a random t-shirt and stormed out of the room.

The room was deadly silent. No one dared speak; no one dared even move for fear of retribution. At least Caro had the decency to look a little ashamed; everyone else was fuming.

A bang on the door broke the silence. “Apresúrate,” Jonatan shouted. The younger girls quickly gathered their stuff and rushed out, keeping their heads low and eyes trailing on the ground.

“That little-” Lucy started.

“Enough.” Ingrid cut her off. Ingrid had seen the way they had been treating you. She had heard the comments about how they deemed you too young to do normal things for a young adult to do. “All of you, enough.” They had never heard Ingrid shout before – irritated, sure, pissed off, yes, angry, never. “I am sick and tired of seeing how you treat that woman. She might have joined the team when she was young. But she is now an adult. And you refuse to see her as such. No wonder she snapped.” Alexia tried to cut in. “No, Ale. I know you mean well; you all do. I don’t doubt that. But you have told her off for going out, for drinking, for having sex. These are all normal things. She is safe, and she is happy. Surely, that is all that matters? If it was me, I would have snapped long, long ago. You are lucky; all she did was shout at you.” She turned to get her things. “Don’t come outside until you’ve thought about how to make this right with her,” Ingrid commanded as she stormed off.

The group was initially angry, ranting and raging over your behaviour, then they were slightly less angry with you and more at themselves. Eventually, they were silent, reflecting on how poorly they treated you. Alexia was the guiltiest. She felt so mortified over her treatment of you. Yes, you were a child when you first joined, but now you were a young woman who wanted her own life. They didn’t know how to apologise to you. As they traipsed into training, you refused to look at them.

Over the next few days, you didn’t acknowledge their presence at all. If they approached you in the canteen, you swiftly moved away. If they tried to pair up with you at training, you ran off before they could ask. They had tried to corner you in the changing rooms, but you had slipped out the door before they could move. You couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all. You had been pleading with them for months, years even, to treat you like an adult and yet, no, you were acting like a stroppy child.

It eventually became too much for the surrounding team, however, as Patri innocently shouted across the room that you would be at home tonight, alone. And Jana had openly yelled back with your full address, watching with quiet amusement as Lucy scribbled it down.

The knock on your door surprised you. It was only 7pm, not too late for anyone to come over, but no one had asked you or told you they would be making an appearance at your home. You didn’t bother looking through the little glass window as you threw open the door, about to question whoever it was. You froze when you were greeted with the sight of Alexia, Lucy, Marta, Caro and Paños. They had various looks of embarrassment on their faces, and Alexia had a big bouquet of your favourite flowers.

“What?” You asked, not really in the mood for them and any efforts they might have to persuade you to move back in with Alexia.

“Can we come in?” Paños asked. You sighed, knowing you would rather not have this conversation in front of your neighbours. Stepping aside, you eyed them carefully as they stepped into your flat.

“I like your place,” Lucy said awkwardly as you all came to rest at the kitchen table.

“Thanks.” You said bluntly, not really in the mood for this.

“Y/N,” Alexia spoke up. “I … we … I would like to apologise for, well, everything. We … I should have recognised that you are not a child. I am truly sorry.”

“Ok …” you looked between the group, all of them echoing similar sentiments.

“Ok? That’s it?” Marta was a little shocked that you were letting them off the hook so quickly.

“Do you want me to be mad at you? Cos, I’ll happily go back to ignoring you.” You answered. “All I ask is that you treat me like the adult I am. Yes, I go out. Yes, I get drunk. Yes, I have casual sex. Yes, I have one-night stands. All of these are normal adult things. The others do the same, yet you don’t jump on their backs about it. I’m just asking for you to treat me the way you treat them … like an adult.”

It was a slow process, and a few stray comments were still muttered under their breaths, but you could see they were trying. That’s all you could ask for—that they tried.

I hope you enjoyed it. I wasn't quite sure how to end it - if you couldn't tell ahahaha <3 There may be a pt2

#barca femeni #barca femeni x reader #fc barcelona #woso blurbs #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #ona batlle #lucy bronze #alexia putellas #woso fanfics #woso fluff #woso oneshot #woso #womens football

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bbgghost · 1 month

Text

lot to love: chapter 1

blurb: you are the nineteen year old, younger, mutant sister of Mystique. you go to Professor X's school and have been since you were young. this is going to be slowburn with wolverine ♡♡♡

a.n. this is my first time writing!!! but i love logan hopefully this is okay :3 i didn't know whether to call fire boy pyro or john so yeah -

c.w. there are some very brief very small references to past abuse, this is to align with Mystiques storyline! logan is obvi at least 150 years older than the reader so age-gap! I made the reader have cherry red hair just because Mystique does and I think it's a universally pretty hair colour!

masterlist

‘The main reasoning that the U.S. government used mutants as weapons during World War Two was because of what?’ You read the first question in your head. Biting your lip you looked at Bobby’s paper next to yours. You could barely see what he was writing, what with his arms basically covering the entire page. You rolled your eyes and lifted you body up ever so slightly. He’s supposed to be your friend and he’s covering the goddamn answer! A low grunt wakes you from your thoughts.

At the front of the classroom sat the one and only Logan Howlett. His long legs were rested on top of the table, and his blue buttoned t-shirt lay open over torso, revealing his classic white tank. His eyes were completely stuck on you and once you made eye-contact, his left eyebrow raised. You gulped harshly before shying away from his cold stare. Lowering your body, you circled ‘C’ and moved on.

Logan teaching was very rare, and as a student you barely even saw him. It was only when he was talking to Marie that you actually got to see him up close. Him taking your class was a ‘favour’ he was doing for Charles, at least that’s what he said.

The time was nearly up, the clock high on the wall indicated you had two minutes to go. You quickly made some educated guesses before hearing Logan’s deep voice. “Times up, kids.” You circled the last answer as ‘B’ before putting your pen down.

Looking over at Bobby you made desperate eye-contact with him, before mouthing ‘That sucked ass!’ A small snicker was heard from Logan next to you as he grabbed your paper. You turned back to Bobby as he merely shrugged. Rolling your eyes, you slouched and fidgeted with your pen again.

”Do you think we’ll have him teach our class again?” You asked Marie. “I don’t know, I think Professor X wants to get him more involved in school when there isn't too many missions.” She replied. You hummed before you guys had reached your lunch table. Sliding in next to Pyro, you dropped your folder before grabbing the tray he had gotten you. “Thanks.” You said gratefully to the boy next to you. He nodded softly before flicking his lighter.

Sticking the straw into the juice box, you glanced at the couple across from you as they ogled at each other. “Do you guys ever stop?” You complained. “No, no, I think we need to be more grateful they don’t have the ability to stick their tongues down each others mouths.” John laughed. “Ew. Gross.” You cringed at the thought, and in an attempt to rid the idea, looked away. Your eyes landed on the opening that the cafeteria doors provided to the rest of the building. Luckily enough, Logan walked past. He was now only wearing the wife beater and blue jeans. You noticed the brown cowboy-like belt he was wearing, holding together the 70's look he was portraying.

"Hey, is it cool if we dip?" You wipped you head around at the sound of Rogues voice. "Yeah, sure." And both Bobby and her were out of the cafeteria in seconds. You still had a good bit of food left on your plate, so you slowly ate pieces of it.

Next to you, you felt Pyro's fingers play with the ends of your hair. “I liked the blonde hair you had last Monday. I think it suited the way you looked.” He commented. “Oh, yeah?” You questioned as you made your hair fade to a warm blonde. “See it matches your eyes wonderfully.” He whispered. "Thanks." You muttered.

You both took bites out of you lunches, you let your eyes drift off. He kept his eyes trained on you. It made you bones crawl under your skin, and sweat brewed in your palms. You stayed calm though, your face still the same colour as ever, no pinker.

When you finished you turned to look him deep in the eyes. You blinked at him a couple of times. He mimmicked you actions. “I think we should get back to class.” You said firmly as you touched the edge of your dark blue folder. “Yeah.” He agreed before turning back to his lighter. You quickly grabbed your blue folder before stepping over the bench. “See ya.” You muttered, scattering out of the hall.

Your face cringed looking back on the moment. Gritting your teeth together harshly, you jumped up the stairs to your dorm. You opened the door, grabbed a stick of gum and chucked it in your mouth before closing the door and running to your next class. Running was an exaggeration, you thought, a fast walk was more like it. You walked past Logan, again, who gave you a raised eyebrow before speaking up.

“Hey blondie! Slow down! You’ll hurt someone.” He called out. Already a good ten metres away from him you stopped your fast pace and slowed to a stroll. What did he care anyway? From what you heard he wasn’t exactly a stickler for the Professor’s rules. You rolled your eyes, again, before you turned into a different hallway.

When you turned into the classroom, the Professor was already starting his lecture. Embarrassed as everyone stared at you, your hair changed back to it's normal cherry red. Sitting down at your usual seat in the back, you began scribbling on the lined paper of your notes. Hearts, bows and a letter 'W' adorned the corner of your page. You almost drowned out the voice of the Professor, but instead decided on trying to better your grades and started paying attention.

It was later that same evening. It was a warm cool spring afternoon, and after having yet another vivid nightmare, you decided you’d had enough. You slipped on your pink uggs and grabbed the journal and pen that Storm had gifted you. She had a motherly protectiveness towards you. As your teacher, she had noticed that you were often distracted during day-to-day life in the Mansion. And after your reluctance to express your feelings verbally, she suggested to write it all out.

This leather bounded, lined-page notebook had seen you through many purposes. When you had made it downstairs, you made a quick cup of tea and sat at the bench. You glanced at the time on the oven that was diagonal to your position. 1:00. You huffed before opening to a new page in your journal.

I can’t sleep again. Another dream about being back at home with my sister. They’re getting more vivid as the days go on, but never clear enough where I know exactly what’s happening. It’s always a flicker of light, a picture of Raven and then my old bed back in my old bedroom. I wish I could know the full story of my child. It’s so conflicting, feeling like I’ll never truly understand what was going on then. God, I was so young. I can’t believe they ever wanted to

You ceased your writing as footsteps slowly got louder and louder. You looked up, biting your lip to see Logan. His hair still perfectly shaped, and his wife beater still tucked in his jeans, he stood before you. “What are you doing up kid?” He questioned. You shut your book and placed the pen on top of it. “Uhm, I don’t know.” You answered, avid in eye contact. He just hummed in response and glanced at your journal that you had both your hands over.

“You writing something?” He asked. What kind of stupid question is that? “Yeah…” Again, all he did was hum. He turned and opened the fridge, huffing when he realised there still wasn’t any liquor. Logan decided that a glass of water would have to do. When he grabbed the jug you noticed yourself ogling at his back muscles. You ignored yourself, just some silly thing I’m naturally attracted to, right?

He filled a glass with the water, and sat the jug on the bench. You watched him the entire time, but once self-aware you glanced back down at your hands. Your nails were short and stubby, so you fixed it and made them manicured instead. You tapped the fresh acrylics against the leather of your notebook. The noise made Logan look to you again.

“Neat trick.” He commented. You made eye contact with him. “Yeah I guess.” You grew your hair out longer and twisted it around your finger. “What’s up with you kid, you were pretty talkative this morning?” He said softly. You blushed and let your hair fall in front of your face. “I forgot you heard that.” You whispered in reference to the comment you’d made this morning about the test the Professor had made him supervise. “I don’t know, the usual stuff.”

“The usual stuff.” He repeated. “Don’t I know that well…” You puffed out a laugh before resting your chin in your hand. “Why are you up?” You said quietly. His eyes flittered to yours, “same thing I’m guessing.” He had a knowing look in his eyes. You know he had heightened senses, you didn’t know anything about mind reading. “Nightmares.” You said so softly he didn’t know if you had even spoken.

“ ‘s that why you’re writing?” He asked. You nodded and grabbed your cup to take a sip out of it. He mimicked you and drank out of his glass. “It’s a good habit. Don’t get rid of it.” He said before walking out of the kitchen.

#wolverine x reader #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #x men

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zaynes-nieve · 3 days

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Zayne Confirmed Lore

Anything confirmed by the developers, including any accounts or information within the game! (I will update you as the game continues, and I appreciate any info I can get from you all as well!!!!)

Basic Info:

Zayne's Birthday is September 5th | About Him

Other Names: Rei (JP), Lee See-Oen (KR) and Li Shen (CN)

Zayne's Constellation sign is a Virgo (like me)| About Him

Zayne is 6'1 | About Him

Zayne's age is 27 | About Him

Zayne is the Chief Cardiac Surgeon at Akso Hospital | About Him

Zayne's evol is Ice | About Him

Daily Life and a good chunk of the lore

Zayne is a workaholic, and he likes it | Gentle Twilight/About Him

He is good at snowboarding! | Everlasting Snowdrop/About Him

He knows how to peel an apple in one go | Spring Remnants/About Him

He is good at drawing (those anatomical diagrams, ftw!!!) | Suprise Encounter/About Him

He has a sweet tooth (like me) | Nostalgic Sweetness/About Him

He gets toothaches (unlike me) | Nostalgic Sweetness/About Him

He is a terrible patient (Strict against others, indulgent to his own whims) | Nostalgic Sweetness/About Him

Zayne is a teetotaler (a person who never drinks alcohol) | Drunken Intimacy/About Him

He is good at pool but is a strict teacher | Exclusive Tutorial/About Him

His Parents are also Doctors and work with Doctors without Borders overseas | Eternal Attachment/About Him

He sends them a message on his birthday each year, telling them he is just fine! | Eternal Attachment/About Him

Zayne has a hard time controlling his Evol | Main Story 4-10/Never Ending Winter ch.4

Starcatcher Awardee (2046) | Main Story 4-5

Linde Award Winner (Year 2046) | Main Story 4-5 / Never Ending Winter ch.10? Last chapter mention

His patients all are obedient (terrified) of him | A Pure White Heart ch. 3

Dr. Zayne and Dawnbreaker see each other in their dreams | Gonna be pulling from a lot of things, so give me a moment for this one 😭 (Never Ending Winter Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.4) (Ngl Dawnbreaker Might Need his own section....or Page)

He has a pet squirrel named after the medication, Clopidogrel! | Feed the Squirrel/Message

It appears Zayne also frequently volunteers to assist in medical relief for disasters or joins the medical teams assisting hunters fighting wanders in high-frequency zones | Dawn's Shadows, Foreign Aid/Video Call, Hidden Motive, Medical Rescue

He is quick to forgo his well-being to save others in dangerous situations. He truly puts his own duty as a doctor above everything else.| Medical Rescue, Neon Night

His Past:

Zayne was one smart cookie and skipped several years! But because he was so young and his classmates were not. He had a hard time making friends | Delicacy/About Him

When he was in medical school, he visited a barbeque stall a lot | Delicacy/About Him

He has a good tolerance for pain😭and he gets injured a lot, leaving many scars | Medical Rescue/About Him

Dr. Zayne was in the 35th Cohort of the Skyhaven Medical School in a PhD Program | Never Ending Winter ch.1

He was an intern under Dr. William (took him under his wing) | Never Ending Winter ch.1

It's implied he had to kill William after those black crystals seemed to be turning Dr.William into a Wanderer (Do we consider this confirmed enough?) | Never Ending Winter ch. 6

He Plays Tennis (and won a prize!) | Tennis Game/Messages

Due to the time travel shenanigans and our boy being the best at everything, Zayne is now an expert Jade carver! | Moonlit Dream

His Likes:

He really hates carrots!!! | A Frozen Promise/About Him

He visits medical museums to relax, or he will go look out at the river | Heart Within Reach/About Him

Our Story 💙❄️☃️

He gave us a little snow seal when we were children (we thought it was a snowball) | A Frozen Promise/About Him

After seeing our name on the volunteer list for the Frontlines, he follows us. Hidden Motive/Insta Acc.

He is our Primary Doctor!!! (we're not gonna talk about the ethics of this LMFAO) | Main Story 1-8/About Him

Zayne said he melted an "old" popsicle (our popsicles at this time) for us when we were kids | Nostalgic Sweetness/About Him

Our Grandmother left us a letter with Zayne, and he seems to know more than he is letting on | Main Story 4-7 (I'll double check this one)

We voted for him in the Patient's Favorite Doctor poll on Asko's official account (He also won) | A Vote/Message

HE USES US AS HIS WALLPAPER | Screen Saver/Message

Zayne is not above bribery (whether it is us or his patients) | I Miss You/Message

We gave daffodils to Zayne! (they're garlic) | Gardening/Message

Dawnbreaker

(Work in Progress)

Please look at Zayne's third anecdote, the newest five-star (the free Sept 30th one), The Birthday one, and about a million Tumblr posts because this likely won't be finished anytime soon.

Pls hit me up with any more information and where it's from!!

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driverlando · 2 months

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🗞️ oh whats that?? Lando norris caught proposing to long term gf in santorini! Get the scoop on who was invited and the large diamond he purchased! PS….she said yes 🫶🥺 congrats btw

EXCLUSIVE: Lando Norris Pops the Question in Santorini! Get All the Details on the Romantic Proposal, Guest List, and the Stunning Diamond Ring!

Love is in the air, and it seems our favourite McLaren driver, Lando Norris, has taken the plunge! The 24-year-old British Formula 1 star was spotted on the picturesque island of Santorini, proposing to his long-term girlfriend in a scene straight out of a fairy tale.

The Romantic Setting

Santorini, with its breathtaking sunsets and stunning caldera views, has long been a favourite destination for romantic escapades. Norris chose this idyllic location to ask the biggest question of his life. Witnesses say the couple looked utterly smitten, with Lando down on one knee against the backdrop of a golden sunset, creating a picture-perfect moment.

The couple has been dating for several years, keeping their relationship relatively low-key amidst the hustle and bustle of F1 fame. However, it seems they couldn’t keep this special moment under wraps, as eagle-eyed fans and locals alike caught glimpses of the magical evening.

The Sparkling Diamond

The talk of the town, however, is the dazzling diamond ring Norris slipped onto his fiancée’s finger. Sources close to the couple reveal that Lando went all out for the special occasion, choosing a stunning, large solitaire diamond set in a classic platinum band. The exquisite piece is said to be worth a small fortune, reflecting both his love and his status as one of F1’s young stars.

Who Was Invited?

While the proposal itself was an intimate affair, Norris and his fiancée were not alone. They were surrounded by a select group of close friends and family who were reportedly in on the secret and there to share in the joy. Among the guests were a few notable names from the racing world, adding a touch of glamour to the occasion.

Sources indicate that the guest list was kept deliberately small to maintain privacy and intimacy. However, with the couple’s wide circle of friends and Lando’s popularity, it’s no surprise that word of the engagement quickly spread. The event was said to be filled with laughter, tears of joy, and a fair share of champagne toasts.

A Look to the Future

The proposal marks a new chapter for Norris, who has quickly become one of the most beloved figures in Formula 1. Known for his cheeky sense of humour and incredible talent on the track, fans are thrilled to see him take this significant step in his personal life.

As the news breaks, congratulations are pouring in from fans, fellow drivers, and celebrities alike. The newly engaged couple has yet to announce any wedding plans, but speculation is already rife about when and where they might tie the knot. Will it be another exotic destination, or perhaps a more traditional ceremony in their native UK? Only time will tell!

For now, the couple is basking in the glow of their engagement, and we can only imagine the excitement building as they plan their future together. One thing’s for sure: if their engagement is anything to go by, the wedding is set to be an affair to remember.

PS: The Answer?

Oh, and in case there was any doubt, she said yes! With such a romantic setting and a beautiful ring, how could she not?

Stay tuned for more exclusive updates and inside scoops on this developing love story. From the racetrack to romance, Lando Norris proves he’s a champion in more ways than one!

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula one social media au #lando norris smau #lando norris social media au #lando norris scenarios #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris drabble #driverlando2k

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starryevermore · 8 months

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the house of snow (1) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board | ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: your parents are convinced that you will marry the king by the end of the social season. and so, too, it seems does coriolanus snow.

word count: 2,764

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: no use of y/n, you cannot stand coryo, not proofread

Coriolanus Snow’s rise to the throne was something you never expected to come to fruition. When you were younger, you remembered your peers talking about how Snow wanted to one day rule Panem. At the time, you thought it was just another wild dream of a child. Something a child would say when an adult asks what they wish to be when they grow up. “A pirate!” one might exclaim. Or, perhaps, “A painter!” The sort of thing that a sensible parent would shrug off and not dedicate anymore thought to. The Snow family, as it turned out, was not particularly sensible.

When the Former King Ravinstill died without warning, the throne was left vacant. Everyone knew that the old man had little life left in him. Yet, despite his age, he had a tendency to power through. No one thought he would have lived as long as he did, but he had. So, the Electors had not yet begun considering his replacement. No one had been prepared enough to seek candidacy. No one, except Coriolanus Snow. A few other eligible persons put forth their names, but no one garnered support quite like the young man. From a prominent family, the son of a general, had served briefly himself, intelligent, and had the financial backing of the Plinth family? There was no version of history where Snow could lose.

Within weeks of Ravinstill’s death, Snow was crowned King.

You did not care for politics, so you knew little of his reign. But your father seemed pleased, talking often and loudly about how the young Snow would restore Panem to its former glory. You weren’t so sure of that. Though you did not interact with him often in your younger years, you remembered Snow as someone who was self-serving. Who would pretend to care if only it could further his own interests. He very well might let all of Panem burn if it meant he could gain from it. But your father was quite pleased with Snow as King and, when word began to spread that Snow would be seeking a bride this next social season, your father pushed hard for you to woo the King.

“If you wish to serve your family well, my little dove, you will convince the King to marry you,” your father told you the moment he heard the news.

You all but scoffed. “I hardly think I am the sort of woman he wishes to marry. A man like him would want someone meek, someone who would not challenge his authority. We hardly ever agreed on the schoolyard, and for that reason, he never considered me a friend. How could he ever see me as a wife?”

Your father’s eyes narrowed at you. “It is your responsibility, then, to make yourself small so that he may choose you.”

“I would rather die than sacrifice my ideals, Papa,” you said. “Why can I not vie for any other’s attention? I know Lord Plinth quite well. I’ve always enjoyed his company. It would be easy to win his heart and have our family set for life. Certainly easier than winning over the King.”

He sneered, “The only thing the Plinth family is good for is their money. I want to be respected. We would be little more than social pariahs if you wed the Plinth boy.”

“I shall not marry the King—”

Your mother stepped in before you could say something you might come to regret. She placed a hand on your arm, directing your attention to her. “Never mind that now. There is still time before the season begins for minds to be changed.”

“I shall not change my mind, Mama.”

She looked over at your father, who was the perfect picture of irate. She looked back to you. “Perhaps, but perhaps not. Let us go clear our minds, yes? We should go order new gowns at the modiste before everyone else floods her with demands.”

“You cannot distract me with fashion.”

“But you would do well to pretend that I have.”

Your efforts to convince your parents that you would not, under any circumstance whatsoever, marry Coriolanus Snow did not do anything for you. Despite your best efforts, you now stood in the palace for the King’s Ball, wearing the most beautiful powder blue gown fresh from the modiste, trying and failing to hide from your mother, so that you might delay her forcing you onto Snow. For now, though, she had been distracted by a conversation with Lady Dovecote about…whatever mothers talked about. Surely some scheme that would end with either you or Clemensia as Snow’s betrothed. You rolled your eyes at the thought.

A familiar voice said your name. When you turned, you were greeted by the sight of Sejanus Plinth, holding two glasses of lemonade. He handed one to you, remarking, “I never knew you to be one to hide from the crowd.”

“I shall hide from the crowd when my mama is convinced I shall become Queen by the end of the season.”

“Ah.” Sejanus took a drink and laughed. “Strange, isn’t it? Seeing everyone we grew up with vying for Coryo’s attention.”

Coryo? Oh, yes. That was the nickname those close to Snow would call him. You had forgotten that the two were friends. Hmm, perhaps you could use that information the next time your parents try to force a connection with Snow. Something about how getting close to his friend might make him interested in you. “That it is. It seems as though everyone has lost their minds just for a glimpse of the crown.”

Sejanus laughed again. Then he looked at you a little more seriously, and said, “If I am honest, I am surprised you are not among those fighting for Coryo’s attention.”

Your brows pinched together. “You think I am interested in climbing the social ladder? Lord Plinth, you should know me well enough that I care more for a love match than gaining a title.”

“No, no. That is not what I meant. I remember in school that you and Coryo always had a sort of connection. Truthfully, I thought one of you might have acted on it sooner when you entered society.”

“The only connection we had was that of hatred. We despised each other.”

Sejanus shook his head, his curls bouncing. “I do not think that was true for Coryo. He liked that you challenged him. He has never been the sort of person who liked people who switch their position when the tide seems to turn. He likes people who are firm in their convictions.”

You laughed. “He’s told you this?”

“Not in so many words. But you have to wonder why he always sought you out.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps he is crueler than we all think.”

Sejanus moved to protest, but another beat him to it. “Or perhaps you judge without truly knowing.”

You froze. Oh, how you had hoped that you could have avoided him tonight! Damn Sejanus and his friendship with Snow. So much for him being your safe haven during these balls. You might as well have lit a beacon leading straight to you. Alas, you did not want Snow to see the hatred you had brewing for him. Even if you did not like the man, you would be a social pariah if you made such feelings known to him. So, you painted on a smile as you turned to look at Snow. “Or perhaps I made an educated guess supported by the evidence of past interactions.”

Snow snorted, turning his gaze to Sejanus. “Always so quick with a response, she is.”

Sejanus glanced at you, a knowing look in his eyes. If you were a mindreader, you could imagine him gloating in his mind about how he was right, that this was a sign that Snow cared for you in some way. But you only knew it to be yet another indicator that you and Snow could never, ever, get along. “Her wit has never dulled.”

“Should we see, then, if her dance skills are still equally sharp?”

Sejanus looked at you again, a brilliant smile on his face. Oh, how you wished to wipe that look off. This was not proof of anything. This did not prove his point. “I could not think of anything better.”

Damn you, Sejanus Plinth. Damn you.

Snow held his arm out for you to take. You stared at it, not moving. “In order to dance with a lady, you must ask her. I do not recall you asking me anything.”

Snow glanced just beyond you. When you turned your head to follow his gaze, you saw your mother and Lady Dovecote watching the interaction carefully. As you looked back at Snow, he said, “Your mother would be disappointed if you did not dance with me.”

“It is amazing you became King when you are so lacking in manners.” But you knew your mother—the entirety of the ton, perhaps—would consider you insane to turn the King down so openly. So you took his arm and let him lead you onto the dance floor.

He snorted. “You are the only person who speaks so freely to me.”

“Ah, so this is one last dance before my execution? How kind. Perhaps I was wrong about your cruelty.”

“There is much you are wrong about,” Snow said. You had reached the dance floor. The crowd parted around you, allowing you and Snow to take the middle of the floor. You faced him, allowing his hand to fall to you waist. You placed one hand on his shoulder, and let him take the other in his free hand. “It would be far too much of a shame to take your life.”

“Such a kind and gentle king.”

“Only for those who deserve it.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mother miming for you to smile. You fought the urge to sneer instead. Even if you would rather do anything else than be courted by Coriolanus Snow, acting out would not do you any favors. If you had any hope in finding a love match, you had to at least be cordial to him. So you smiled as prettily as you could. But you couldn’t help yourself from saying, “Then perhaps you should go see a physician. You seem to have lost your mind.”

To your surprise, Snow laughed. The sound almost scared you. When was the last time you heard Snow laugh? An actual laugh, at that. None of his snorts of derision or half-hearted chuckles when he was trying to charm someone. Had you ever heard him laugh before? You tried to wrack your brain, but you could not recall anything. In school, he had always been so serious—focused more on using the tools available to him to climb the social ladder rather than being a kid like everyone else. Though, you supposed, Snow was a far cry from everyone else.

The music began to play, and Snow spun you around the dance floor. As you turned, you locked eyes with Sejanus. He wore a large grin on his face, seemingly sure that you and Snow were making nice. Why else would he have laughed at something you said? You wished you could yell out to Sejanus, tell him that he was dead wrong.

“What is it that people say? Something about love driving people mad?”

This time, you did roll your eyes. “Oh, come off it. You and I both know perfectly well that you do not care for me. I hardly understand why you’re even entertaining this nonsense, if for no other reason than to torture me.”

Snow considered you. After a long moment of silence, he said, “I seek a bride who will produce me an heir. There are few women here who meet my standards. A woman of good breeding, from a respectable family, and intelligent enough to keep up with me. Someone who will be a good Queen and a good mother.”

“Someone that you can control.” You scoff. “You truly must see a physician, Your Majesty, if you think that I will fall in line with whatever you ask of me.”

His lips curled into a grin. Your stomach churned. “Not yet.”

The next morning, your mother promptly reported that you had danced with Coriolanus Snow not once, not twice, but three times to your father. To say he had been pleased was something of an understatement. He was certain that Snow would soon be reaching out to discuss a proposal. It did not matter how much you tried to downplay the situation—explain that he was only dancing with you for some other reason than him wishing to marry you. Your parents minds were made up. By the end of the season, you were to be Queen of Panem.

“It’s just the nerves,” your mother dismissed as you sat in the drawing room, waiting for any suitor to call on you. “You will be more than confident once you are wed.”

You ground your teeth together. “I do not wish to marry Coriolanus Snow. I would marry anyone else. I would let you or Papa pick anyone else in the ton and I would not let out a single complaint. I cannot marry that man.”

Something just beyond you caught your mother’s attention. Your father, you supposed. “You should not say such things—” she began to say. Of course. Of course she would say that.

“Why not? It is true. I would be miserable with him. I would rather die than be his bride, bear his children. Frankly, forcing me to marry him may as well be a death sentence.”

“Dear, you do not truly mean that—”

“And you must not know me at all if you think I am not being completely, and utterly, truthful right now. Coriolanus Snow is the last man I would ever wish to marry.”

Your mother leaned in close to you, hissing, “Stop talking right now, young lady.”

A frown settled on your face. Why was she so bothered about you speaking so freely? There was no one in the room but you, her, and a maid. Perhaps she was concerned about the maid spreading gossip with other maids and that slowly enveloping the ton. It wasn’t a non-possibility, to be sure. But why was she acting so…scandalized by your words?

Unless…

You turned your head toward the entrance of the room. There should Coriolanus Snow, dressed in a dark red suit, holding a bouquet of white roses. Your mouth went dry. Oh, why does he keep showing up when you least expect it? “The butler typically announces when a guest has arrived,” you said.

You couldn’t read his face. A part of you wondered if you had offended him. You didn’t particularly care about offending him, but you also knew that such an act could have dire consequences on you marrying anyone else. “He was going to, but I wanted my arrival to be a surprise.” He took a step closer to you, holding out the roses. “I just had these freshly picked from my garden.”

A part of you wanted to smack the roses out of his hands, but you had already embarrassed your mother enough in front of Snow. You took the roses, yet couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “I cannot believe a man like you could grow something so beautiful.”

Your mother let out a loud—obviously fake—laugh. “Oh, isn’t she just funny? She always says the silliest things.”

Snow chuckled. He smiled at your mother—the sort of smile that your stomach twist into knots. Like he knew something no one else did, and he was reveling in that. “It is one of her more…charming traits.” He turned his attention back to you. “As lovely as this is, I came to ask if you would like to promenade with me in the square.”

Oh, Snow. Why was he so good at backing you into corners? You took a breath and passed the bouquet to the maid so she could put them in a vase. “That would be nothing short of a delight.”

He held out his arm for you to take. You slipped your hand around his bicep, your nails digging in. If he felt any pain, he didn’t show it. Instead, he leaned down so that you could only hear him whisper, “It seems like you fall in line much easier than you would like to believe.”

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

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