#not even like i didn't understand the word

[yuukiiqwq]

Satoru Gojo, the strongest, who cared only about dominating the court suddenly cared only about you. Him and his team were practicing for a game next week in the school gym when he noticed you sitting among the crowd of spectators. Whenever him and his team practice, the students in school will always come watch in their free time. He recognized some familiar faces, but you, he doesn't recognize you. He had never seen you here before, and something about you dragged his attention towards you.

Satoru, who never misses a shot when he has his hand on the ball, suddenly misses? Dead silence. His team stared at him with confusion and disbelief that the Satoru Gojo missed a shot. His best friend and teammate, Suguru, came up to him with concern in his eyes and asked– "Are you alright, Satoru?"

Satoru runs his hand through his hair and huffed out a fine to his best friend. What the fuck just happened to him? Must have been a fluke he said to himself as his eyes wandered towards the crowd who was gossiping about his failed shot. His eyes then wandered towards you who was staring right at him. His eyes widen when you caught him staring at you before quickly turning away. His heart racing in his chest in an uncontrollable pace. He noticed Suguru and his teammates still staring at him with concern in their eyes.

"C'mon, let's continue practice," he sighs. "I just got distracted. It won't happen again."

The team was reluctant to continue practice because no matter how distracted Gojo was, he had never missed a shot. He could practically play a game with his eyes closed and not miss, but all of a sudden, he missed? As practice continued, Satoru made no other mistakes. He didn't miss again, but every time he scores, his eyes always end up wandering towards you.

Fuck. What the fuck is happening to him? Why can't he stop his eyes from going towards you whenever he scores? Why is he so focused on the way your eyes light up in awe as he makes every shot? The way you wet your soft looking lips with your tongue as you stood at the edge of your seat. You were a sinful sight to behold.

When practice ended, Satoru quickly left the court to go to the locker room. As he pushed past his teammates, he noticed their confused expression. Their confusion was understandable because, normally, Satoru would be the last one to their locker room. Satoru loves attention, so he would always give out fan services when practice or a game ends. However, this time, Satoru was quickly pushing open the gym door to escape, and his eyes wander towards you one last time before completely exiting the gym. He doesn't like what he's feeling right now. It was suffocating, but it's ok, right? Today was just a one-time thing. Oh, how wrong he was.

Since that day, he noticed that you always were there during their practice. He knows you're not from his school because of your uniform, so who exactly were you? Who allowed you in? And why is it that he couldn't get enough of you? Why did you suddenly show up in his life out of nowhere?

Satoru sat down on the bench as the other continued the practice game, wiping his sweat with his towel as he secretly watched you. You who had his under some kind of spell. You who he hasn't spoken one word to since the day he saw you. He wanted you to say his name. Hear the syllables of his name come out of your soft looking lips. Gojo wasn't dumb. He just likes pretending to be, so it doesn't help that he knew exactly what was going on with him. He knew what he was feeling, and it was downright stupid. Fuck love at first sight. It shouldn't exist. He shouldn't want to kiss you. He doesn't even know your name! He groans as he run his hand through his hair again. He curse at himself before he felt something cold touch his cheeks.

"What caught your eyes, Captain?"

Satoru took the water bottle from Shoko's hand and took a big sip. "What are you doing here, Shoko? Don't you have that medical test or whatever to study for?"

Shoko rolled her eyes at his comment– "That was yesterday Gojo. So are you just going to ignore my question? Clearly, something is up for you to miss your shot a few days ago."

"No idea what you're talking about," Satoru replied as he fixed his hair. "Didn't miss nothing."

"Right. It's not like the whole school was gossiping about you missing for the first time."

"These people and their big mouths..." He mumbles. Funny coming from him since he himself would have done the same if the situation was flipped.

Shoko looked toward the place Gojo was eyeing and then saw you. She blinked once and then looked back at Gojo before huffing out a small laugh. Someone is going to be in for a surprise.

"That's his sister, y'know?"

"Not funny, Shoko," Satoru said before looking at Shoko's expression. She was serious. You and your brother look nothing alike. He sighs before mumbling a curse under his breath.

"Oh fuck indeed," Shoko laughs again as she turned towards the gym door. "Going to need some sweets?"

"Yeah, I'll pay you back later."

"Free of charge today. My compensation for this free entertainment. It's going to be an interesting few days." Satoru was now left to his own thoughts. He couldn't help but sigh at his predicament.

Satoru never got the chance to speak to you. Whenever he tries to go towards you, he stops and turns away. He couldn't help but be nervous when it comes to you. It's not his fault that he thinks he'll faint from hearing your voice. He'll talk to you one day when the opportunity arises. It seems fate had granted him his wish. Satoru had met you outside one morning right before his team game. You had accidentally bumped into him while rushing.

"Ouch!" You rubbed your nose from the sudden collision before looking up at him with your innocent and beautiful eyes. Oh fuck. Your voice was music to his ears. He just gone to heaven and what made it even worse was how you looked. Why the fuck do you look so pretty this early in the morning? He himself could barely get out of bed for today's game. His hair is messy and all over the place. His shirt is not all the way buttoned, and his tie is hanging loosely over his neck. If he didn't have a game today, he would be at school getting scold. He just looked like a mess compared to you. Sure, he is a hot mess right now, but this was not the impression he wanted to give when he talked to you. He listened to your endless apologies before interrupting with a question.

"You coming to the game?"

"Huh?" You stopped your apologies at his sudden question before his question clicked. You didn't know he noticed you during his practices. Your eyes instantly light up and grab his hand. "Yes, I am! I'm very excited since it's my first time witnessing a game! I've been to your practice for a while because of my brother's invitation. Oh, my brother is–"

As you continued your rambling, Satoru's eyes were fixated on the fact that you were holding his hands. Your small and soft hand holding his. He stopped your rambling by taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. An intimate act. You looked up at him in confusion, and before you could say anything, he was tugging you along.

"Making sure you don't get lost on the way. Let's walk together to the stadium." An excuse to keep your hand in his even though you were practically strangers. He made sure you couldn't let go.

When the two of you finally arrived at the stadium, he had to let you go. He didn't want to let go, but he had to go towards the locker room so he could change into his game uniform.

"Name is Satoru Gojo. Call me Satoru. Let's hang out after the game today." He then brought your hand towards his lips and kissed it. His eyes moved up towards your eyes, holding your gaze as he whispered– "Keep your eyes on me." He then quickly left towards the locker room, his ears burning from his sudden boldness. While he can dominate the court, you have dominated his heart.

When he entered the locker room, his team was already getting ready for the big games. He quickly went to his locker beside his best friend and started to undress his school uniform. Suguru was already ready for the game, so he was sitting on the bench in the locker room, drinking some water.

"I'm in love with your sister," Satoru blurted out, causing Suguru to immediately spit out the water he was drinking. Confusion and disbelief were written all over his face.

"What?"

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #satoru gojo drabble #gojo satoru drabble #gojo satoru imagine #jjk imagines #satoru gojo imagine #gojo satoru headcanons #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #jjk #satoru gojo x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x reader

[heartlyrins]

Hi! This is my first time requesting so forgive me if I did something wrong 😿

I've read your Aventurine x slave!reader and I was wondering how about reader who WANTS to be his sex slave? The first time reader met Aventurine, she's been gushing over him. Reader tries to hide it but the word "simp" literally written on her face. Every night reader dreams of riding, sucking Aventurine's cock, wanting his head between her legs, rocking her inside every night. Every time reader nears/sees Aventurine, her face got red and her legs slightly parting although she insists it's just her habit. It didn't took Aventurine long to know what reader has been dreaming of and he's gladly fulfill reader's small dream.

Bonus: reader has a degradation kink and in her mind she'll do anything Aventurine told/request her like a good pet

Once again sorry if this is somehow against your rule 😭 If you're not feeling comfortable with it you can delete my message

MR HOTSTUFF, PLEASE NOTICE ME !

˚₊‧desc— Aventurine noticed that one of his subordinates just can't seem to keep their eyes off him!

˚₊‧tw— smut, degradation kink, dacryphilia, blowjob, slight pet play, adult toys, buttplug, public sex?, dubcon photo taking, choking, masochistic!reader, sadistic!Aventurine, kinda yandere!reader

˚₊‧a/n— I've been having writer's block but I desperately want to write for my husband. This is the most tame fic I've written so far I think, this is soo horrible cuz I wrote this while my head hurts.

He hated dealing with new recruits in the IPC, as the senior member of the strategic investment department—it wasn't really his job to do so.

They're incompetent, slow-working assholes who can't understand a single thing he says. But still—he does need to pick a partner.

He doesn't understand why he needs to, since he's fully capable of himself but it is a requirement for every Ten-Stonehearts members. Said it was something about a program training the recruits..

He goes to round the recruits and asking them questions to find which is the most suitable one for him.

Honestly, all of these recruits are dumber than Topaz's pet. The talent motivation department did a horrible job with finding these recruits.

Each one of them can't answer a simple question, when he asks them if they're willing to risk their life for a gamble, all of them just suddenly go dumb-witted as if they lost all braincells.

He doesn't mean to sound like a fellow acquaintance who nags everytime he sees an idiot, but for the love of Qlipoth are they a dumbass with a stick shoved up their ass.

He rejected all of them and was even beginning to think that he wasn't gonna pick one that's good enough, well that was until he was met with the sight of a cute girl—undoubtedly nervous.

How could he miss such a gem in these crowds? He observes you for a moment and when you glance at him—your eyes shine with admiration.

He likes it, you're cute, can keep up with his commands although you do that little thing that makes you space-out sometimes.

He's not extremely bias towards women, but aren't you just so adorable—a diamond in the rough, he thinks.

And when he asks you a question, you'd respond in a fast tone. And when he finally asks you the question that the other recruits dreaded, you'd answer in a cheery tone.

"Y-yes, I'd like to sacrifice my life for you, Aventurine! You're amazing and I'd really like it if I was your assistant even if that means I have to die just to worship the ground you walk on—" you stop when he just stares in your eyes without a response.

Bingo.

"How is your recruit fairing, Aventurine? I heard that you liked her very much." Topaz asks while petting Numby that's placed on her lap.

"Mmn, she's alright." he says as if he wasn't hiding you beneath his desk, sucking his cock as he has a conversation with Topaz. He hums as he strokes your hair, Topaz still so blissfully unaware of what a happening under the table.

"How about your recruit?" he asks and pushes you down deeper by your head, you gagged but it was silenced by Topaz's talking, thankfully.

"I don't like him, it seems like I chose the wrong one. I'm even considering to drop the program off—it's not even worth it since we should be busy with other things." she sighs before crossing her arms and Numby squeals when she does that.

"Sounds like he's a handful." he almost moans but he managed to keep it in, his face is probably flushed at the moment.

"You have no idea of how much of a—Hey, you okay? You look pretty red." she mentions and almost stands up to check on him.

"Yeah—gh. I'm fine, I'm just not up for conversations right now." you bat your eyelashes at him, tears threatening to fall down whilst you take him deeper in your mouth.

Topaz nods—placing the space trotter down as the chair scrapes against the floor, Numby starts to stare at him as if aware of what was happening.

"Hey Topaz," Aventurine called out as she was leaving the room, "Lock the door before you leave, please." He accidentally let out a moan which was silenced quickly while hoping that she doesn't notice.

She doesn't question the slight moan and leaves the room with her pet following, Numby looks at him suspiciously before being called by Topaz and Numby hurriedly follows behind.

Aventurine finally breathes heavily, not realizing that he was holding his breath all these time. The fact that you're gazing up at him with those eyes of yours make his cock twitch in your mouth.

"Y-you.. Fuck.. What a good recruit I have hm? You're so—fuck.. Come here, bend over the desk." you abide, bending over the table and lifting your skirt to proudly show him the buttplug you wore that resembles a cat's tail.

"So cute.." he coos and flicks the tail, he had gifted you that just the day before you so willingly confessed your obsession over him.

"M-master—cock.." he slaps your butt once, reminding you of your place and how you're not supposed to make any demands.

"Nuh-uh, remember how I taught you? Manners, baby." you whimper at his words before fumbling over your words again which just makes you get another spank on the butt.

"No cock until you learn to ask properly." whining at his words—you try to speak properly, you do want his cock after all.

"Cock—please, Master..? I'll be good.." you manage to let out despite the embarrassment, but you're so used to being shameless around him.

He praises you for a moment and grants your wishes—the wish that you desperately wants his dick in your cunt.

The hands that were holding your hips were now on your neck, gripping your throat tightly and cutting off your airway.

But you like it—it's feels so good to be choked— especially by him! You want to die by his hands.. By his graceful hands.

"M-more.. More.." the word leaves you like a river flowing out, you drool once he pushes himself inside you and grunts.

The rhythm starts off slow and gentle before it proceeds to get rougher and deeper, you moan out and looks at him with a blurry vision.

Just before you could pass out—he took his hands off you just so you could breath in and you physically whine.

Just by that whine—he gradually speeds up faster, hitting the spots within you that you could never reach with a custom-made dildo of him.

Tears start slipping down your cheeks which he smiles at. He loves your tears, he loves it when you break down because of him.

More and more, you start to get crazier day by day—mad over a woman getting too close to him and oh he just loves that.

He kisses your tears away and grins at your dumbstruck face—he cums at the sight of it, pushing his seed deep inside your womb.

You're already gone the first round, he wants to do much much more with you. But first, he pulls out a gift for you.

A collar for you, he clips the collar on your neck. Now he can fuck you easily—and also show that you're his and his subordinate alone.

#aventurine smut #aventurine x reader #aventurine x y/n #aventurine x you #yandere aventurine #star rail aventurine #hsr aventurine #hsr smut #yandere hsr

[nishions]

things he wished he'd done ⟡ psh

syn three things sunghoon wished he had done more often & one thing he ended up doing instead

wc 640 && trope idol! ex bf hoon x non idol! fmr mlist

note 🗒️ ; my apology for ditching u guys 2 days straight 😢😢 i'll be back on that grind Again Tmr 😂😂🫵 also gc saw it first yupp 💪💪

saying "i love you" more often

you understood sunghoon had a hard time both expressing and showing his feelings, so it wasn't surprising when he rarely told you the infamous "L" word. you didn't mind, though. sunghoon showed his love for you through other things like giving you gifts and telling you how gorgeous you looked. the only times he would say the three words is when you two would argue and when he felt like you were slipping through his fingers. you didn't find this intoxicating, as you knew that he loved you deep down, but you did wish he would tell you more often.

sunghoon felt the same. he wanted to tell you he loves you in multiple instances — but he could never get the words right. he really did love you. he believed that in every universe you two were meant to be and he wanted you to know that. so so badly. it didnt matter what the circumstances were in the other timeline — he just knew he loved you. and as long as you were there on his side, he would be okay.

spending more time with you

sunghoon struggled balancing out his busy schedule and you. of course, he had his days off where he spent the day with you, but majority of the time he was tired and wanted to stay home. you weren't in the scene nor did you plan to be, but you still understood that your boyfriend was a busy man. from concerts, tours, award shows and being an mc at music bank — he was bound to be tired at the end of the day. he was never home with you. of course, you did facetime daily but there was still this huge block between you two.

it wasn't that you didn't support his decision of being an idol, but it was clear that this relationship was bound to end due to his busy life — if even you didn't want it to.

communicating with you

even in the smallest inconveniences for your relationship, you wanted him to communicate. it was always number one priority on both ends to initiate communication. fortunately, there wasn't many problems in your relationship — until he started closing himself. it was completely out of the blue. from the dry replies and ignoring you when you came over to the dorms — it was obvious something was up.

you asked the guys what was wrong with him and they didn't seem to know either. you thought that maybe it was just stress from the upcoming tour. you gave him his space, hoping he would eventually tell you — but he never did.

the one thing he ended up doing — pushing you away

you ended up finding that many so called fans started saying that you were the reason he lost his spark. watching sunghoon's en-logs and seeing him the background of episodes acting weirder than usual — fans were getting suspicious. did something happen between you two? did you guys breakup? now, it wasn't any of their business, but some fans didn't understand that. when sunghoon started seeing all the tweets and sour posts about you, he was angered.

sunghoon wanted to tell everyone that it was all wrong, that you weren't the one who made him loose his spark — it was them. the media. the pressure. that you were in fact the one who made him so joyful. but he didn't. he couldn't. the only thing he could do was to hope that you didn't check any of your social medias. without knowing it, he distanced himself until you both couldn't take it anymore. one thing led to the other and your relationship with the man who was supposed to be your future husband was gone. three words, eleven letters.

permanent taglist (open — send an ask to be added) ; @ms-no1kpopstan @naespas @kyoaeri @copyhanni @lilacnini

#⎯ 박성훈 ( hoon ) ㅤ✧ ࣪ 🐧 #enhypen #enha #enhypen au #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enha fluff #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhablr #my works! ˙✧˖⋆｡˚ #sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon angst #park sunghoon #sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon fluff #enhypen sunghoon #enha scenarios #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon smut #sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon smau #enhypen smau #enhypen x reader

[wholoveseggs]

Maybe an elijah x Reader where the Reader is a bit shy about sex and really wants to try out face riding, but is insecure about her weight like that she's scared she'll hurt him or something like that. So somehow elijah finds out (for example thru a dream which he enters) and does it, but she'll try to pull away at the beginning still scared of hurting him and he'll pull her down.

If possible with lots of praise, overstimulation, elijah being dominant, hand kink, sir kink, elijah being a sweetheart, and aftercare?

Soft

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You've been dating Elijah for a while, but your insecurities keep you from taking things further. But one night, Elijah finally gets the chance to show you how much he loves your curves.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @magicaleaglecloud, I've written a similar fic on this subject called Reminder, but I love this idea so much I'm happy to write more. ♡♡

♡♡ This once again goes out to all my thick thighed brothers and sisters! ♡♡

3.4k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, oral sex, sex dreams, insecure reader, body issues, soft dom!elijah, slight sir!kink, face sitting, fingering, little bit of spanking, tinsy bit of overstim, a fun history fact about beauty standards, praise, kisses & lots of sweetness ♡♡♡

You were beyond nervous, and it showed. You and your boyfriend Elijah Mikaelson had been dating for the last year, and while you loved each other and you wanted to sleep with him, you had been putting it off.

It wasn't anything to do with him, of course. It had everything to do with your insecurities. You didn't fit the current beauty standard. You weren't as skinny as some of the girls Elijah had been with before you. Your hips and thighs touched, you had a stomach, and your breasts were bigger than you liked.

And while you had seen Elijah's eyes roam your body whenever you were with him. You couldn't help but wonder if he secretly felt the same.

You knew you couldn't hold off forever. The thought of being so naked and exposed was beyond scary. But you wanted to be with him in every sense of the word. And you knew you needed to get over yourself.

The plan was to stay the night at his place, a big step for the two of you. You would be spending the night with him. Sleeping in the same bed. And maybe, hopefully, doing other things.

You spent far too much time getting ready, making sure your skin was as flawless as possible, and your hair was just right. You packed the sexiest sleepwear you owned, a deep blue satin nightgown that fell mid-thigh.

Elijah had made reservations at your favorite restaurant, and the entire meal had been magical. Although, you didn't want to eat a lot in front of him. There was always so much shame around your body, and you didn't want him to see it.

"So I'm thinking we can have some wine and relax. Maybe watch a movie or two," Elijah said as he parked the car in front of his house.

"Sounds great." You smiled and took a breath, trying to calm yourself down.

He took your hand, sensing your unease, you were so beautiful and lovely, and he couldn't understand why you were so hard on yourself. He never wanted you to feel that way.

The evening had been perfect. You watched movies, you talked, and you drank the wine, and you felt the tension slowly slipping from your body. He kissed you and it had quickly grown passionate, his lips moving down your neck and you moaned his name.

You weren't sure how it happened, but he was suddenly on top of you, and the feel of his large frame pressed into yours had been amazing. But you felt your anxiety start to bubble to the surface.

"Elijah, wait," you said softly, gently pushing against his chest.

"What's wrong?" He asked, immediately concerned.

"I'm sorry, it's nothing. I just...can I have a moment?" You said, feeling a mix of embarrassed and scared.

"Of course," he said, getting up and allowing you to move from the couch. "Let's go back to the bedroom. We don't have to do anything."

"I'm sorry." You said as he pulled you into his arms, kissing the top of your head.

"Darling, there is nothing to be sorry about." He said, leading you to his bedroom. "Why don't you get ready for bed? I'm going to take a shower," he said, sensing that you needed a moment alone.

You smiled, feeling like you could breathe. You loved him so much. You were so lucky to have him.

You changed into your nightgown and pulled out your lotion and went about the process of rubbing it into your legs and arms.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in his floor length mirror, and your insecurities came rushing back.

The material clung to you in all the wrong ways. It hugged your hips and stomach and breasts. You frowned, hating the sight. You quickly pulled the blankets down and crawled into bed. There was no way you could let him see you like this.

You tried not to cry, feeling such shame and humiliation, you decided to just sleep and pretend the evening didn't happen.

When Elijah returned, you had fully fallen asleep. He frowned slightly, wishing he could read your mind, wishing he could know what to say. You were so beautiful. How could you not see it?

He slipped into bed beside you and smiled when you instinctively curled into him. You looked so peaceful, and he didn't have the heart to wake you.

The blankets were pulled down a bit, the swell of your breasts clearly visible. And it was impossible not to look.

He loved your body. He loved your curves. He loved the way you felt in his arms. So soft and warm.

You made a quiet little noise and pressed closer to him, and he felt himself harden. It was impossible not to.

Your eyes were moving under your eyelids and your breathing was uneven. Your hands gripped at him, pulling him closer.

"Are you dreaming, my beautiful girl?" Elijah said, brushing the hair away from your face.

"Hmm, Elijah," you moaned quietly, your hips moving and pressing into him.

He smiled, curious about what was going on in your mind, wondering what you were dreaming about.

"Fuck," you said, moving your hips again.

He couldn't help it, he had to know.

His hand gently caressed the side of your face, and then he slowly pressed into your mind, feeling the sensations your dream was causing.

He saw you straddling his face, your hands gripping the headboard, and he could practically taste you on his tongue. You were completely unbidden, your beautiful body bouncing above him, and his large hands gripped your hips.

Elijah pulled out of your mind, groaning at the vision.

"Mm, please," you whimpered, and he was so tempted.

He looked down, your nipples were straining against the material of your gown. Your eyebrows arched, and you moved against him.

"Elijah." You sighed his name, and it was too much.

He couldn't possibly leave this fantasy of yours to the dream world. He had to give you what you needed.

He whispered your name, gently biting down on your earlobe, and you woke with a gasp.

"Elijah." Your voice was thick and sleepy, and it did things to him.

"Did you have a good dream?" He said, kissing along your neck and sucking lightly on your pulse point.

"Yes." You moaned, unable to deny it.

"Tell me," he said, pulling the blankets back, his hands roaming over your body.

"You...we..." You moaned, unsure of how to tell him.

He kissed down your neck, his hands moving down to grip your ass and pull you against him.

"You are so sweet and shy. It's adorable." He smiled, loving the way you blushed.

He started kissing his way down your body, and it was clear where he was headed. His hands dipped under your gown and pushed the material up and over your breasts.

"Elijah." You moaned, trying to cover yourself.

"No." He said, taking your wrists and placing them by your sides. "Don't hide from me. I want to see all of you."

You nodded, closing your eyes as he kissed along your breasts and took a nipple into his mouth. You moaned, arching up into him, loving the way he felt against you.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his lips ghosting over your skin.

He moved further down your body, and his hands gripped your thighs, gently pulling them apart. His lips ghosted over your stomach and you felt yourself tensing up.

"Elijah," you whispered, wanting to stop him, but the feel of his mouth so close to where you were aching for him was too much.

He gently bit down on the soft flesh of your thighs, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin.

"So fucking sexy." He said, looking up at you, his eyes full of lust.

"Wait," you said, sitting up and covering yourself, "I...you don't have to."

He pushed you back down, grabbing your wrists and holding them by your sides.

"Stop. Please, my love. Don't be ashamed." He said, kissing the swell of your stomach and moving further down.

"But..." you moaned, feeling his mouth between your legs, and your words died in your throat.

His mouth was gentle and slow, and he teased your clit, taking his time with you. His tongue moved in lazy circles, and he gently sucked, making you squirm and moan his name.

"Fuck, you taste so good." He groaned, loving the way you moved.

His fingers replaced his tongue and he pushed two inside of you. Moving up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

"Tell me what you like," he said, moving his fingers slowly, wanting to see what made you squirm.

"I like...when you do that." You gasped, his fingers moving deeper and hitting a spot that had you seeing stars.

He kissed along your neck, and he gently nipped at your pulse point, and he could feel your heartbeat quicken.

"You like my fingers baby?" He said, and his words were doing things to you.

"Mmhmm." You moaned, closing your eyes and giving in to the pleasure.

He started moving his fingers faster, curling them with each thrust. And then he pushed a third finger inside of you, stretching you open, and his thumb moved in slow circles over your clit.

"Fuck, oh god. Don't stop. Please." You begged, rocking your hips.

"You're so beautiful. I love the way you move." He said, his hand moving down to grip your thigh and hold you open.

"Please. Please. Fuck, I need..." You gasped, and his mouth covered yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, and he swallowed your moans.

"You need to cum, is that it, sweet girl?" He asked, and you couldn't believe he was saying these things to you.

"Please, sir." You moaned, and the word slipped out before you could stop yourself.

He grinned, loving the way it sounded, and he wanted to hear it again.

"Cum for me, now." He said, his fingers moving faster, and his thumb pressing against your clit.

The combination was enough to send you over the edge, and the orgasm was powerful, leaving you a shaking mess, moaning his name.

You opened your eyes, and you could see him staring at you. Your cheeks flushed, and you closed your eyes.

"Open your eyes." He commanded, and you obeyed, meeting his gaze.

"There's my beautiful girl. Now, come sit on my face."

"What?" You were sure you heard him wrong.

"Sit on my face. Now." He repeated.

"I...um..." You started, but he cut you off, grabbing your hips and moving you above him.

"That's a good girl." He said, helping you place your knees on either side of his face.

You were trembling, scared that you were too heavy. That the angle was wrong. You wanted to cover yourself. You were so vulnerable like this.

"I said sit." He said, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you down onto his mouth.

"Oh god." You gasped, unable to control the movement of your hips as his tongue started to lick at you.

It was too much. You couldn't take it. Your hands gripped his hair, and his hands grabbed your ass, pulling you down onto him.

You didn't know how he was breathing, but he didn't stop. He smacked your ass hard and growled, and the vibration was intense.

"Good girl, just like that." He said, and his praise went straight to your core.

You moved against him, not caring how desperate you looked, or how unsexy you must have appeared.

"That's it, fuck my face. Take what you need." He said, watching as your body responded to him.

You didn't even know it was possible to orgasm again that quickly, but his tongue was magic, and you were falling apart above him.

You grabbed the headboard, unable to hold back, and his fingers dug into your hips.

"Fuck, I can't. Elijah." You moaned, and the orgasm was more intense than the first one.

Your body was shaking, and he didn't stop. His tongue moved inside of you, and his nose brushed against your clit, the sensation overwhelming.

"Too much!" You said, trying to move away.

He held you in place, smacking your ass, and making you gasp.

"I decide when it's too much," he said, and there was something in his voice that left you shaking.

"Yes sir," you said, your voice a breathy whisper.

He groaned, his tongue moving faster. You moved your hips, matching his rhythm. And the next orgasm was so intense that your knees almost gave out.

"Such a good girl. Come here." He said, moving you down his torso so that your head was resting against his chest, and you were a sweaty, trembling mess.

His hands were all over your body, feeling every curve, every soft place. His lips moved against yours, and you could taste yourself on him.

You were still trying to catch your breath, and your entire body was shaking. You sat up, suddenly very self-conscious, your thick thighs straddling his waist.

"You are so sexy." He said, sitting up and kissing your neck.

"Really?" You asked, surprised and embarrassed, you never felt that way about yourself.

"You have no idea." He said, his hands moving down your back.

He gripped your ass, and his hips moved up, and you could feel his hard length pressing into you. The way his dark eyes watched you had you squirming. His hands moving to push the straps of your nightgown down.

"I want to see all of you. Can I take this off?" He asked, and he was so sweet and kind, and it only made you fall in love with him even more.

"Okay." You nodded, and his hands pulled the material up over your head, tossing it aside and exposing you completely.

"Perfect." He said, his eyes roaming your body.

"Elijah." You whined, covering your breasts, but he took your hands and held them at your sides.

"Let me look at you. I want to see how gorgeous you are. So beautiful." He said, his words were a complete contradiction to the way you felt.

"I'm not," you said, hating the way his eyes were taking you in.

Elijah shook his head, kissing you softly, his hands moved along your body, caressing every inch of you.

"You are." He whispered, and his words were almost convincing.

You shook your head, trying to pull away, but he wrapped his arms around you and held you close.

"Did you know that in the 16th century, women with curvy bodies were considered more beautiful than thin women? In fact, there is a painting from the 1700s by Antonio Canova called The Three Graces, and the figure on the right is considered to be the most beautiful because of her curves."

"Elijah." You couldn't help but laugh at him.

"My sweet girl, I am not trying to convince you of something that you are not ready to believe. But I will always find you the most beautiful woman in the world." He said, kissing your forehead.

You felt yourself blushing and tears were threatening to fall.

"Don't cry," he said, his hands moving along your back, trying to soothe you.

"I'm not, it's just..." you took a breath, unsure of what to say.

"Come here," he said, gently rolling you onto your back and positioning himself above you. "I can show you."

"What?" You asked, a little confused, but the look in his eyes had you curious.

"I can show you how much I love your body. If you'll let me."

"Yes," you nodded, knowing there was no way you could tell him no.

"Good girl." He said, and you could feel the blush on your cheeks.

He kissed you, his lips moving along your neck, and down to your breasts. He kissed each one and moved lower.

"I love the way your breasts fit in my hands." He said, gently kneading the soft flesh and sucking a nipple into his mouth.

"Elijah." You whimpered, and his hands moved to grab your ass.

"I love the way your curves fill out my hands." He said, moving lower and kissing the swell of your stomach, his fingers dipping into the indentation of your belly button, and making you giggle.

"Elijah, please."

"I love the way your thighs are soft and smooth." He said, gently biting the soft flesh and making you moan.

"I love the way your body responds to mine. The way you moan my name." He said, pushing his boxers off, and taking his hard length into his hand, and stroking himself.

"Elijah." You bit your lip, watching him.

"I love the way my cock fits perfectly between your legs." He said, spreading your legs and moving to rest his length against you.

"I love the way your hips are the perfect shape for my hands." He said, grabbing them and holding them tightly.

"I love the way my body feels against yours." He said, moving so that he was pressing into you.

He kissed you, and his hands moved to grab yours, holding them by the sides of your head.

"And I love the way my name sounds on your lips." He whispered, and his cock pushed into you.

He buried his face in your neck, his hands squeezing yours, and his body pressed into yours. You could feel every muscle tensing, and his heart racing.

"I love you, so much," he said, and the words had never been more real.

You wrapped your arms around him, and the moment was pure and uncomplicated. It was everything you needed, and more.

"Elijah," you sighed his name, and it was all the words you couldn't say.

He smiled, moving his hips slowly, his movements controlled and measured. You could feel every inch of him. You had never felt anything so amazing in your life.

You were overwhelmed, the feelings of pleasure mixing with the emotions coursing through your body. You could feel the tears slipping down your cheeks, and he wiped them away, kissing your face.

He pulled your legs back, pressing your knees to your chest, and his cock hit a spot that had you moaning.

"Good girl." He moaned, his thrusts growing faster, and the pleasure was almost too much.

Your body was shaking, and his movements were getting sloppy. His breathing was labored, and his words were a jumbled mess.

He reached down, his hand finding your clit, and he started rubbing slow circles, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

"Cum for me." He commanded, and the orgasm hit you hard, your nails digging into his back, and your legs wrapping around him.

"Eli-" You cried out, your voice high-pitched and needy.

His name was a breathy moan, and he could barely hold on. He needed you to cum, needed to feel you clenching around him.

"That's my girl." He moaned, his hips slamming into yours. You could feel him losing control, his cock pulsing inside of you.

He couldn't hold on, the pleasure was too much, and the way you were squeezing his cock had him tumbling over the edge.

His hand found yours, and he intertwined his fingers with yours, his hips slowing, and his eyes met yours.

You didn't know how long you stayed like that, just enjoying the closeness, and the way your bodies were entwined. You wanted to stay in the moment forever. You could feel his heart beating, and his breath on your skin. He eventually got up and grabbed a warm washcloth, cleaning you both, and then crawled back into bed, pulling you close, and wrapping you in his arms. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, and he was worried that maybe he had hurt you. That he had been too rough, or that he had pushed you too far. But you were smiling, and you were happy, and the way your body had responded to him was everything he had hoped for.

"Yes. I'm perfect." You said, and he could see the way the light was reflecting in your eyes, and the smile on your face. He kissed you, his hand cupping your face, and his tongue tangling with yours.

He made you feel so loved and cared for. He made you feel like you were the most important person in his life. Like nothing else mattered.

And for the first time, you felt worthy of his love. A love you always deserved.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahmikaelsonsboy ♡ @rosecentury ♡

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

[erwinsvow]

imagine if rafe and pogue reader’s relationship was just a bet between him and his kook friends, to see if he could ACTUALLY get her to fall in love with him, like to get her to be all over him and how long that would last, and the reader finds out omgggg. And they break up lol

you think the ending bits of the conversation between your boyfriend and his friends hurts more than everything you just overheard.

"you really think i'd settle for some fuckin' pogue pussy? nah man, top owes me fifty bucks now."

you hadn't heard the entire exchange, just from the part where you heard your name. stupidly, like a naive girl in love with the type of boy she'd only ever dreamt about, you tuned in, thinking rafe was telling his friends something you'd want to hear.

hiding—as embarassing as it is—behind the wall, holding back tears though they don't care enough to stay held back, they pour down your cheeks as the hits keep coming. the boys laugh, but the ringing in your ears had been so loud you hadn't heard the rest of the joke, didn't understand what was so funny.

the first thought in your mind is that you can't believe how stupid you were. the second is that pope and jj and john b had all been right, that it was too good to be true, that he was playing you somehow, that he was a liar and scumbag. you had ignored what your best friends had been telling you, trying so hard to believe that they were wrong, that they didn't know rafe, or at least your rafe, the one who was sweet and funny and never let you drive anywhere or pay for a thing, the one who paraded you around town like you were something who deserved to be showed off, the one who you took back to your tiny house and introduced to your hard-working parents.

you resist the urge to slide down the wall you're leaning against, though every muscle in your body wants to keel over and cry until you can't cry anymore.

you'd been embarassed enough—they didn't need to see you like this too. wiping away tears with the back of your hand, sniffling but trying to stay quiet, you wait for the boys to walk away so you could sneak out of here and pretend that you'd never even come—though you'd only come because rafe said he was having friends over and you'd baked them some snacks for their game, thought you were being a good girlfriend and doing the things a good girlfriend does.

footsteps and laughter echo in the other room—they're gone. the second it's silent, a sob wrangles itself out, eyes getting blurry again. you don't know how you're gonna bike home if you can't stop crying. your fingers fly across your screen, dialing jj's number. you'd been upset at the blond because he seemed to be the most against you and rafe dating, had the meanest things to say and was the first to insinuate there was something wrong if rafe wanted to date you.

you'd been so insulted, so hurt by his words that the two of you had gone from talking every single day to maybe once a week. you hope he doesn't hold it against you now, but a part of you knows jj never would—that's just the kind of guy he is. he answers by the second ring, and you try to stay quiet, just incase they hear you.

"j? can you come get me? i-um, i'm at tannyhill-" the last part is said with another sob, breaking into a fit of tears again. he says he's with pope and that he's coming, and you hate that they heard you cry, because knowing the two of them they'll go thirty over if they think you're upset. you wanna get out of here, but you don't want them to die.

heart thudding, eyes watery, limbs weak, you stay against that wall for a moment. before you can make your way to the door, rafe's figure steps in to where you are. he sees you before you see him—shoulders shaking, hands wiping away tears.

when you turn to look at him, it doesn't take more a second to know you heard something you shouldn't have.

"hey, listen to me-" he gets closer, and you flinch, backing away. you want to say something mean, something snarky, something that'll hurt him as much as he's hurt you. nothing comes out, and you stare back at him, and you hope he remembers how hard he's made you cry, because you've decided it then and there—you're never seeing rafe cameron ever again.

you dart past him to the door. he follows, reaching out to grab you, but you take off, running down his driveway and into the truck he recognizes as heyward's. you get in, in between pope and jj. the last thing he sees is you crying into maybank's chest while they drive you away, and the last thing he thinks is wondering what the hell he had just done.

#i actually dont like writing much angst so sorry if this sucks #this ask has been here for so long and i knew i could do something with it i just couldnt place it yet #<3 i love u jj #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

[pockettwinzz]

Against All Odds - L.HS

𝜗ৎSynopsis𝜗ৎ : Heeseung and Yn had never been on good terms with eachother. Yn had always like Heeseung, but Heeseung hadn't really realised how much he liked her until that one night...

𝜗ৎWarnings𝜗ৎ : MDNI, Smut, degradation words {slut, whore, etc}, Heeseung is kinda toxic, sadistic scenes {as always T.T}, Second ml syndrome, unprotected sex {naurr}

𝜗ৎAuthor's note𝜗ৎ : So it was supposed to be released 2 days agobut tumblr didn't save my draft so i basically re-wrote a lot of scenes and it turned out really rushed and i'm really sorry for that. And this is also my first fic exceeding over 2k words ^^ dividers and moodboard are by @dollywons

𝜗ৎWord count𝜗ৎ : 7.6 k {TT TT}

It had been years since I last saw Heeseung. We had grown up together, attending the same schools, sharing the same classrooms, and even living on the same street. But that all changed when we turned 18. Something had snapped inside of him, and he suddenly became this intolerable asshole who seemed to enjoy making my life a living hell. He knew I liked him and he'd always use it against me. He'd just fuck me and just disappear. I didn't understand it then, and I still didn't now, as I stood in front of the mirror in my dorm room, getting ready for the college welcome party.

I had been hesitant to go at first, mostly because I was afraid of running into him. But my friends had practically dragged me there, promising me that there were plenty of other people to meet and have fun with. And so, here I was, in the middle of a crowded room filled with strangers, trying to focus on the music and the laughter around me, while my mind kept drifting back to him.

Just then, a familiar voice cut through the noise, and I felt my heart skip a beat. It was him. Heeseung. He looked different somehow, older and more confident. His features were sharper, more defined, and he carried himself with an air of arrogance that I couldn't quite place. He was talking to a group of people I didn't recognize, laughing at something they must have said, and for a brief moment, I felt a strange mix of anger and jealousy rise up inside me.

But then, something unexpected happened. He glanced in my direction, our eyes meeting for the briefest of moments, and there was something in his expression that I couldn't quite decipher. It wasn't hatred, or anger, or even disdain. It was… something else. Curiosity, maybe? Before I could process it further, he turned away, returning to his conversation with his new friends.

A wave of confusion washed over me, and I found myself struggling to breathe as I tried to understand what had just happened. Why did he look at me like that? And why did it feel like my heart was about to burst out of my chest? I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

As the night went on, I found myself constantly glancing in his direction, watching him interact with others, trying to decipher the enigmatic expression that had been etched onto his face earlier. He was charismatic and engaging, and people seemed to gravitate towards him effortlessly. And yet, there was something about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Something that made me feel both drawn to him and repulsed at the same time.

I must have been staring at him for too long, because suddenly, someone handed me a drink. Before I could ask what it was, the fruity liquid went down my throat, and an unexpected warmth spread throughout my body. I felt a newfound sense of confidence wash over me, and with it came the urge to approach him. To say something, to break the ice. But what could I possibly say to someone like him?

I took another sip of my drink, trying to steady my nerves as I made my way through the crowd towards him. His back was to me, and for a brief moment, I considered just turning around and going back to my friends. But something inside me refused to let go of this absurd desire to confront him. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or maybe it was the years of pent-up anger and frustration finally bubbling to the surface.

And before I knew it, the alcohol took over my sanity. With a deep breath, I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, his expression unreadable as he looked at me. For a moment, neither of us said anything. I could feel the blood pounding in my ears, and my heart raced as I searched for something to say. Anything to break the silence.

"Hey," I managed to choke out, my voice sounding strangely thick in my ears. "Remember me?"

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused by my drunken bravado. "Should I?" he drawled, his voice smooth as silk.

I couldn't help but feel a flash of anger at his arrogance. "You remember me, don't you?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're exaggerating" he said, waving his hand dismissively. "I barely remember you."

I felt a stab of anger course through me as I realized I had been hoping for some sort of apology, some acknowledgement of the pain he had caused. But it seemed I was wrong.

"Well, maybe you don't remember me, but I remember you," I said, my voice shaking with emotion. "I remember every single time you called me names, every single time you pushed me around, every single time you made me feel like I wasn't good enough. Every single time you'd leave me alone and just disappear"

His expression turned mockingly sympathetic, and I felt a hot flush of anger course through me. "Is that so?" he drawled. "And what makes you think that any of that matters now?"

"Because it does matter!" I exclaimed, my voice rising. "It mattered then, and it matters now. You may think you're all grown up and sophisticated now, but you can't just walk away from the things you've done."

He laughed, shaking his head. "You really are something else, aren't you? Still holding onto the past like it means something."

I felt a sting of hurt at his words, but I refused to let it show. "The past shapes who we are, you know," I said, my voice steady despite the alcohol. "And you can't just pretend it never happened."

He snorted derisively. "Well, you're hardly in any position to judge me," he sneered. "Look at you, wasted and pathetic. Drunk off your ass at your own party."

I felt a stab of pain at his words, but I refused to let him see it. Instead, I smiled sweetly and took another sip of my drink. "You're right," I said, nodding slowly. "I am wasted. But you know what? It feels good to finally stand up to you, even if it is in a drunken haze."

"You're so fucking pathetic" He laughed, shaking his head. "Still so angry, still so… consumed by the past. You really think I give a shit about any of this?" He took a step closer, his breath hot against my ear. "Look at you, drunk and pathetic. Just like the old days."

He pulled me by my waist, closer to him, "Aren't you still the slut who wants to beg for my cock?"

 He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my neck. "You think you're someone important, someone who can stand up to me?" He said as he nibbled the flesh around my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "You're still just a pathetic little whore, just like you always were."

I couldn't help but fall into his manipulative touch again. It was as if I was drawn to the pain, as if I needed him to hurt me in order to feel alive. I let out a soft moan, arching my back against him as he continued to nibble and suck at my neck. His hands moved lower, cupping my ass and grinding me against his hard length. The alcohol seemed to fog my thoughts, making it difficult to focus on anything but the sensation of his body against mine.

--

So here we were, in Heeseung's house. I had no idea how we even ended up her but all I could feel right now were  his fingers tracing patterns on my skin, making me shiver. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear, and whispered, "You're such a slut for me."

And just like that, something inside me snapped. It was like a switch had been flipped. All of a sudden, I didn't care about how much I hated him or how much he pissed me off. I didn't care how I was letting him have me so easily, how wrong this was. All I could think about was how good it would feel to have him inside me. How right it would feel to have him claim me again, even if just for this one night.

I arched my back, pressing my bare chest against his, and whispered back, "You know I am, Heeseung." And before I could even process what was happening, his hand found the hem of my shirt and yanked it over my head.

My breath hitched as his eyes roamed over my bare skin, tracing the lines of my collarbone and the swell of my breasts. He cupped one of them in his hand, thumb teasing at the peak of my nipple. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, and then his lips were on me, sucking gently at my nipple while his fingers worked their magic, rubbing and teasing until I was moaning into his mouth.

He eased me back onto the bed, his body pressing against mine, and I could feel his erection against my thigh. Heat pooled low in my belly, and I spread my legs wider, inviting him in. "Fuck me," I breathed, and he groaned, sliding his hands down to my hips, lifting me up, and guiding himself inside me.

I let out a sharp cry as he filled me, the feeling of being so completely possessed by him sending a wave of pleasure through me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging my nails into his back, and he started moving, his hips thrusting in a rhythm that was as familiar to me as my own heartbeat.

"S-so fucking tight" his voice ragged and low, and I could feel myself growing closer and closer to the edge. I could feel the tension building inside me, coiling tight, and I knew I was going to come soon, so I arched my back, meeting each of his thrusts with a moan, urging him on.

And then he groaned, his body tense as he released himself deep inside me, and I felt the first wave of my orgasm crash over me, shattering every nerve ending in my body. His name was on my lips as I came, and he seemed to draw strength from it, his hips moving faster, harder, until I could feel another orgasm building, ready to explode from deep within me.

He leaned down, capturing my lips in a fierce, possessive kiss, his tongue thrusting deep into my mouth as he continued to move, his body moving in perfect rhythm with mine. I could feel the muscles in his back flex and relax as he powered into me, each thrust driving me closer and closer to the edge.

As I neared my second climax, he began to whisper dirty words in my ear, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down my spine."Such a slut for my dick, Aren't ya!".

"I hate you so much" I said, and it was in that moment that I realized how much I loved the way he made me feel. How much I loved the way he made me lose control. Although I wanted to hate him, but my body wouldn't agree.

And then he groaned, his body tensing as he came again, filling me up with his heat and his passion. His weight pressed down on me, holding me to the bed, and I could feel the aftershocks of our combined orgasms rippling through my body. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before rolling off to the side, his breathing still ragged and uneven.

For a moment, we lay there in silence, our bodies tangled together, and I could feel the warmth of his skin against mine. I wanted to hate him for the things he'd said, for the way he'd treated me, but in that moment, all I could think about was how good it had felt to be with him. How right it had felt to give in to the desire that had been building between us for so long.

---

The next morning I woke up to an empty space beside me. I rolled out of bed. The room was still spinning, my head pounding, and my body aching in places I didn't know existed. As I stumbled to the bathroom, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret for last night. Not for the sex, but for the way I'd let him get under my skin again.

I wore his hoodie along with his pants  as I made my way downstairs, the scent of him still clinging to the fabric. The apartment was quiet, and I could hear the faint sound of the TV coming from his room. I hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door. When there was no answer, I pushed it open and found him sprawled across the bed, his back to me, a remote control in his hand.

"Hey," I said, my voice barely audible.

He didn't respond, and for a moment I thought he hadn't heard me. But then he slowly turned his head to look at me over his shoulder. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked exhausted. There was a slight smile on his lips, and it made my heart ache.

"Hey," he repeated, his voice rough. "You look good in my clothes, But you look even better without them"

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at his words. "You're an asshole, you know that?" I said, trying to keep the anger in my voice. But the truth was, I didn't feel angry anymore. I felt confused.

He chuckled, sitting up a little more before looking me in the eye. "You love it, though," he said with a grin. "You know you can't resist me." His hand reached out to trace my cheekbone, and I felt myself lean into his touch despite everything.

I hated how easy of a target I was. How I always fell into his lousy trap but couldn't help myself. His touch, his words, they were like a drug to me, and I had no self-control when it came to them. But I couldn't let him see that. I had to keep some part of myself hidden, some part that wasn't just a slave to his whims.

 I pulled away from his touch, forcing a small laugh as I did so. "Oh, please. You're just as addicted to me as I am to you." I turned to walk back out of the room, but before I could take more than a step, he grabbed my wrist roughly, pulling me back against his chest. His other arm came around me, holding me tightly as he buried his face in my neck.

"You're right," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I am addicted to you. I can't get enough of you." His grip on me tightened, and I could feel the warmth of his body through his sweatpants. "But you know what?" he continued, his breath hot against my skin. "I want more. I want all of you." His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I could feel myself melting against him.

I wanted to tell him that I couldn't give him any more, that I was already giving too much. But the truth was, I didn't want to. I wanted to be his, even if it meant losing myself in the process. So instead, I closed my eyes and let him take whatever he wanted from me.

His lips found mine, soft and gentle at first, before growing more demanding. His hands roamed over my body, touching me everywhere as if he needed to feel every inch of me. The bed creaked beneath us as he pulled me on top of him, never breaking the kiss as he guided me down, his hips rising to meet me.

"H-heeseung I can't do this anymore." I said as tears filled my eyes. The truth was I wanted to be loved, and he was the only one who could give me that. But I couldn't keep giving him pieces of myself. I had to stop.

His hands stilled on my body, and he pulled back to look at me, confusion and hurt flitting across his features. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "You don't want this?"

I took a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain. "No."

He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Okay" he said as he let me go, sitting up and rubbing his neck. "I understand." There was a note of finality in his voice that made my heart ache. "I'll leave you alone."

--

It had been a few weeks since  I had seen him. We hadn't spoken or texted each other since that night in his room. I had tried to forget about him, to move on, but it was impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face, felt his touch. I knew I had been stupid to expect anything more from him, but the hope had been there, and now it was gone.

I'd seen him at college really often but anytime I'd try to look in his eyes, he'd turn away. It was as if he was ashamed of something. I knew I shouldn't have expected more from him, but it was hard not to. I missed the way he used to look at me, like I was the only one in the room. I missed the way he would touch me, like he truly wanted me. I missed him.

One day while walking to class, I feel someone bump into me. I turn around, to see who it was. It's this guy from my English class, Jake. He's always been nice to me, and I've always wondered what he looks like under that beanie. He smiles at me and says he's sorry, then asks if I'm okay.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I reply, looking him in the eyes. "Thanks for asking."

He smiles back at me, and there's something different about it this time. It's warmer, more genuine. Maybe it's just me, but I get the feeling that he's been watching me too. "You're looking good today," he says, glancing down at my outfit. "That color really suits you." His words make me feel self-conscious, but in a good way.

"Thanks," I reply, trying to hide the blush that's creeping up my neck. "I think you look pretty good yourself." I can't help but notice that he's dressed a bit differently today. His usual plaid shirt is gone, replaced by a button-down that shows off his broad shoulders. He looks...dapper, maybe? It's a strange word to think about him, but it fits.

He seems to notice me looking and grins. "Thanks, I was going for a different look today. You like it?" His confidence is endearing, and I can't help but smile back.

I caught Heeseung glaring at us like..... Like he was jealous. I couldn't help but feel something in my chest as I watched him watch them. He had been so possessive of me, even though I'd never been his. The way he would get angry when another guy would talk to me, the way he would insist that I was his and his alone. It was like living with a possessive, jealous lover. But I couldn't deny the fact that there was something about him that drew me in. Something that made me want him despite... everything.

As the days went by, I became really good friends with Jake although I knew he liked me, it was too obvious please. He was always there for me, making me laugh, making me feel wanted. I knew he was just as lonely as I was. He never made me feel pressured or uncomfortable. He was just...perfect. But for some reason I could never forget about Heeseung, the way  he used to make me feel, the way he made me want to be with him. It was like an addiction I couldn't shake off.

---

One night, after a particularly bad day, I found myself in the library, studying for an exam. I didn't even know why I was here, as I had already finished my work, but I just couldn't bring myself to go back to my empty dorm room. I was just about to leave when I hear a familiar voice calling my name.

It's Heeseung.

He looks different than I remember him. His hair is longer and messier, falling over his eyes in the most endearing way. He's wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, but he's not glowing like he usually is. I can't help but feel a mix of emotions as I look at him. Pain, regret, and...jealousy.

"Hey" he says, his voice rough and husky. "I've been meaning to talk to you." I want to run, to avoid this conversation, but something in his voice makes me stay. He walks over to me and takes a seat across from me at the table. "I've been a real jerk to you and I'm sorry." His apology catches me off guard. "I've been so wrapped up in my own head that I've been treating you like crap."

Heeseung looks at me, his eyes searching mine. "I've been thinking a lot about us lately, and I realize that I never gave us a chance. I was so convinced that there was nothing between us." He hesitates for a moment, swallowing hard. "But I was wrong. You deserve better than that. You deserve to be with someone who really sees you, who really wants you for you."

I can feel the weight of his words pressing down on my chest. A part of me wants to believe him, wants to take him back and forget about everything that happened between us. But another part of me is afraid. Afraid that he'll hurt me again, afraid that he'll push me away again and leave me again.

"I'm sorry, and that I want you to be happy. I want you to be with someone who deserves you." He pauses, looking at me intensely. "And I hope that person is Jake. He's a good guy, and he really cares about you."

As Heeseung walks away, tears fell out of my eyes as i sobbed. I still loved Heeseung, and I know I could never forget him, nor did I want to. I wanted to run out, hug him and  tell him that I missed him, but I knew it was too late. He had finally let me go. "This is what you wanted Yn" I said to myself in between my cries.

The next day at uni, I didn't know how to act around him. Part of me wanted to tell him that I still loved him, but the other part knew that it was better this way. We didn't talk much that day, but we didn't avoid each other either. It was almost as if we were both scared to face what had happened between us.

--

After class, I decided to go to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. As I'm sitting there, lost in my thoughts, I feel a presence beside me. I look up and it's Jake.

"Hey, you okay?" he asks, concern written all over his face.

I force a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just had a lot on my mind."

He nods, understandingly. "Want to talk about it?"

I shake my head, not really wanting to get into it. "It's just... stuff." I take a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain how I feel. "Heeseung and I had this thing, you know? We were really close, but then things changed. I don't know how to explain it."

Jake nods, his expression sympathetic. "I think I understand what you're going through. It's hard when feelings change, especially when you're so close to someone." He pauses, considering his next words carefully. "But you know, maybe it's not a bad thing. Maybe it means that there's someone else out there who's better for you."

I can't help but feel a tiny bit of hope at his words. It's true that I've been so focused on Heeseung that I haven't really considered anyone else. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that Jake has always been there for me. He's always been supportive and kind, and he makes me feel good about myself. But I knew I could never return his feelings to him.

"Thanks, Jake," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what I would've done without you."

He smiles at me, his brown eyes warm. "You don't need to thank me. I'm just here for you, you know? Whatever you need." He hesitates for a moment, then reaches out to take my hand. His fingers intertwine with mine, sending a shiver down my spine. "I've always been here for you, Yn. And I'll always be here for you, okay?"

"Thanks, Jake. I appreciate that more than you know." But just then I found Heeseung looking at us, he smiled but.... he looked sad and guilty. I looked away, not wanting to hurt Jake's feelings. But at the same time I wanted to be true to myself, cause I knew I wasn't over Heeseung.

----

Hours pass by in a blur, and before I know it, it's time to go home. As I gather my things, I can't help but feel a mix of emotions. On one hand, I'm happy that Jake is there for me, but on the other hand, there's a huge part of me that misses Heeseung. I wish things could be different, but I know they can't.

As I was leaving, Jake walks me to my car. The sun is setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. It's beautiful, yet somehow it only serves as a reminder of how my world feels like it's falling apart.

"Hey, you wanna hang out sometime?" Jake asks, his voice soft. "Maybe we could go see a movie or grab dinner or something?"

 "Thanks, Jake. I appreciate it but...." I trail off, unable to meet his eyes. "Look, I know you like me but I- I'm sorry Jake." I can't do this to him. I can't lead him on while I'm still in love with someone else.

He nods, understandingly. "I get it. You don't have to apologize. I'm just here if you ever want to talk or hang out or whatever." He smiles at me, but there's a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"Jake, you deserve someone better. Someone who actually loves you. Please forgive me." I say, biting my bottom lip.

He takes a step closer, cupping my face with his hands. "Yn, I don't care if you love me or not. I just want to be your friend. And if that's all I ever am to you, then that's okay. I'll be here, waiting for you, whenever you need me." His eyes search mine, trying to convey the depth of his feelings. He tried to smile but the sadness was evident in his eyes. "I hope things work out between you and.... Heeseung"

I smile at him, feeling a twinge of guilt for leading him on. "Thanks, Jake. You really are a great friend. I'm sorry for putting you through this." I lean in and hug him, grateful for his understanding and support.

As I pull away from the hug, I can't help but wonder if things will ever be the same between us.

Jake steps back, nodding toward my car. "Well, I should let you go. Take it easy tonight, okay?" He gives me a small wave as I climb into my car and start the engine. I wave back, watching as he turns and walks away.

The drive home is a blur. My mind is spinning with thoughts of Jake and Heeseung. I can't help but feel guilty for leading Jake on, even if he is my friend. And as for Heeseung, I don't know what to think. I still love him, but I can't deny that seeing Jake there tonight made me feel something too.

When I finally pull into my driveway, I'm exhausted both physically and emotionally. I climb out of my car, my muscles aching from the day's practice. The air is cool, the sky dark. The familiar scent of home fills my nose, but it doesn't bring the comfort I'm craving.

As I trudge up the steps to my front door, I can't help but feel like I'm drowning in a sea of confusion and conflicting emotions. I want to talk to Heeseung, to work things out with him.

---

"Fuck everything." i mumbled to myself, sitting on a bench, consumed by alcohol. I'm not even sure how many drinks I've had, but it's way too many. My head spins and my vision blurs. I just want to forget, to feel numb. But it doesn't seem to be working.

I feel a hand pat on my  shoulder, startling me out of my thoughts. I look up to see Heeseung standing there, looking down at me with a mixture of concern and confusion. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

I shrug, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, I'm fine." My words come out slurred, and I can tell he doesn't believe me. He kneels down in front of me, his eyes searching mine.

"You're not fine, Y/N. You're drunk. You shouldn't be out here alone." He reaches out and takes my hand, his grip firm but gentle. "Come on, let's get you inside." He pulls me to my feet, and I lean heavily against him, my head spinning.

As we make our way toward the front door, I feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence. He walks me over to the couch and carefully sits me down, making sure I'm stable. Then he disappears into the kitchen, only to return a moment later with a glass of water. "Drink this," he says, handing it to me.

"W-why?" I asked, my voice barely audible. "Why are you being so nice to me?" He looks at me with a hurt look.

"Because I care about you, Y/N. I'm sorry if I was always being so selfish, I never cared about your feelings but... ever since I let you go, I can't stop thinking about you. I miss you so much." He sighs, his voice raw with emotion. "I want to be with you, Y/N. I want to work things out between us. I don't want to lose you again. I want to try and work things out. I want to show you how much I've changed and how much I've grown. I want to be the person you deserve, the person you need."

He reaches out and cups my face in his hands, his eyes searching mine. "I love you, Y/N. I always have and I always will. Please, give me another chance. I promise I won't let you down again." His words echo in my head, washing over me like a warm summer rain. I can feel the weight of my emotions lifting, the fog beginning to clear.

As I look into his eyes, I know that I can't turn away from this feeling anymore. I can't deny the love that I have for him. "I love you too, Heeseung," I whisper, my voice barely audible even to my own ears.

He lets out a shaky breath, his grip on my face tightening just for a moment before he relaxes it again. "Thank you," he whispers back, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for giving me this chance."

He brought his face near to mine, his lips  brushing against mine so softly it sent a shiver down my spine. Our kiss was gentle at first, but it quickly deepened as we both surrendered to the overwhelming desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. His hands moved through my hair, cupping my head as he angled his mouth to fit perfectly with mine. I felt the heat from his body, the strength in his arms, and it all made me feel safe and protected.

I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my body against his, and moaned into his mouth as he explored every inch of it. He made a low growl deep in his throat, a sound that sent a thrill through me, and he began to kiss me more urgently. I could feel his heart pounding against my chest as our passion rose, and it made me want him even more.

As we continued to kiss, his hands wandered lower, moving over my hips and then up my sides, cupping my breasts through my shirt. I arched into his touch, moaning into his mouth, and he responded by pulling my shirt over my head in one swift motion. His lips found my bare skin, sucking and nipping at my sensitive flesh as he moved lower, kissing a trail down my neck and collarbone. I gasped and shivered under his touch, my fingers tangling in his hair.

He  pulled back, looking at me with lust-filled eyes. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, his voice raspy with desire. Then, with a swift movement, he swept me up into his arms and carried me over to the bedroom. The room spun as he lay me down on the bed, his weight pressing me into the mattress. His hands moved to the hem of my shorts, tugging them off in a single fluid motion.

He leaned down, his lips finding my center, and I cried out, arching my back off the bed. He teased me with his tongue, circling and probing until I was writhing beneath him. "Heeseung," I moaned, my voice barely audible. He smiled against my skin, his hand moving between my legs to find my clit. With his expert fingers, he began to stroke me, in time with his tongue, and I felt my orgasm building, growing closer with each passing second.

He straightened up, looking down at me, his eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful when you come," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. And then he leaned down, his lips finding mine once more as my orgasm crashed over me in a wave of pure pleasure. Our tongues tangled together, our bodies moving in perfect rhythm as we came together in this moment, this beautiful, intimate exchange of love and desire.

As the intensity of our kiss began to subside, Heeseung pulled back, gazing down at me with an expression of awe and wonder. His hands moved to my hips, gently spreading my legs, and then lower, cupping my bottom. He kissed me again, this time slower and more tender, his lips brushing against mine in a soft, teasing dance.

I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the softness of it against my fingertips. "You feel so good," I murmured, arching into him as he continued to kiss me. His response was to nip at my bottom lip, making me gasp, before moving his lips back to mine.

His touch was everywhere, possessive and gentle all at once. His fingers traced along my collarbone, teasing the sensitive skin beneath my breasts, and lower still, until they found the dampness between my legs. He circled my clit, making me shiver with anticipation, and then he pushed two fingers inside me, moving in a slow, steady rhythm.

I arched into his touch, my nails digging into his shoulders as I felt the familiar tightness building within me. He kissed me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine, and it felt like we were the only two people in the world. The world outside this bedroom faded away, replaced by the intense sensation of his skin against mine, the smell of him filling my nose, and the feel of him moving inside me.

He continued to thrust slowly, his rhythm matching the pace of our breath, and I could feel myself growing closer and closer to the edge. I whimpered into his mouth, my hips moving in time with his, urging him on. He moaned into the crook of my neck, his body trembling against mine as he neared his release.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at me with eyes that were dark with desire. "I want to feel you around me," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. His fingers left my body, moving lower to spread my folds open, revealing my wetness. Then he positioned himself at my entrance, guiding himself back inside.

As he sank deeper, I gasped, arching my back off the bed. He was so big, so full, and it felt incredible to have him inside me again. He began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm that matched the beat of my heart. His skin was hot against mine, his muscles tense as he fought to control his movements.

He brushed his lips against my neck, his teeth scraping gently over the sensitive skin. "You're so tight," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "It feels incredible." He pulled back slightly, then thrust forward again, burying himself deeper still. His movements grew more urgent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the pleasure built within him.

I arched my back, meeting his thrusts with my own, my nails digging into his shoulders as I felt myself begin to lose control. Heat pooled low in my belly, spreading through my body in a wave of pleasure that threatened to consume me. "Heeseung," I moaned, my voice hoarse from the intensity of the moment. "I'm close."

He growled, his movements becoming more urgent as he felt me begin to tighten around him. His hips slammed against mine in a rhythm that was as brutal as it was beautiful. He leaned down, capturing my lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue dancing with mine as he drove into me over and over again.

The sensation of being so completely filled by him was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. It felt like we were one, our bodies in perfect harmony, moving together as if we'd been practicing this dance our entire lives. My nails dug into his shoulders, leaving marks that would no doubt linger long after we'd parted, a reminder of this moment, this connection.

His movements grew more urgent as he neared his release, his hips slamming into mine with an intensity that left me gasping for air. The pleasure built within me, tightening my core, making every nerve ending tingle with anticipation. I arched my back, meeting his thrusts with my own, my body trembling with the effort to hold on to this feeling, to make it last just a moment longer.

He moaned into my neck, his muscles tensing beneath my fingers as he came, his hips bucking wildly against mine. I felt the hot spurts of his release deep inside me, and with a cry of pleasure that seemed to echo through the room, I followed him over the edge.

My body convulsed around him, my inner muscles squeezing tightly as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over me. I arched my back off the bed, feeling the familiar tightness in my core as my orgasm peaked and then began to slowly subside. He remained inside me, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to regain control.

His skin was slick with sweat, and mine felt sticky where we were pressed together. He withdrew carefully from my body, lowering himself to lie beside me. His lips brushed against my neck, leaving a trail of tiny, hot kisses as he traced the line of my collarbone with his fingertips. "That was incredible," he murmured, his voice still shaky from the intensity of our lovemaking. "I can't believe how good that felt."

I ran my fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, feeling the softness of it against my palm. "Neither can I," I whispered, looking up at him.

He smiled down at me, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I think," he said, his voice still rough with emotion, "I think I could stay like this with you forever." He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.

We fell asleep in  each other's arms, tangled together like two bodies meant to fit perfectly. The sheets were kicked off, revealing our entwined limbs and the line of his muscular back. I rested my head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my ear. The room was dim, the sunlight filtering through the curtains in a soft, golden glow

--

For the first time in a while I'd felt so good. It felt like everything was perfect now.

As the days went by, we settled into a comfortable routine. Waking up together, making breakfast in the small kitchen, and then spending the mornings exploring the city. We would hold hands as we walked, sometimes stopping to kiss in the shadows of an alleyway or nestled against a tree in a park. The warmth of his skin against mine, the softness of his lips on mine, it all felt so right.

One evening, as we sat at the small dining table eating takeout from our favorite Thai restaurant, Heeseung reached across the table and took my hand in his. His touch sent a shiver down my spine. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something," he began, his voice a little hesitant. "I've been thinking about what we're going to do with our lives now that we've graduated."

I looked up at him, feeling a knot forming in my stomach. "What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. His hands were shaking as he placed it on the table in front of me. "I've been thinking that maybe we should... maybe we should get married," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know it's sudden, but every time I look at you, I feel like I'm home. Like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."

My heart swelled at his words. It was a feeling so foreign, so overwhelmingly beautiful that for a moment I couldn't speak. I reached out, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it gently. "Heeseung, I-" I began, but he cut me off, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but it's like we're meant to be together. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else. I want you to be my wife, my partner, my best friend. I want to grow old with you, and I want to raise a family with you."

His words brought tears to my eyes, and I could feel the warmth of them spilling down my cheeks. I reached out, taking him in my arms, burying my face in his neck. "Of course I'll marry you," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I love you too."

He let out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around me tightly. "I love you so so much. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else."

I pulled back, cupping his face in my hands, and smiled at him through my tears. "Me neither. I love you, too, Heeseung. I would marry you a thousand times over."

He wiped away my tears with his thumbs, as he opened the box, he pulled out a small, elegant ring. The diamond glinted in the light, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat. "Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice trembling with emotion. "Will you spend the rest of your life with me?"

Tears streaming down my face, I nodded, unable to find my voice. I took the ring, slipping it onto the finger he held out, and felt a rush of happiness so intense it threatened to overwhelm me. He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, his lips soft and tender against mine. It was a kiss that spoke of promises and hopes and dreams, and I knew in that moment that no matter what challenges or obstacles lay ahead of us, we would face them together.

This was it. This was the moment I had been waiting for, the moment I had always hoped would come. As I looked into Heeseung's eyes, I could see the love, the devotion, and the promise of a future together. His words, his touch, his presence; they all made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world. And now, with his proposal ring glistening on my finger, I knew that this was real, that we were really going to spend the rest of our lives together.

We had faced so many obstacles since we met in college. I couldn't help but remember the old us, if only we had talked about things earlier, if only I told him about my feelings from the start, maybe we wouldn't have struggled so much. But all I  could do now was to cherish the moment we were in. It felt like a new beginning, a fresh start. Maybe we were meant to be, I mean getting married after all that happened between us! It's like we fought against all odds just to be here.

𝜗ৎTaglist𝜗ৎ : @cha-eui @alvojake @heeslut4life @wondipity @dollywons @wonlvkay @nyxtwixx @yeonzzzn @rikiwaify-blog @seokseokjinkim @heelovesmeknot @kimsunoops @heelvsted @kirinaa08

#pockettwinzz writes #haze <3 #enhypen #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #heeseung fluff #heeseung x yn #heeseung angst #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enha smut

[nyrasproblm]

LET THE WORLD BURN

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!reader (wife)

Word Count: 0,7K

Warning: possessive behavior

note: this short story is a failed attempt to write something based on the song below:

disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the music used as inspiration for this story.

You kept running as fast as you could, even though you somehow knew it would be useless. His fear spoke louder than his reason, the tears flowing freely down his face were proof of that.

Your knees were shaking slightly from all the time you ran, the hallways all looked the same. You always hated that about Harkonnen Fortress: everything looked exactly the same. Turning another hallway, you leaned against one of the walls to take a deep breath, still looking around with wide eyes.

Your husband's hoarse voice was still present in your ears, you thought you would never forget it.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

The sick psychotic man you were stuck with for the rest of your life. That thought made you shiver slightly. Feyd treated you well, as well as someone like him could, but then you perhaps abused his good faith, spending too much time with other people than with him, spending more time with other men, laughing with them. Feyd gave you a warning to stop it, or he would be seen as a weak husband who doesn't have his wife's respect, but you didn't listen, so he started being extremely violent, not physically and not towards you, of course.

Feyd seemed obsessed with you since before the wedding, the possessive behavior seemed to get worse.

You had only been married for about a couple of months and you couldn't take it anymore, Feyd would kill anyone for anything. Before it was just the servants, but then he started killing guards, officers working for his uncle, and one of his concubines. It wouldn't take long for your turn to come.

You should calm down and not think like that because at your wedding Feyd swore at the altar that he would protect you, but you knew that wasn't true.

You took comfort in the fact that if Feyd laid a finger on you he would answer to your father, and the alliance his uncle had formed with your planet would end. But tonight... tonight made you forget all that.

Feyd seemed more skittish than usual, aggressive. He had entered his quarters and was breathing heavily, his nostrils flared. You remained quiet, but it seems that your silence irritated him even more, he started throwing the furniture in the room, the dresser, the mirror, and turned to you. You could have sworn you saw his eyes red with anger, without waiting another second you ran away, getting lost in the maze of colorless corridors of this place.

Your thoughts returned to the present moment when you realized that you had been standing in the same place for a long time, Feyd could reach you if you stayed there. Walking back, you sighed heavily and groaned in frustration when you saw that the next hallway was exactly the same as the one you were in.

Before you could turn back and see if you could enter another hallway, a pair of muscular arms closed around you, your back pressed against his chest, warm and hard from years of training. You looked down and immediately recognized the hands with the fingers full of Feyd rings. Before he could scream, a large, calloused hand covered his mouth.

"I was too weak, I shouldn't have fallen in love with someone treacherous like you." his voice tickled your ear. "I let you get too close, that will change."

You struggled and tried to free yourself, but it was useless, Feyd was bigger and stronger from the years of training and fighting.

"I know you think you can get away, but I'm the only one." he tightened his grip. "I can't let you go, don't you understand?"

He released you and turned your body, making you face him, then pushed you towards one of the dark walls, you felt your back pressed against the cold stone. Then he pressed himself against you, pinning your arms to your sides, bringing your body closer to his.

"You don't understand, you don't understand what I would do for you, woman." he nuzzled your cheek and you held your breath. "I would burn the world down, I would burn the whole world down for you. It would just be you and me, you would call my name."

"Don't say that, Feyd..."

"If I can't have you, then no one else can." Looking into his eyes, you knew that was true.

You were his forever.

#writing #writers on tumblr #dune fanfiction #fem reader #feyd rautha #dune fic #feyd rautha fanfic #feyd rautha imagine #feyd x reader #feyd rautha x reader #Spotify #feyd x you #feyd oneshot

[ladyempty]

Yandere Maegor, Daemon and Aegon I reaction to Reader running away and marrying someone else and having children?? Please 😭😭

° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life. |

Aegon I

Aegon Targaryen I is the definition of a conqueror, courageous, intelligent and ambitious, with a friendly and captivating personality, easily lovable and admirable, but with few close friends. A certain air of enigma surrounded his figure, making people try to unravel him, attracted like moths by his light of monarchical dignity.

The king was comfortable and accustomed to sycophants, women dragging themselves for crumbs, or simply a single night in his bed. He was unfamiliar with something denied to him. He had "conqueror" in his name for a reason that went far beyond the submission of the other lords.

So it came as a complete shock when he was so bluntly denied when he approached you at one of the numerous banquets hosted by the royal family. At first, Aegon couldn't even process it, the features remained the same with a gentle smile and analyzing eyes and no words uttered. Like a person who was suddenly punched and in the first few seconds didn't understand or simply didn't know how to react. He just narrowed his purple eyes and watched you leave in an elegant bow.

The first time he was seriously denied, you hadn't done it to pique his interest, but rather to preserve your own honor, not wanting to be just another king's case knowing that he would return to Rhaenys at the end of the day. He admired this. If his plans were to push him away, you were not successful, you only made a dangerous obsession settle in your being.

He began to pursue you subtly, with gallant and courteous gestures, he urgently wanted to erase the first impression you had of him. Forcing the Targaryen to reveal his personality beyond the superficial, rambling for countless hours about some common interest and constantly summoning his presence, whether to read to him while I work or simply enjoy his warm presence.

And when his barriers were still not lowered, the king had to resort to more drastic measures, asking for her hand in marriage and making it clear that he would not accept being denied.

You would be softer when you were a wife and had duties towards him. The conqueror thought wrongly. Never in a thousand lifetimes did he expect you to run away. As soon as he found out, Aegon simply went crazy, the image made up of himself falling down the moment he threatened to destroy the entire seven kingdoms again if he didn't get you back.

Stone by stone, leaf by leaf. Everything was meticulously investigated by the countless guards spreading even through the most forgotten places by the gods. The Targaryen king became somewhat paranoid and easily irritated by his disappearance, not even Rhaenys could calm him down or change his mind. It was two years of pure torment.

Ah... When he finally found you in a small house in pentos... Married and obviously pregnant... It was like the world was open beneath your feet again. A loving feeling of betrayal. How dare you? Did you think that pathetic man could love you more than him?! How stupid.

He coldly killed her husband and none of her tears and pleas could change his mind. His heart was partially darkened by his betrayal. He won't forget anytime soon, you'll have to regain his trust to have the slightest amount of freedom. Countless guards will follow you closely, if you are even allowed to leave your quarters.

And your son? Don't worry, Aegon will assume paternity of the child even if it comes with rumors about having deflowered you before the wedding. It didn't matter. He just wouldn't let you mother a bastard or have that other man as a part of your life. Aenys was his heir anyway.

Maegor, The Cruel

You were certainly a very unlucky person to have caught the attention of the Targaryen king who was called cruel. You probably met at an event organized by him to celebrate one of his conquests, reaffirming his power and sovereignty as king, or you were one of his wives' ladies-in-waiting.

Whether you were from a big house, small house or even a commoner. It didn't matter. You were his the moment the king laid eyes on your enchanting figure.

Maegor was a man of few feelings, he didn't truly love any of his wives, it was lust mixed with the rational thought of creating heirs. But you were different, there was something special that made Maegor feel a bubbling sensation in his chest, a pleasant and addictive warmth like he had never felt before. It was something unfamiliar, one that he felt slightly hesitant to demonstrate or how to handle. But he just knew he wanted you and he would have you. At any cost.

Maegor was far from the definition of courteous, he knew little about the gallant arts or gentle love. Therefore, he had little knowledge about the courtship, the little he knew was from his mother's advice, who only knew about these things from the poets who surrounded Rhaenys.

Either way, he is not discreet. He doesn't even make an effort to appear less intimidating than he is. His eyes are fixed on you no matter the moment, his intimidating and darkening presence looming over you like a shadow. Once he even gave him a white fur coat, an animal he himself killed. It was his way of showing his interest. Something raw and rustic, without words, just proves to be worthy of you.

Either way, he wouldn't wait long. The moment he gets tired of waiting and the itch that grows in him is not relieved, he will attack. Demanding her hand in marriage from her, leaving no room for disagreement. He didn't expect you to run away in the middle of the night... Stupid little bird. Did you think he wouldn't come after you?

The man flew into a rage the moment he found out, destroying everything and everyone in his path, no matter if they were his wives, servants or important masters. Everyone should pay for his blinding rage. He turned the seven kingdoms into hell looking for you. A thick layer of blood, smoke, ash and corpse covering every corner of the kingdom.

And when he found you... Ah, dumb little bird, did he think he could hide for another year? Never.

He killed her husband the moment he saw the man, not even bothering to give him a painful death to pay for his crimes. He was as furious as a bull at the sight of any trace of red. He never thought about seriously hurting you, but he would have to punish you in a certain way to put you in your place. But his angry thoughts strayed the moment he caught sight of her swollen belly with a child.

A baby, that could and should be his. It was someone else's... It was an unforgivable betrayal. He could never fully forgive you. He would never forget or leave you alone for even a second.

He wouldn't kill the child, he would keep you away until you gave birth and then pretend that the child belonged to his lady-in-waiting, even if it was his child behind closed doors. It was a good way to keep tabs on you. Do you love your child? So better obey, you don't want something bad to happen, right?

Do not worry, dear. If you want to be a mother and wife so much, who would Maegor be to deny you that? You would be two things very soon.

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon was never a man to love madly, he fell in love a few times. He rolled from bed to bed without a fixed commitment, just looking for momentary fun and vague pleasures. He indulged in his desires without shame. Bad luck for you to have been so captivating. He was hooked on you the moment their eyes met his.

Any slight affection he ever had for other women and men was forgotten. For you he felt love. Real love that went beyond lust. After all, he had never touched you intimately and he already had such overwhelming feelings.What was it if not love? You were his only thought.The first thought when waking up and the last when going to bed.

And Daemon had no intention of hiding his affection. His hands constantly find their way to your shoulders or start from your waist, a touch that lingers on a simple handshake and a look so intense that it would make anyone else tremble in fear.

As expected, rumors were created questioning his honor and how terrible the prince was. When his father went to confront him, Daemon just smiled mischievously and just said he would marry you. To everyone's great surprise, after all, the Targaryen had demonstrated his unhappiness during his first marriage.

But you weren't like that woman uglier than a sheep. You were perfect in every aspect and in the very definition of the word. Something to be admired every day.

It was a strong, stunning blow when you disappeared during the night, your maids only finding cold, wrinkled sheets when they went to wake you up that morning.

Where in the seven hell were you? He would find you... You couldn't run away.

He destroyed, killed, tortured and threatened. He spent days flying with Caraxes to every corner of the seven kingdoms just to find you. Unsuccessfully. A long year without having your favorite addiction... You.

He drowned himself in e wine while you were gone, nursing a bubbling rage and constantly exploding at everyone, scaring even Viserys, who thought he had seen the worst side of his brother.

But nothing lasts forever. He found you. He invaded your home in Essos without hesitation. He didn't kill your husband at first because his stunned mind simply refused to understand that you had betrayed him in such a disgusting way.

But the moment she saw the little newborn baby in her arms. He understood everything.The black sister ran through her pathetic husband without mercy, blood spatter staining his robes in small crimson droplets.The cold, darkened eyes like never before were directed at you.

For a moment you feared for the baby's life, placing the small bundle against your chest to protect it.

"Don't worry, I would never hurt our son." He smiles as he says each word slowly. He would legitimize that child as his and didn't care what he would say. A good way to keep you behaved and not tarnish his bloodline with bastards. Obviously he would love his own children more with you, but he wouldn't show it so openly. You're lucky the child looks so much like you…

#yandere x reader #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #Yandere Maegor Targaryen #maegor Targaryen x reader #aegon the conqueror #yandere daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targeryan #Aegon the conqueror x Reader

[ldrfanatic]

promise.

theodore nott x fem!reader

synopsis - as you quite literally stumble upon the enigmatic persona of theodore nott, you unintentionally become entangled in the intrigue surrounding him

warnings - mentions of death, domestic violence, cursing, and alcohol consumption

considering a part two to this... I have a few cute ideas in mind.

the next part of thirteen is coming soon I'm like halfway through but in the meantime, here's this.

nav slytherin boys

Theodore Nott absolutely hated human interaction. He didn't want to be looked at or spoken too. And he most certainly did not want to be touched. In stark contrast to his best friend Mattheo's loud and boisterous personality, Theodore Nott was quiet. Reserved. He rarely ever spoke to anyone outside of his friend group, and even then he'd been known to simply pretend the rest of the world didn't exist on a whim. Yes, Theodore Nott hated people.

Theo was yanked from his thoughts as a figure slammed into him.

"I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed. The books and parchment in your arms had gone flying as you collided with someone else in the halls. When you were met with silence, you looked up and suddenly, Theo lost his train of thought. You'd ran into Theodore. The slytherin boy looked at you with a rather intense stare, but he didn't say anything.

He just stared.

Awkwardly.

Theodore stared at you as you rambled out apologies and phrase after phrase of complete nonsense. It was actually kind of cute. And it was the first time that someone had taken the time to talk to him properly since he'd been at hogwarts. Even teachers had given up on trying to engage him in conversation.

"There's a party tonight at Slytherin house. Be there." You stood gaping at Theo with your mouth slightly open. He figured you were fairly shocked at having heard him speak considering how scarcely he allowed words to fall from his lips.

Internally, Theodore grimaced at his own words. Years and years of barely speaking to anyone had obviously done nothing for his social skills. He racked his brain as he tried to recall his time in primary school so as to remember how to properly communicate.

"I mean, you can come. I-If you'd like that is." Once again Theo cringed as he tripped over his own tongue. It felt unnatural to stutter. He'd never stammered over his words like that. But there was something about that unhinged his soul. He hadn't quite figured out if he enjoyed it or not but this party was the perfect excuse to get closer to you while he studied the affects you have on him.

"I'll be there." You offered him a smile that made his heartbreat thrum in his ears.

“Promise?”

The word tumbled out of him before he could stop himself. He watched as your brows furrowed curiously. After all, it was quite an odd thing to make someone promise. But you didn’t question it.

“I promise.”

Your words meant everything to him. Theo closed his eyes in a manic attempt to calm his thoughts, and when he opened them, you were gone. Odd. Perhaps he'd imagined the whole thing.

Or perhaps not.

In fact, as he looked at over by the snack table casually conversing with Pansy Parkinson, Theo was certain he hadn't imagined the interaction. Even more so when you turned and smiled at him apparently feeling his gaze on you.

He watched as Pansy muttered something to you that had you looking curiously over at him. You pointed at him and cocked your head slightly sideways (an adorable action that made Theo's heart beat too fast). Just as quickly as you'd done it, you shrugged at Pansy and took a sip of the juice in your hand.

For the second time that day, Theodore was jarred from his thoughts.

Mattheo's hand knocked onto Theo's shoulder.

"Hello? Anyone home?"

When Theo turned to look at the boy, he wasn't surprised to see that he was intoxicated. Mattheo often found solace in drugs and alcohol, something Theo didn't quite understand. No. He preferred to be calm and in control.

Mattheo carried on, not expecting Theo to respond.

"So who's the girl?"

Theo flashed Mattheo a feigned confused look that he knew Mattheo saw right through.

"Oh don't give me that bullshit. You know the girl that you're staring holes into?"

When his friend continued to ignore him, Mattheo pulled back so he was standing up mostly straight and set his beer down on the table in front of the couch with a rather loud thunk.

"Fine. If you have no interest in her then surely you won't mind if I make her my next conquest. She is quite pretty."

Mattheo didn't make it two steps before Theodore was harshly shoving him aside until his bum found the couch. "Stay away."

The dark haired boy smirked up at him. It was pretty clear that Theo had some sort of feelings for you well beyond what he normally thought of pretty much anyone else.

In their own little world, the two hadn't noticed you and Pansy approaching them. Pansy looked on with a knowing look as you flocked to Theo worriedly.

"Are you alright Theodore?"

When Theo turned to look at you, he felt his rage dissipate. He also fell silent again. For the first time in his life, Theo was unable to speak not because he didn't want to, but because he just didn't know what to say. He fished for sentences in his brain or words of any kind really and yet he came up empty.

Afraid that he'd make a fool of himself again, Theo turned swiftly on his heel and removed himself from the situation.

As you watched Theo leave, you found yourself wildly confused. What the fuck just happened? Sure, Theo was known for just getting up and leaving conversations. But he'd stood there looking at you and even opened his mouth like he was going to say something. Then he just left.

"No hard feelings, Y/n. Theo doesn't like people."

You tried to force yourself to believe Pansy's words. Theo was fine, he just didn't like people. Everyone knew that. But the look that Mattheo exchanged with Theo before he left itched at you in a way that made you feel as though there was something deeper going on there that you weren't privy to.

It turns out, Theo's behavior bothered you enough for you to break one of your cardinal rules: never involve yourself with Mattheo Riddle & Co. You'd had this ingrained in your mind since you started hogwarts. There were only ever two exceptions. One, for Pansy Parkinson who it turned out really spent more time with the Greengrass sisters than Mattheo and his posse. And two, for Theodore Nott whom you'd had a schoolgirl crush on since third year. He was simply too handsome to ignore. And though you'd never really had more than exactly one ten second conversation with him right after you'd damn near toppled him over, you felt concern for him after the incident in the Slytherin party the other night.

Hence why you were standing in front of a grinning Mattheo Riddle at breakfast one morning.

"Where's Theodore?"

Mattheo sucked a breath in through his teeth and looked at you with mischievous eyes.

"Sorry darling. Can't betray one of my best mates, can I?"

"I'm worried about him."

"Then go find him."

You rolled your eyes. You should've known conversing with the likes of Riddle was going to be a waste of your time.

"If I knew where to find him, do you really think I'd be slumming it with you right now? I just want to check on him."

Mattheo looked up at you from his seat with false offense.

"Slumming it? I will have you know that my company is desired by many. And if you're really that desperate to find him, what do you say you and I go get ourselves a broom closet? I'm sure he'd be more than willing to crash our party."

Your eyebrows furrowed as the hidden meaning of Mattheo's words flew clear over your head.

"As if. Enough of your games, Riddle. Draco!"

The platinum haired boy jumped when you barked out his name. He squeaked out a 'yes' in return. You really could be quite intimidating when you wanted to be.

"Where the hell is Theodore?"

"Last I saw him he was out in the gardens."

You swung your bag over your shoulder, watching on in amusement while Mattheo delivered a rapid thump to the back of Draco's head. The boys began to squabble, but you didn't stay to watch, instead taking off towards the gardens.

When you got there, Theo was pacing back in forth in front of the Gardenias. The sound of your approaching footsteps startled him and he whipped around to see who'd followed him out here. As his eyes fell on your figure, he noticeably relaxed.

"Theodore, are you alright?" You repeated your words from last night. Theo's chest heaved as he took a rather deep breath.

"Gardenias were her favorite flower."

You stared on in confusion before it hit you. "Your mother."

You remembered hearing your parents talk about the death of Isabella Nott when you were around 8 or 9 years old. Cantankerous Nott was a prominent figure in the Ministry of Magic, so the death of his wife spread like wildfire amongst the wizarding world.

"When I want to talk to her, I come out here. Being near Gardenias makes me feel... closer to her. I know it's silly."

"It's not silly Theo." This was the most that anyone had ever heard Theo speak. There was no way you were going to let him recluse out of unnecessary embarrassment.

"When I was a boy, my father used to hit my mother. I- I couldn't understand why. She was kind, loving, beautiful. Everything a foul man like him could've hoped for. It frustrated me that I couldn't do anything to help her."

He took a deep breath and tears welled up in his eyes. His gaze had found it's way back to the Gardenias and he focused on them as he continued.

"Then one day, I came home from primary school and they were fighting. My father was the angriest I'd ever seen him. My mother told me to go upstairs to my room. But I didn’t want to leave her so I hid behind the stairs, peeking through the bars. I was worried for her. Then as I watched, my father beat my mother to death. It's why I can see the Thestrals. It's... also why I don't speak. I prefer to be in my mind, where I can be with my memories of her."

Though you couldn't exactly relate to Theodore, your heart ached for him. To have watched his mother die at such a young age, and at the hands of his own father in such a brutal way. It's understandable the impact that it had on him.

“That’s understandable.”

Theo turned to face you, face flushed and chest heaving as though he’d just run a mile.

“It’s more than that though. If you stay away from people, you can’t get attached. If you don’t get attached…”

He trailed off but you could piece together what he was getting at fairly easily.

“You don’t have to worry about getting hurt.”

Theo nodded, chestnut curls blowing gently as a breeze passed through. Your hand made itself busy toying with the leaves of a nearby bush. The deep tones of Theo’s voice echoed as he spoke again.

“It’s different with you. I tried like hell not to get attached. But I can’t help it but want to be close to you. Because you’re so kind. Because you don’t push me to speak, instead you fill the silence with your own beautiful voice. Because for the first time since her death, being present, with you, brings me more happiness than being in my memories with her.”

Theo motioned frantically with his hands as he spoke. It was odd to see a boy usually so stoic be overcome with emotions in this way. When he turned to face the Gardenia bushes again, you came to stand beside him. With gentle hands, you ran your fingers over the white petals of the Gardenias.

“You know I remember reading something once in a muggle book about flowers. Muggles are so silly, aren’t they?”

When Theo turned to you with a questioning look, you took that as your cue to continue.

“They see things they don’t understand. They label them as ‘miracles’ and then come up with these ridiculous folktales and stories just so they don’t have to face the discomfort of not knowing. It must be maddening to them, not knowing.

“Not knowing about where they came from. Or what comes after when they… pass. So instead they label everything, instead of marveling in the beauty and the realness of simply not knowing.”

The boy at your side had completely torn his attention from the ivory flowers and fixed his gaze on you. His eyes seemed to hold and unspoken question, are you going anywhere with this?

“They have a belief about Gardenias. Ancient tales speak of gods and goddesses who transformed Gardenias into sacred tokens, giving them magical properties, which I found to be most intriguing considering that nowadays the majority of muggles don’t believe in magic at all.

“One thing I did find particularly interesting. The muggles believe that Gardenias signify an untold love. They are also given to convey “you're lovely”. Because of this, the gardenia is a flower that they give to lovers, friends, and even family. It's a way of telling them how lovely they are.”

You grasped his hand in his.

“Theo I think remembering your mother through Gardenias is a lovely way to do so. I think she would’ve liked that. And I believe that whatever happens to us when we die, your mother uses all of her strength to tell you through every Gardenia on Earth how much she loves you.”

With your kind words, the dam that seemed to be holding in Theo’s emotions for the last 7 years, shattered. Hits tears streamed down his face and he all but launched himself into your arms. He cried, sobbed actually, and clutched your figure closely to his.

When he finally calmed, his rough hand made its way back into yours. He sniffled softly for a few minutes and the pair of you watched the Gardenias together for a little while.

Finally, after he’d regained control, Theo plucked a Gardenia from the bushes and brought out his wand. He muttered a few spells softly which you recognized as preservation spells. Then, to your surprise, he held the flower out to you with two simple words.

“You’re lovely.”

“Promise?”

You teased him lightly, returning the words he’d spoken to you yesterday afternoon.

Theo fought his own grin at the way your lips turned up. He did have a reputation to uphold and he couldn’t very well do that if he was caught grinning at you.

“Promise.”

Oh to hell with Theodore Nott’s bloody reputation. In the week following your stolen moments in the garden, you and Theodore Nott began courting. When the rest of Hogwarts got wind after a Hufflepuff saw him kiss you outside of the Herbology greenhouse, the student body descended into chaos.

Still, the chatters died down within the day following. In fact, most of your fellow students seemed to think that the whisperings surrounding a relationship between yourself and Theo were simply rumors.

‘She spends a lot of time with the Slytherins.’ One student whispered in the back of Potions.

‘So? She’s friends with Pansy Parkinson, isn’t that her lot as well.’ Another student whispered back.

And since neither you nor Theodore were particularly large gossips, not one of the pair of you said anything to confirm or deny the rumors. Which only fueled more into the leading theory, that the Hufflepuff who saw you kiss was simply imagining it.

Of course, you, Theodore, and the rest of Mattheo & Co. knew differently but that didn’t really bother either of you.

So Theodore continued his life in peace. Knowing that he had the most beautiful girl in the castle in his arms every night, and his reputation for being the most emotionless son a bitch in Hogwarts was still in tact. Theodore Nott had found happiness for once.

Or he was happy.

That is until he saw that bloody Ravenclaw Anthony Goldstein chatting you up by the juice at the evening’s Slytherin House Party.

All week Theo had successfully maintained his carefree and cold hearted front. Yet watching the stupid blonde chat you up while you constantly waved him away made his blood boil. It was more than simple jealousy. It was disrespectful enough to dally around with another man’s girl. But to continue to harass the poor girl when she’d clearly asked you to leave was just in poor character. And for Goldstein to think he could get away with pursuing Theodore’s girl at all was ridiculous and frankly insulting.

So, employing a trick as old as time itself, Theodore stood from his seat next to Draco and just walked away. Whatever the platinum blonde was saying to him was cut off. He looked around at the others around him, motioning to Theo’s retreating figure.

“What are gonna do with him?”

But Theo ignored him. If he didn’t want to entertain Draco’s nonsense any longer, it was his given right to walk away. He had legs, after all.

Legs which were currently making short time towards where his beautiful girlfriend stood in a black cocktail dress. As soon as he was in arms reach, Theo pulled her soft figure into his own, closer and closer until he could smell the perfume on her. It was like having his own little Amortentia when he was around you. As usual, the feeling of your soft skin against his was calming.

It should have been calming.

It would have been calming.

If that idiot blonde hadn’t rudely interrupted Theodore’s plan to remove his personal heaven from the situation by walking the pair of you away from fucking Anthony Goldstein.

“Wait! I was trying to give her an invitation for the party Ravenclaw is having next week.”

Theo stopped and turned, desperately trying to reel in his anger for your sake.

“Sorry she has awful memory.”

The edges of Theo’s mouth ticked up slightly as a giggle broke from your lips behind him. He fought the urge to smile at the sound of your laughter.

“That’s alright I can just tell you, mate.”

This kid was either absolutely stupid or had a death wish. Clearly, you weren’t interested. Clearly, you were already well taken care of.

“No need, mate.” Theo spit out the word in a tone drastically unlike the cheerful one that Goldstein had used. They most certainly were not mates.

“Oh come on, Nott. It can’t hurt.”

Finally Theo’s resolve snapped. He released your hand from his own, faintly aware of your hand grasping the back of his shirt as he stepped closer to the boy in front of him.

“Might hurt.” The words concealed a thinly veiled threat. One that Anthony Goldstein apparently picked up on.

His face blanched and his features twisted. He returned the Slytherins glare with a less effective one of his own.

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

A beat of tense silence passed between the pair, interrupted by you.

“Oh—kay. Let’s all calm down. We’re all… acquaintances?”

Even calling the two boys acquaintances was a major stretch. But before Theo could satisfy the growing need to slam his fist into Anthony’s face repeatedly, the Ravenclaw scoffed out a ‘whatever’ and stalked away.

“Theo…”

Your soft lips dragged out the syllables of Theo’s name but he was still feeling the after effects of his jealousy. He couldn’t believe that stupid fucker had the nerve to challenge him for a girl that was already his. No more of that.

Theo gently took your small wrist in his hand. He led you to the top of the stone stairs that let to the Slytherin Dorms. As you passed, heads turned. And by the time you made it to the top of the grand staircase, every pair of eyes in the party had focused on the two of you.

And in front of all of them, Theo kissed you. Fiercely.

The party was silenced in shock. Even the music had stopped. A few students whispered between themselves. Theo’s friends were exchanging grins and knowing looks.

Theo finally felt at peace as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“You’re my girlfriend.”

“Promise.”

---

wc 3.4k

04.21.24

theodore taglist

@moonlightreader649 @svt-dk97 @thatdammchickennugget @helendeath @fandom-life-12 @bouquetolegoflowers @maryvibess

#slytherin boys #slytherin #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #slytherin boys x reader

[danytar]

“Always” [ Prince!Aegon X Wife!Reader ]

Warnings: expletives, cussing, Unfaithful aegon,fondle breasts,vulgarity,sex,(m receiving), dark aegon,hedonistic, sm jealous ").

Summary: Your loving husband returns to your room in the middle of the night after his exciting adventures in the pleasure houses.

It is known that your husband had a bad reputation in the court even your marriage to him did not prevent him from continuing his bad hobbies It wasn't a very terrible marriage but also not that perfect.

You and your husband have learned to understand each other he was so kind and sweet to you and when it comes to sex he's an expert and never leave you unsatisfied.

But there was a problem.. your jealousy and your possession you wanted him all for yourself something he didn't know and you didn't show. At first It was okay and you didn't have a problem with his actions because no matter how many women he sleeps with, he will always come back to you. he loved you but this was not enough to stop him.

Even though he told you hundreds of times that he loves you and all those whores mean nothing to him, you still insist that he does not love you.. that you was not enough for him.

It was almost the midnight and you were in your chambers lying on your bed with a book in your hands reading in peace the air was cold and the room was a bit dark just the light of candles that are about to go out a little things made your day.

Your soft air was interrupted by the sound of the bedroom doorknob being turned. and there he was as usual a drunk and barely able to walk his clothes were dirty his silver locks were disheveled he smell reeked of sweat and cheap wine, not to mention the women ofc..

“you still awake? Were you waiting for me, my sweet love?”. He barely uttered his words he dragged himself towards your bed.

You put your book aside and sighed in frustration you looked at him with a disappointed look and a slight frown on your lips. “The brothel again?”.

He looked sheepish, his cheeks reddening, but he didn't seem all that remorseful. though, he had the sense to look away from you, his silence confirming that it was, indeed once again the brothel.

“Don't you feel ashamed of your actions? ”. You spoke to him in a serious tone this time because you were really fed up with his actions he was standing close to your bed but he looked at you and then said in a drunken tone:

“Why should I be ashamed? I did nothing wrong...” He laughed, but it was a nervous, shaky laugh.You could just hear him sigh through the silence following his reply.“I-” He pauses “It doesn't mean I dont love you-” He coughs, wiping the wine stained lips on his robes sleeve. “I cant help it... I just-”

“You have made us the laughing stock of the court”. you replied with a heavy sigh. He shrugs slightly, he's never had a problem with being laughed at before, he simply drank that feeling away too. “It doesnt matter... People laugh behind our backs anyway”.

He looks at you through heavy-ish eyes. He doesnt look at you like you are a mother scolding him, he looks at you like he is a boy getting rejected for the first time. It's a pathetic look, but he cant hold eye contact long enough for either of you to comment on it.

“Why are you here aegon? ”.

“What do you mean? Im here because I-” He sighs, his hands gripping the sheets as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “Because I’m your husband!..”

“My husband changes his whores more than his clothes.”

He chuckles at that, finding your bluntness slightly humorous, not to mention it made him feel like he wasn't in such a hard spot. “...Thats not true”. He says, hoping you'll let it go at that.

When he tries to touch you, you move your hands away from him “Don't touch me or something”. you replied In a firm, almost broken voice.

He is visibly hurt by the rejection, but is too exhausted to even show the emotion to its fullest, he only slightly grimaced when you moved your hands away. He tries again, but doesnt say anything, begging you silently to forgive him for once or at least humour a kiss or something.

“You didn't even try to wash yourself off that shit.”

He sighs. “I...” He rubs his eyes, too tired to even say anything. For once in his life, he was at a loss for words. It was like he knew he was too dirty to even deserve a kiss, and yet his desire and desperation to be loved overpowered that.

You quickly grab your book and ignore his presence. Aegon sighs, he didnt want to be ignored, even in the state he was in. “Darling...” He tried to reach for the book, wanting to gain your attention when you didn't answer him, he placed his head on your shoulder and looked at the page you were reading.

He groans slightly, wanting to at least get your attention.“I missed you y/n ” He sighs “Im tired and drunk and-” He pauses as if searching for the right answer, settling on the most honest one. “Lonely”.

“Why didn’t you bring your whores with you? Maybe they would fill your loneliness.” after your comment he feels himself boil, the rage boiling inside him. “Oh come on, its not the same, and you know it! Theyre not you, and they dont fill the void either, you know that...”

“Don't fool me aegon-” You push the sheets off and get out of bed when he saw you doing that he growls “Damn it, you know what Im talking about!”.

He is too tired to properly have this argument and he was trying desperately to get you to understand him. The silence was getting to him and he was starting to get angry and frustrated because he felt himself not being understood. “All I wanted was your company, and the first thing you ask me is about some brothel?!”

“I'm tired of your behavior! you're.... you're...” You paused for a moment to find the right word.

“I’m what?" He snaps, the anger finally boiling out of him. “What am I? Tell me!”

“A WHORE ”.

He scowls, the words stinging him like fire. "Shut your mouth!" He tries to sit up, but the alcohol makes him dizzy as he falls back. "Youre as much of a whore as I am, you know that right?!". He approaches you and grabs your arm tightly Even if he was a drunk, he is still stronger than you.

“You dare talk back to me! maybe I should put you in your place again wife”. He growled into your ear when you try to look at him he slaps you hard. You are surprised by the sudden slap. This is the first time he has raised his hand on you like that.

You do not let the slap go unnoticed, but return it to him harder which causes him to stumble backwards. He growls in pain when you returned his slap with a greater amount of force, his jaw slightly dropping with surprise.

He takes a step backwards, but only because of the sharp pain that shoots across his cheek. He rubs his cheek for a bit, trying to soothe the sting. His eyes turn to you again, and you can still see the anger in his eyes. This was new.

His hand moves from your arm to your face and he grabs your cheek, his thumb feeling over the spot where he had struck you.

He narrows his eyes as he watches you, his thumb rubbing the mark he had left there. He is still filled with the rage of jealousy and bitterness, but he is also filled with sadness. He leans down, bringing his face only an inch from yours.

When you tried to evade his grip, he held you in place and pressed his lips firmly on yours, whether you liked it or not. The suddenness of his action caused you to stiffen, and in the moment of stiffness, you didnt immediately respond to his kiss.

He could feel every tensed muscle in your body and he relished in the feeling. It was as if you had been a puppet for him to control like they way he wanted to. It was a feeling of pure power, and he loved it.

He was still holding your face, keeping you in place when he wrapped his hands around your wrists, he gently guided them to his neck, wanting you to feel the power he had over you. He pressed his mouth on yours again, pushing his body into yours as his grip on you tightened.

He was feeling completely overwhelmed with power as he started to rip into your dresses. It felt good to finally show you who was truly in-charge. It wasnt your body nor your choice. It was his. He owned you. He tore off your dress, before taking you roughly to the bed.

He began to forcefully remove his clothes as he said “I know what my greedy wife wants.. she wants my cock only for herself ”.

“You know what I want, so why do you keep giving my rights to other women?”. He laughed and lay on top of you "I like to make you jealous." He said before he started nibbling and sucking your neck to your thighs.

"They're nothing...nothing like my wife's sweet pussy”. You mumbled and parted your legs he placed wet kisses on your thighs, reaching your sweet spot which he loves the most.Your breath hitched when you felt his tongue on you.

You tangled your fingers in his hair and let him give you his services. Even if he is clumsy and makes you angry, he has his own ways of making you feel good.

After several rounds, you felt a terrible pain between your legs maybe the most Sweetest pain you have ever felt. Your head was on his chest while his arms were gently caressing your ass.

It was a moment of bliss and calm between the two of you.You were listening to his heartbeat and feeling his chest rising and falling slowly. He broke the silence by saying: “I will never see them again.”

“What? ”. You lifted your head from his chest to look at him. He gently stroked your cheek with his other hand and looked at you “The pleasure houses.. I won't go again, I promise.. I realized how foolish I was.. I love you I don't want to lose you for the sake of random whores ”.

you looks at him with all the love you have.. “I love you too aegon”. He lifted his head to place a small kiss on your lips.

“Will you love me always? ”

“Always my love”.

He smilies.. “Can I pass out now?”. you chuckled and nodded he immediately closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep. You kept your head on his chest, your fingers drawing random circles on it. You stayed like that for a short while until you passed out with him..

♡ – 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : @darylandbethfanforever9 @hisfavegiri @callsignwidow @xitsemm @saltytidalwavetyphoon @khaleesihel @credulouskhaleesi @lovelykhaleesiii

#aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #aegon headcanons #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second #aegon x reader #hotd aegon #aegon fanfic #tom glynn carney #tom glynn carney x reader #king aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen smut #aegon ii #aegon x you #aegon targaryen ii x you #aegon targaryen #hotd s2 #aegon ii fanfic #aegon imagine #danytar

[fanfictionismyromanempire]

Elevator problems in Monaco

Charles Leclerc x reader

Summary: You get stuck in the elevator with your neighbor and everybody's crush, Charles Leclerc.

Author's Note: In this story, there is no use of "Y/N" there is poorly translated French; only a few words. And contains 413 words.

Masterlist

How often do you need to fantasize about someone before it is considered strange? I mean, it's not every day, but often enough that I consider it to become strange. Luckily, if you can consider it lucky, there are enough people always looking at him. Is it strange to become possessive of your kind of acquaintance-slash-neighbor? I don't think it's strange for me to think about him; after all, he is a Formula 1 driver, and a good one at that. I mean, I can count myself lucky that I even kind of know him when I see him walking his little dog.

Besides seeing him walking around the hall of her complex gives me extra views of his everyday life to fantasize about. But these are thoughts I shouldn't be having, especially not when I am in the elevator with him. Although he doesn't help with how in love he looks with his dog and the look he has right now, like he just came out of bed. And right now he is giving me the look like I am one of his crazy fans who just screamed 'Sign my boobs, Charles Leclerc.'

Tout va bien?! Alright, brain, don't freak out; he just asked you a question in a language you don't understand. Which you should be able to understand if you just didn't keep on skipping your Duolingo French lessons. After all, who lives in Monaco without speaking French? Rich assholes. Shit, you became a rich asshole who doesn't answer people. I try to smile friendly at him; it feels more like a grimace. Je ne parle pas français.

Ding! The sound of my dreams. I try to really smile at him this time while he looks at me like he still wants to say something and run like Usain Bolt right to my apartment. As I close my door, I realize that I have never looked pretty while I run and that he most definitely thinks I am a crazy person. After my freak out, I realize I went outside with a purpose and that I didn't even get off downstairs, but that I ran out of the elevator without it having moved. I am a crazy person. Can I still go back? I mean, I need to get back; otherwise, my friends will kill me. This is not a good enough reason to miss a baby shower, even if he is deadly handsome.

As I gather up the courage to look out my door like a spy, I realize that I have never looked so stupid. But I'm so relieved that I don't see him standing there that I want to scream. I walk over to the lift that is still open. Luckily enough, no one is inside, including my handsome neighbor, as I click on the button to go downstairs. I realize the lift is not moving, so I click another time, and another time. The lift is broken he says. I shriek and turn around while he smiles and giggles. I try to smile all the while, attempting not to freak out about the fact that I just shrieked at my crush and try to formulate a response.

"Seriously?!" He laughs again. "Yes, I just called maintenance, but I think today will be a stairs day, Mon cheri."

Now, you wouldn't think that would be a problem until you realize that we live on the 20th floor. "Wait, Mon cheri?" What does Mon cheri mean? He smirks this time and says, "How about I take you out for dinner when you figure out what it means? That way, you don't have to stare or run away from me anymore."

Somebody sedate me, 'Is Charles Leclerc flirting with me ?' 'I think I know what it means,' I say, trying to sound confident. 'Really?' he says with a cocky smirk. 'I didn't think you knew French with what you just said in the elevator. Or are you a liar, neighbor?' I scoff while he laughs with that stupid cute smirk, and I realize he is challenging me and I don't have a master plan. I mean, I don't speak French. He is looking at me expectantly, and I think, 'Fuck it.' I walk over to him and kiss him.

The next thing I know, I wake up to the sound of ticking on the floor and an arm around my middle. I sit up fast and look around my room until I notice the ticking was coming from the most adorable-looking dog I have ever seen. But then, I remember this dog, and most definitely the red gloves that lay in the room. As I panic, I quickly look to the side. The arm around my middle moves, and Charles sits up and says, 'Good morning, mon cheri.' I exhale and reply, 'Good morning,' with a smile, then lay back down and grab my phone, only to realize that I messed up greatly and missed the baby shower.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1

[jgracie]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ WHERE’S THE TROPHY? HE JUST COMES RUNNING OVER TO ME!

↳ part one!

(american)footballer!jason grace x fem!reader

masterlist | rules

on the radio . . . the alchemy (taylor swift)

an this is dedicated to everyone who said i should write a part 2 thank u for supporting my agenda <3 AND thank you to all the people who helped me understand hs football culture i hope this was a realistic depiction 😓 !!

football never failed to make you feel anxious. before you started dating jason, you didn't really care for it, only showing up for games because you liked the whole 'team spirit' thing and because it was a good excuse to hang out with your friends. now, however, things have changed

since it was jason's whole life, you took it upon yourself to learn all about the rules of the game and the roles of the different players (with a special interest in jason's role for no reason in particular). now, whenever you showed up to a game, you'd actually be watching your school's every move, ignoring your friends' banter and focusing on jason and jason alone

'this is just a friendly match' is the mantra you kept repeating in your head as you watched. you knew that deep down, having a match sprung up on him like this bothered jason, even though it wouldn't count for anything. you also knew that this would affect his skill regarding the game. at this point, you've memorised jason's every move by heart, and you could tell that today just wasn't his day

the rest of the team looked pretty hopeless too. with their captain in this condition, how could they stay positive? they relied on jason to lift their spirits and up their motivation. little did they (and you) know, jason relied on you to lift him up

ever since you started actually paying attention to games, cheering him and only him on, wearing his jersey with his surname plastered on your back, his prowess went from amazing to formidable. there were times when juggling schoolwork, social life and being the captain of the football team really got to him, and he almost considered shutting himself off from the world. but then he'd remember your sugary smile and kind words and addictive lips and he'd feel rejuvenated. just the thought of you alone was like a lifeline to him

this was one of those times. he turned to look at you, sitting all pretty on the bleachers. despite being in the midst of a sea of purple, jason could pinpoint you within a millisecond. he gave you a small grin, and you waved at him as you sported a smile of your own

"go jason!" you yelled, your voice making jason feel like he ate some of the ambrosia greek demigods would in those myths you learnt about in class. all of a sudden, he was full of energy and quickly passed that on to his teammates, hyping them all up for the rest of the game. they could still win this

and they did. others believed it was a miracle, but jason knew what it was. it was you. if you weren't there, they probably would've suffered a scathingly embarrassing loss against CHB high, who'd been shading them for their 'too rigid' style of playing. begrudgingly, their headmaster brought out the trophy, about to present it to jason when he realised the boy had disappeared

jason didn't care about the trophy. instead of collecting it, taking a few pictures and making a speech, he ran over to you - nearly jumping over the barrier between the bleachers and the pitch to give you a very heated kiss. how could he care about the trophy when his real prize had been here all along?

(the picture of the two of you kissing had been passed around school and you'd gotten teased relentlessly afterwards, but you didn't care. you truly were in your own world - who were you to fight the alchemy?)

#jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace #jason grace x fem reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #jason grace fanfic #pjo fanfic #jason grace drabble #jason grace blurb #cynwrites

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (26)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of sex, incest, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Jace remembered perfectly the day his little sister was born. Laenor had led him into his mother's chamber that day, holding his hand, saying that she was very tired and they couldn't spend much time with her − he had insisted on seeing her because he was delighted to finally have a sibling, a brother to play with and be friends with.

His mother, the future queen, smiled softly at the sight of him, her white hair loose and in disarray, her face red from sweat and exertion.

She held out her hand to him and he hugged her, peering curiously at the infant she held clutched to her chest.

"He's so tiny." He said in disbelief, brushing the baby's finger with his own − he smiled when he saw the baby's hand clench into a small fist with its quiet purr.

"She. You have a little sister." He heard his mother's amused voice; he furrowed his brow at her words and rose, angry and disappointed.

"− wait, comrade −" Laenor called out after him, but he refused to look at her.

She was a disappointment to him.

For the first few months, he had pretended not to hear her cries or squeals from their mother's chamber − even though Rheanyra had spoken to him and encouraged him to meet her, he had refused to do so, recognising that no little girl interested him.

"It was supposed to be a boy." He muttered regretfully while playing with his large, wooden, black dragon, pretending that the stacks of books were the great hills over which he flew on Balerion. His mother smiled at his words and combed her hand through his dark curls.

"That is what the gods have decided. She may be your future wife."

Jace put down his toy, looking at her in surprise, not understanding what she meant.

"Am I going to have to kiss her?" He asked in disgust, recalling the stories Laenor sometimes read to him before bed, in which great knights freed beautiful women from the paws of monsters, only to fall in love with them later and be bestowed a kiss by them.

His mother smiled involuntarily.

"Don't think about such things until you're a grown man. No kissing for now." She giggled, pinching his cheek. He smiled lazily seeing her warm expression, the motherly love that beat from her.

That night he went to the chamber where she slept for the first time; he leaned over the cradle, glancing at her plump little figure wrapped in a white robe and a small headpiece. Her eyes opened suddenly and he was terrified that she would burst into tears − she, however, merely clutched her small feet and began to rock from side to side, looking at him curiously.

He smiled involuntarily at this sight and tickled her belly with his finger. Her squeal and loud giggle answered him, her eyes lit up in joy, her little body all the way up in euphoria. He laughed seeing this, repeating his gesture, thinking she was like a small animal, a puppy or a kitten.

He decided that at the end of the day she wasn't so bad and stopped pretending she didn't exist.

Until Luke was born he had treated her as if she were a boy, driving their mother to despair every time they both returned sodden with mud and sand after another battle with Aegon and Aemond.

He had always felt that his uncles disliked him, and even though they were of a similar age to him, he did not feel comfortable in their company − nor could he hide his jealousy at the sight of their snow-white hair, proof of who they were.

Looking at his father and mother, he could not comprehend why his hair was not that shade.

Rhaenyra explained to him that it was surely because of the Baratheon blood that also flowed through their veins, and although he was disappointed, the sight that he was not the only one, that his sister and Luke looked similar to him, comforted him.

The first time Aegon laughed sincerely at what he said occurred when he called his sister a hamster. The comparison came to his mind when she took air in her mouth and furrowed her brow − he uttered it thoughtlessly, and his uncle burst out laughing and patted him on the back.

"− gods, you're right − and those big eyes of hers −" He sneered, and although he saw that his sister lowered her gaze, embarrassed, he continued, eager to hear more words of praise from his lips.

"− she has just as much sense too −" He added, seeing his uncle throw him an amused, mocking look suggesting that he agreed with him.

He felt a squeeze in his heart when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that his sister had turned and walked away, passing through the cloisters towards their quarters without even giving him another glance.

He turned around and noticed to his surprise that he was not the only person to notice her leaving − his other uncle, Aemond, led her away with his eyes and then threw him a look full of despise, from which he felt discomfort.

He pressed his lips together at the thought that he was the heir to the throne and, unlike him, had his own dragon.

Who was he to look down on him with such superiority?

He decided to remind him of that and share that thought with his brother.

Aegon's involvement in their little joke surprised even him − his uncle thought it was an excellent idea. He argued that his younger brother was too sullen and serious for his age, that he was sapient and could use a little lesson.

As he listened to Aegon convince him that they had found a dragon for him, as he saw the hint of hope and the shy, embarrassed smile of excitement on his uncle's face, he felt for a moment that perhaps they should not do this.

However, it was too late to retreat − Luke ran deeper into the cave, and came out a moment later, leading by a rope a large pig to which they had attached self-made wooden wings early on.

"Behold! The Pink Dread!"

He saw that his uncle froze and turned pale as they burst out laughing, swallowing this humiliation with difficulty − his eyes glazed over and reddened, his gaze again blank and distant.

He knew they had broken him.

That same day he mentioned it to his sister, and her reaction angered him.

"You are cruel." She said resentfully.

Which side was she on?

"He's forever looking down on us because he has white hair. He's constantly making excuses and bragging about what he's read in those silly dusty books of his." He snorted, playing between his fingers with the gold coin their grandfather had brought him from another of his trips overseas.

He blinked when his sister simply rose from her seat and walked out, leaving him in a state of shock and displeasure − he decided, however, that these were just normal female emotions and would surely pass her until supper.

He loved his father, but he also greatly valued and respected Ser Harwin Strong. He was a stocky, tall, handsome man who could fight very well. He often spoke to him or helped him practice by sharing stories of his duels in tournaments and hunts.

He thought then that he would like to be like him one day.

He knew that he was a close confidant of his mother and often saw them together, however, his father seemed not to mind, so he considered this condition perfectly normal and did not bother.

After a few weeks, the will of their King fell upon them like a bolt from the heavens, and their mother informed them of it during one of their suppers together.

"− your grandfather and our King has decided today that, to strengthen our lineage, we will betroth your sister to your uncle, Prince Aemond − let us raise our cups for this −" She said, glancing towards her daughter, his sister smiling broadly at her words, happy.

What?

"− what do you mean? − why? −" He asked, feeling discomfort in his stomach and a cold sweat on his back.

They wanted to gift him his sister as a consolation because he didn't have a dragon of his own?

"− your grandfather wants peace to reign in the kingdom after his death − such a marriage in his eyes will strengthen our family and our bonds between each other − of course, the marriage will only happen when your sister is of the right age −" She said calmly, looking at her daughter with tenderness, taking an unruly strand of her dark hair from her face.

"− did you agree? −" He asked his little sister in disbelief, and she nodded quickly, as if it was the happiest day of her life.

"− yes − I'm very pleased − I'm fond of our uncle −" She said quickly, putting a piece of roast on her plate, describing how worried she was that she would have to marry someone much older than herself.

He stared blankly ahead, clenching his hands into fists, bitter and disappointed.

Had she really never considered him as her husband?

After all, he was her elder brother; in their lineage such marriages were obvious.

He dared not, however, defy the will of the King himself.

His resentment towards his uncle increased with each passing week seeing that, against his wishes, he was not being harsh and unpleasant to his sister − on the contrary, he seemed to have softened in her company, his face, though still pathetically proud, also expressing curiosity and affection.

He felt rage in his heart at the thought that they could really have wished to bring about this marriage.

However, the cup of bitterness overflowed the moment he saw his sister kiss him.

They were both too certain that no one could see them − he watched them from the corridor through a window overlooking the library.

His sister was standing by the bookcase, saying something to him, and he stood up and walked lazily over to her. He rose on his tiptoes and apparently reached for a book that stood too high for her. She smiled broadly as he handed it to her, her hand traveling to his shoulder.

He swallowed hard as her lips pressed against his, and as soon as she pulled away, her uncle grasped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her again, deeper and longer.

He fled to his chamber and burst into tears with rage, dropping all the objects standing on his table, disappointed and humiliated that although he was to become King in the future, someone else was taking away something that in his mind was his right.

He never wondered what kind of love he had bestowed upon her and whether it was the form of affection that usually bound married couples; he knew that he would care for her and be good to her and that was enough for him.

She was his sister and he would never hurt her.

She, however, looked only to her uncle and it was to him that she gave her heart and mind.

He didn't know what he felt when Luke slashed his face that night when their uncle stole Vhagar − horror, shame, satisfaction and relief all mingled in his mind into one.

On the one hand, he was overjoyed that he had taken back what in his mind should have been his, on the other he was embarrassed and distraught at the confirmation of his fears that had long smouldered in his mind.

It was Harwin Strong who was their father.

To his seed he owed his dark curls.

He was a bastard.

He tried to turn his thoughts away from considering what this meant for them, focusing on the fact that his sister would surely no longer want her uncle for a husband, and their paths would part.

This is exactly what happened.

Still, what he had planned did not happen, and his mother decided to change her plan and marry her off to their cousin, Lord Arryn's son, to strengthen her support in the North of the kingdom. Again, he felt a wave of disappointment, however, this time he was not so jealous − he knew that she had no love for their cousin and that he was certainly no threat to her.

"What's my little sister doing?" He asked with amusement, startling her completely, sitting bent over her desk − she quickly grabbed the parchment she had just been writing something on and tucked it under the table, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Are you writing a letter to someone?" He sneered, raising an eyebrow, standing over her with a smile. She swallowed hard and looked down, thoughtful.

"I write poetry. But I don't want anyone to read it." She muttered, and he sighed quietly and nodded, acknowledging that he wasn't going to force her to do anything.

"Would you like to go for a walk along the beach? It's beautiful weather." He encouraged her; she, however, shook her head, no longer bestowing a single glance on him.

"No, forgive me. I'm tired."

He pressed his lips together at her rejection, which he had faced again and again since they had moved to Dragonstone.

Even though he tried to get close to her, to understand her and comfort her, she still didn't want him.

He was ashamed to speak of his feelings with his mother or stepfather, much less Luke, however, to his surprise, his closest confidant turned out to be Baela.

"I don't understand her. It seems to me that she still misses him, even though he has certainly forgotten her by now. I have heard that he is a cold, vain, self-obsessed man. He's always been that way, treating her only as an object, a consolation prize. Now that he has a dragon he doesn't need her." He said angrily − his cousin sighed heavily at his words, looking at him with understanding.

"When people part in anger and don't close a chapter, it's hard for them to move on. Perhaps she knew him in a way that is unknown to us. He's always been withdrawn into himself." She muttered disapprovingly, fiddling with the wine cup in her hand, gazing thoughtfully into the blazing fire.

He smiled at the thought that he was certain she recalled the impetuosity with which her uncle had punched her in the face with his fist that night when he lost an eye. Baela looked at him, raising her eyebrows.

"What's that look?" She asked and kicked him under the table with her foot. He giggled at her reaction and shook his head, lowering his gaze to her fingers.

"I would have been better for her. I would have really cared for her. Maybe I wouldn't have given her everything she needed, but at least with me she would have been safe." He said with a tiredness from which his companion sighed heavily. He lifted his gaze to her as her hand grasped his and squeezed it.

"I know." She replied softly.

He swallowed hard, feeling a pleasant warmth in his lower abdomen as he saw her soft, misty gaze, feeling her warm thumb stroke his palm. He grunted as he felt his manhood pulsate in his breeches at the thought that, indeed, his cousin was a very fine woman.

He had always liked her sharp tongue and confidence.

"Have you ever lain in bed with a woman?" She asked him suddenly, and he drew in the air loudly, shocked, feeling that his cheeks had certainly turned red with shame.

He didn't know what to answer.

He didn't want to humiliate himself with words that he had absolutely no experience in these matters knowing that she had a more liberated approach to these affairs.

Daemon, as her father, had expressed no dissent, so who was he to lecture her?

She sighed quietly, seeing his reaction, or rather lack thereof, and rose from her seat, turning her back to him, gripping the ties of her bodice with her hands.

"I need you to help me."

Baela was a calm and patient teacher − it seemed to him that she took great satisfaction in his lack of understanding of what she was actually doing to him as she sank down on his swollen manhood again and again with a moan of delight − her brown naked skin glistened wonderfully in the light of the blazing fire, her white curls falling over her shoulders in disarray, her full lips parted in obvious desire from which he felt his fulfilment approaching embarrassingly fast.

She made sure he didn't fill her with his seed, letting him instead come down on her abdomen with his low moan of pleasure, his length pulsating and twitching in her hand for a while longer. He licked his lower lip dry with emotion, looking at her in disbelief, a soft, shy smile on her face.

"− you're beautiful −" He whispered, and she giggled under her breath and kissed him in a way from which he felt hot in his heart.

She made him forget, at least for a moment, what was happening around them, finding in her both friend and lover, the confidante of all his secrets.

She was not jealous of his sister − on the contrary, he had the impression that she understood the source of his anger and disappointment, herself having no intention of explaining to him what she was doing and with whom.

It seemed to him that their relationship and its freedom suited them both.

Of course, they both knew that in the end they would experience a marriage that would inevitably be purely political, and they understood what that entailed.

Then their grandfather was injured on one of his expeditions, and Vaemond Velaryon challenged his younger brother's rights to the throne of Driftmark.

Knowing the truth about his parentage and at the same time refusing to accept it, he became enraged, sad and depressed at the same time − Baela's words of comfort that they would find a solution and not allow themselves to be intimidated did not reassure him.

Once again, his uncle and his family were trying to take their inheritance from them.

His return to King's Landing was a shock to him; to his disappointment, he felt like an intruder there, and it seemed to him that was exactly how he was perceived by everyone.

He felt a drop of cold sweat run down his neck, his stomach twisting with discomfort when he saw his uncle in the distance, wielding his sword as if it weighed nothing, easily defeating Criston Cole, pressing its blade against his neck.

He was tall, muscular, his long white hair, proof that he was in fact a Targaryen partly tied at the back of his head with a black ribbon, his jaw long and sharply defined, his gaze wild and cold, terrifying.

He smiled mockingly at the sight of them, playing with the hilt of his sword between his fingers as if he wanted to devour them.

He felt ashamed at the thought that he was terrified.

And then his uncle spotted their sister in the distance − his heart beat harder at the sight of their expressions.

It seemed to him that this reunion years later had caused them pain, as they both froze, breathing heavily, looking at each other as if there was no one else around.

His uncle hummed under his breath and turned away, nodding at Ser Criston, taking another swing with his sword.

Even though he hadn't cared what happened to her for so many years, even though he had humiliated her at supper by calling her Lady Strong, she had confessed in front of everyone that her place was with him.

He looked at her in disbelief, wondering what she was doing, why she had stooped to courting him when it was obvious that her uncle had neither respect nor affection for her.

After a moment, he heard his uncle's cold, trembling, deep voice.

"So it is decided, father. We will marry."

"How could our mother agree to this? How could she let her stay there?" He asked furiously, circling around his chamber in Dragonstone; Baela sighed heavily, turning her head away. She looked at him finally, hesitation in her gaze.

"I didn't tell you because I knew it would only enrage you and you wouldn't leave her alone." She said tiredly − he halted in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder, feeling his heart pounding like mad.

"You didn't tell me about what?" He asked dryly, frustrated and concerned.

Baela let out a loud breath, shaking her head. They were now betrothed, and although he thought they both seemed to have accepted their families' decisions with relief, he couldn't rejoice.

"My father told me that she had been sending him letters all these years. That the same night we arrived in the Red Keep she spent the night in his chamber."

He stared at her dully, feeling that it made him sick to his stomach, as if he were about to vomit, his face taking on an expression of disgust.

So she didn't write any poetry then, he thought with regret and pain.

"− how could she do this − expose our mother to humiliation and gossip −"

"Jace. She never stopped loving him. I think she's naive too, but you'd have to be blind not to see that she never really accepted it all. I don't know what I think about it myself." She admitted, running her hand over her face.

"You don't know what you think about it? I'll tell you. Our uncle will play with her and take advantage of her, and then he will put her up to ridicule and hand her over to us. He won't marry her." He growled angrily, burying his face in his hands, wondering how she could be so foolish, how she could believe that he had sincere intentions about her.

"The matter of succession is on a knife-edge. Perhaps our grandfather is right? A union between our mother and the Queen could really ease the situation." She muttered, clearly looking for anything comforting in the situation, which he completely failed to understand.

Had everyone around him lost their minds?

"My uncle who thinks we are bastards is supposed to alleviate the situation? He will never agree to let me sit on the throne and I am supposed to give him my sister?" He asked in disbelief; Baela tightened her lips at his words, frustrated.

"You speak of her as if she were an object. It's always been that way."

He felt an unpleasant shiver run down his spine at her words, every muscle in his body tensing like a string.

"What do you mean?" He asked coolly.

Baela sighed heavily, clearly trying not to explode and form her thoughts so as to be honest but not cruel.

"You think she was born to fulfil your whims? That the fact that you are her eldest brother gives you precedence to lie in bed with her?"

He felt himself blush with shame at her question, shocked.

Discomfort and arousal surged through his lower abdomen at the thought.

"Do you think that's what I mean? I'm just trying to…"

"Yes, Jace. I've never witnessed you ask her how she feels, what she needs. I am fond of you, but you are a selfish boy, not a man."

He felt ashamed at the thought as tears gathered under his eyelids at her words, a terrible, cold shudder shook his body, his heart began to pound like mad.

You are a selfish boy, not a man.

Her words so offended him that he stopped speaking to her despite her pleas, and then the thing he feared most happened.

The King was dead, Aegon had stolen her mother's throne and his uncle had imprisoned his sister.

They had made a mockery of them.

He had been right all along, but no one listened to him.

"Forgive me, Jace." Baela muttered, placing her hand on his shoulder. She knelt beside him, sighing heavily, laying her head on his thigh, and he involuntarily stroked her hair, feeling superiority, feeling strength.

He was going to fight for his mother's crown and bring his sister home.

In order to do so, at the behest of their mother, he flew to Winterfell to ask Cregan Stark for his support in this cause, reminding him of the oath his father had taken before her.

The North seemed to him a beautiful and wild place, so far from what he knew − the snow-covered hills, the austere fortresses of dark stone, the robes that looked only grey, black or brown around him gave him a sense of modesty and space.

Lord Stark's nature appeared to be similar to his, and the few days he had spent in his company hunting and riding horses had actually made him feel good − he felt like someone worthy with him, a true heir to the throne, not a bastard.

It was this feeling that, seeing the young Lady Snow from afar, he allowed himself to be enchanted by her charms and lay in bed with her.

Like a real man.

When he arrived back in Dragonstone he learned that Luke had just returned from Storm's End and that he had seen their sister.

"You flew after him? You flew after him knowing he could imprison you, use you as your mother's weakness? Fucking fool." Growled Daemon, shocked and horrified by his naivety, burying his face in his hands, unable to look at him.

"Daemon." Their mother rebuked him, all pale, her hand clenched on her womb. "What happened next?"

"He brought her. Someone hit her, mother, and I think she tried to take her own life. There were cut marks on her wrists." His brother muttered, and he felt his heart stop, he and Baela looked at each other quickly.

She had tried to take her own life.

Because of this bastard, his sister could be dead.

His hands clenched into fists at that thought.

"And then?" Pressed Daemon in an impatient voice.

"I told her to run away with me, but she didn't agree. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she remains faithful to you, mother." He mumbled and he slammed his fist on the table, feeling fury and rage boiling up inside him.

"That fucking bastard purposely made her stay. He planned this, he never had any intention of marrying her!" He growled red with anger − Daemon threw him a single, drawn-out look.

"And then what? He let you just walk away? No one else saw you?" He continued, pretending not to have heard his outburst.

"N-no, I was surprised, but no. Forgive me, I had to see her, make sure that she is still alive." Luke said. Daemon sighed heavily and leaned over, placing his hands on the top of the stone table, thoughtful.

"Bring me a parchment and a quill. I need to speak with my nephew."

Baela followed him into his chamber in an attempt to calm him down.

"How can he want to pact with that fucking traitor? His brother stole my mother and his wife's throne!" He shouted in her face − his betrothed dropped her hands in a gesture of helplessness.

"Since he let them meet, maybe there is something to it. My father knows what he's doing, I trust him. I believe he will bring her home."

"You're naive. You always have been."

"And you're vain. You always have been."

He pressed his lips together at her words, feeling his heart pounding like mad, feeling like something was about to explode inside him.

"I met a woman in Winterfell who I took to my bed." He muttered finally, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Part of him wanted to hurt her, and part of him wanted to be honest with her.

That was what they had promised each other.

Baela laughed at his words in disbelief and shook her head − he had a feeling he saw a shadow of regret in her gaze, but he wasn't sure if it was because of his confession or because she understood why he said it now.

"If you wish, I'll relate to you how I spent my time in your absence, but I'm not sure you'll be able to look into this guard's face afterwards." She sneered, lifting her chin high, looking at him defiantly. He felt a wave of hot shame and anger surge through his body.

"After we're married…are you going to continue this?" He asked uncertainly and she cocked her head to the side.

"If you are not faithful to me, I will not remain faithful to you. You are dear to me, but don't think I will cry for you. Certainly not like your sister cried for her uncle. Part of me has always envied her that she experienced such a deep feeling in her life even if it burned her from the inside for so many years." She said with a kind of regret from which he felt a squeeze in his stomach, but he answered nothing to her words.

He knew that they did not love each other.

They were close and felt comfortable together, but they weren't mad about each other.

He believed it just had to be this way.

He waited impatiently along with his mother and the others gathered for Daemon to return from his meeting with their uncle, simultaneously terrified and angry that they were speaking with traitors instead of fighting.

When they heard the squeal of Caraxes in the distance his mother stood up, pale, holding her hand on her womb again, as if remembering the time when she had carried her only daughter under her heart.

His other sister had died before she was even truly born.

When Daemon stepped into the main hall everyone was already waiting for him; he sighed heavily, placing his Dark Sister on the table top, folding his hands in front of him, straightening.

"Your daughter married her uncle of her own free will. My nephew has conveyed to me that his brother-cunt will relinquish the throne he stole from you if it is your daughter's children and his who become heirs to the throne or, in the event they do not conceive a son, ours − Viserys and Aegon. He demands the exclusion of Jace, Luke and Joffrey from the succession." He said dispassionately. He looked at his mother seeing that she had run out of words.

"− mother − this is −"

"− leave us − all of you −" She ordered.

"− mother − this is my inheritance − mine −" He began, but felt Baela's grip on his arm.

"− Jace − that's enough −"

He sat in his chamber thinking only of the fact that his mother was just contemplating whether or not to agree to deprive him of his inheritance, to acknowledge that he was her bastard despite the fact that he was her firstborn son, despite the fact that Laenor Velaryon had acknowledged him as his heir.

"− Jace −" Baela muttered, seeing his condition.

"− leave −" He said. He heard her sigh heavily as she approached him with a rustle of her gown, kneeling at his feet.

"− Jace − I'm on your side − I always have been − don't you see me as your companion? − your friend? − your lover? −" She asked with a pained expression that startled him. He lowered his hands and looked at her − his palm rose to her cheek, which he stroked with a tender, slow gesture.

"− you resent me − you don't see me as a man, but as a child −"

"− that is not true −"

"− I don't want your pity −"

"− Jace −"

"− you were right − I don't want to frustrate you and I understand all the accusations about me that you've made − my whole life I've been trying to be someone I'm not −" He finally replied, his betrothed's fingers grasping his hand and squeezing it.

"− that's what I mean − stop pretending − be honest with yourself −"

"− do you want me to be honest? − very well then − my mother has never asked my opinion on any important matters − Daemon treats me as if I am an imbecile and mocks me − I am both a first-born son and a bastard − my uncle wants to deprive me of everything, he wants me to be a nobody and why? − because when I was a child I gave him a pig? − god, I regret it, it was a cruel joke − I regret that he lost an eye, I regret that a dragon didn't hatch from his egg − but even if I had said that, what good would it have done − he would have laughed at me saying I am a weak cunt −" He muttered and burst out sobbing like a small child, hiding his face in his hands. Baela embraced him and cuddled his face into her oil-scented neck, stroking his hair.

"− I am grateful to you − I am grateful to you that you are honest with me − I am grateful to you that you have never lied to me −" She whispered and he wept softly, tightening his hands on the material of her gown feeling that the closeness of her body brought him solace.

"− I am grateful to you too − forgive me for not being what you deserve −" He mumbled, sniffling loudly, trying to calm the convulsions of his body and his ragged breathing.

"− I forgive you − I forgive you and ask for your forgiveness −"

When his mother came to his chamber that evening, he knew what decision she had made even before she opened her mouth.

"− Jace −" She began, and he turned his head away, panting with rage, burning tears of humiliation under his eyelids.

"− after all this − after all you've sacrificed − are you going to let them win? −"

"− how would I be a just Queen if I thought only of myself instead of the good of the kingdom? − any other solution will mean war with our own kin − is there anything else more displeasing to the gods? −" She muttered in a breaking voice in which he could clearly hear that she herself was suffering immensely.

"− you let them dictate their terms −" He said in disbelief, looking at her at last. His mother pressed her lips together at his question.

"− no − I intend to impose my own demands on them – none of them will be allowed to sit on the throne − none of them will wear the crown − they will be rulers-regents until their son, the rightful heir, is born −" She replied, forcing herself to be calm.

"− and if no son is born to them? − will you exclude me from the succession then? − your first-born son? −" He mumbled in pain, hitting his chest with his palm. Rhaenyra drew in air loudly, her eyes red from tears of pain and grief.

"− it's my fault − not yours − me and Laenor really tried, but −"

"− I don't want to hear it − I won't listen to it − why did you let me come into the world? −"

"− Jace −" She mumbled − he heard the rustling of her gown as she took a step towards him, but he held up his hand showing that he didn't want her to come near him.

"− I will leave Dragonstone to you − it belongs to me and I can give it to whomever I wish − no one will challenge your rights in this case, you will finally be able to live the life you deserve −"

"− I was meant to be King −" He hissed, and she swallowed hard.

"− as was I − but perhaps we are not meant to be − pride steps before a fall −" She said drily, her chin lifted high.

"− what does Daemon have to say in the matter? −" He asked lowly.

"− he is furious, but he will do as I command − just as you −"

#jace pov #jahaerys targaryen #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond #aemond one eye #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fic #aemond fanfic #aemond smut #aemond angst #hotd angst #hotd smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #canon aemond #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell angst #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character

[watermelonlovershigh]

Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)

Arguments and Confessions {part 2.} (housemate!harry series)

AN: i've been in a writing mood lately so i hope you enjoy me spitting out these stories left and right lol. anyways, here is part 3 to my housemate series. before you ask, yes there will be a part 4 and hopefully a couple more after that. let me know how you liked it and make sure to leave your feedback. thank you and enjoy!

This story contains: mentions of one-night stands, confessions of feelings, slight angst, fluff

{ housemate!harry - friendrry - soft!harry - au harry }

word count- 1,372

Harry confesses that you're the women he likes and after giving you some time to think, you have an eventful conversation about your mutual feelings and how you'd like to move forward within your friendship.

Looking deeply in your eyes, Harry answers clearly, "Her name..... her name is Y/n." The weight of his confession leaves you standing in the kitchen, completely shocked. When you initially asked him about his love interest, you never anticipated that he would reveal his feelings for you. Although he described some of your qualities, you didn't think much of it, as many people can possess similar traits.

Realizing that you need some time to process his words, Harry rises from his stool and states, "I don't expect you to feel the same way about me or anything. I'll give you some space to think, alright?" With that, he turns around and retreats back to his bedroom.

Now standing alone in the kitchen, you find yourself torn about what to do. On one hand, the man who kindly allowed you to stay in his home as a housemate, who eventually became your friend, and whom you've developed feelings for, has just confessed his affection for you. It seems like the ideal outcome, but what if something goes wrong? You would risk losing your best friend and a place to live.

On the other hand, if everything goes well, you could finally experience a fulfilling relationship. You could put an end to the casual encounters and truly understand the intimacy that others have experienced in Harry's bed. You would have the opportunity to feel his touch on your skin and savor his kisses, something you had only imagined during fleeting encounters with strangers.

---------------------------

You head to Harry's bedroom and upon reaching his door, you give it a hesitant knock. A soft voice responds with, "Come in." and you take that as your signal to enter. Inside, you find him sitting up in bed with his cat Pixie beside him, and the TV showing old episodes of Friends.

Approaching his bed slowly, Harry gestures for you to sit beside him. After a deep breath, you confess, "I want you to know that I have feelings for you too, Harry. How could I not? You're kind and sweet, and anyone would be foolish not to have a crush on you. But, I'm afraid."

Harry turns off the TV to focus on you. "Afraid of what, Y/n?" he asks, "We both like each other. What's there to fear?"

"It's not that simple, Harry," you respond with a hint of frustration. Why can't he see your concerns? Maybe it's a gender difference. Men don't worry about relationships as much as women do. Well at least from your personal experiences.

"Can you explain then, please? I want to understand your fears so we can move forward in a way that works for both of us."

Shifting uncomfortably on the bed, you express, "Harry, what if things don't work out between us? What happens then? I could lose a friend and I might not have enough money to cover regular rent in London."

"Y/n, our mutual feelings don't automatically require us to rush into a romantic relationship. We can proceed at a comfortable pace, one day at a time. Even if we don't progress beyond friendship, I value our bond too much to risk losin' it. As for your concern about losin' a place to stay, rest assure that I would never evict you if things don't work out romantically. You were my housemate first and foremost, and that won't change. Well, unless you want to move out someday that is."

Hearing his words have made your eyes gloss over. You can hear the sincerity in his voice and it makes your heart swell. But, you still need some clarification to move forward. "So like, where do we go from here, Harry? I don't want to think we're one thing but you assume we're something else. I don't want to constantly be questioning where we stand. What's too much or what's not enough."

Harry adjusts his posture, leaning closer to you. He carefully reaches out for your hands and clasps them within his larger grasp, holding them gently as he begins to speak. "As I mentioned earlier, Y/n, we can take this slow. Let our connection develop naturally. At this moment, I would describe our relationship as friends, but friends who share mutual emotions. And in response to a question I know you may have, no, I will not be sleepin' with anyone else. And I don't expect..."

Anticipating his next words, you swiftly interject, "No, neither am I. I mean, being involved with someone else intimately. I can promise you that. Besides, I never truly enjoyed having one-night stands. I only sought them out as a means to conceal my feelings for you. But now that my feelings are out in the open, there's no reason to hide them any longer. From now on I only want you."

Chuckling in relief, Harry murmurs, "Just me, huh?" He was incredibly anxious that you might still have the desire to sleep with other people, even though that didn't make much sense after you had confessed your feelings for him. However, he couldn't be entirely certain.

You lean forward, wrapping your arms around Harry's body, embracing him tightly. "Of course, Harry. I would never do that to you. Besides, most of the men I slept with were unsatisfactory, so I'm perfectly fine with giving up my one-night stands."

Harry reciprocates the embrace, then teasingly asks, "Unsatisfactory? Are you tellin' me those muscular, macho men you brought home hardly ever satisfied you?"

You respond, your voice filled with affection against his neck, "That's right. And when they did, it was usually because I was thinking of you."

"Alright, let's end that conversation right here or we'll have a problem on our hands and break our 'takin' it slow' rule." Harry remarks, trying to maintain a sense of caution. If you kept talking about how you always thought of him while having sex with all those strangers, he'd get hard in his pants and he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable right now. Nor does he want to move that fast. Like he said, he genuinely would like to take whatever you are, slow.

You laugh at his words and playfully say, "Can we take a nap? I'm feeling tired. Didn't get much sleep last night."

Harry nods in the embrace you still hold and replies, "Yeah, we can take a nap if you'd like. I didn't get much sleep last night either."

As you sit up, you carefully shift towards Harry's side where he's preparing a space for you to rest. "Seriously?" you inquire. Although you noticed his exhaustion when he entered the kitchen earlier, you didn't consider that it might be due to a lack of sleep.

"Yeah," Harry begins to coo while helping you under his duvet, "felt awful with how I spoke to you last night. The guilt ate me alive and I couldn't sleep."

Now laying side by side, facing each other, you whisper out, "Awe, well you can rest easy now. I forgive you." As your eyes flutter shut, Harry can't help but think about how you're too far away from him. Even though you're literally just six inches apart in reality.

So without thinking, he draws himself closer to you and wraps you in his arms. Which in turn has you pressed up against his clothed chest. "Is this alright?" Harry whispers quietly. Although he wishes to take things slowly, cuddling is typically considered a leisurely activity, isn't it? It remains innocent and platonic.

"Yes, very much alright." you reply and soon after fall asleep. The musky smell Harry produces along with the warmth of his body lulls you right to sleep. It may be only nine in the morning but with your lack of sleep the night before, have no trouble falling unconscious.

Harry also falls into a deep slumber. The comfort of having you in his arms lulls him into a state of relaxation, leading him to quickly doze off. His cat Pixie has now settled at the foot of the bed, peacefully asleep alongside you both. Harry's once anxious room is now filled with tranquility. The unfolding of your friendship will become more apparent when you wake up later today.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

 // @luv-flor7777  // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown  // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar  // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone //  @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry  // @shadowygladiatorlight  // @manifestrry  //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts  // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic rec #friend!harry #friendrry #housemate!harry #housematerry #softrry #soft!harry #harry x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #friends to lovers #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb

[deepestnightcolor]

SO grateful for your fics about our dear boy Sam 🙏🙏🙏 I would love your take on Sam with a more dominant reader if you ever feel so inclined 💕

Thank you sooooo much for your request! It really means the world to me!~

I mulled over this and hope my take on slutty sub Sam is able to satisfy your needs! Enjoy and thank you so much!

☾ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙᴏʏ ☽

ᴀ/ɴ: The request above says it all. Sam's an absolute sub for you, dear reader. Use your powers wisely.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x afab!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 2449 words.

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: sub Sam, bondage, dirty talk, spanking, soft nipple play, game calling, dirty talk, teasing, edging, begging. Sam's dick is pierced, it's canon now, fam.

Breathing seemed almost impossible for poor Sam as his head was resting on the plush of your thighs.

Maybe it was because of your fingers dancing down his bare chest, maybe your intoxicating scent that was surrounding him. Maybe it was the sweet words you whispered to him, telling him what a good boy he was for you.

But in all honesty, it was probably all three combined with the fact that you had firmly tied his hands to the headboard of your shared bed.

Sam simply loved subbing for you. He also loved taking control over you, but this...this always felt rawer to him. The way you always spoke in a hushed whisper that carried an almost threatening undertone always made him melt on the spot. Made him crave to behave. To be your good boy.

"What do you want, Sammy?"

There it was again. Voice barely above a whisper, but so delicious it went straight to his red, hard dick. Pre-cum drooled from the tip already from what you could see. But it was understandable, really. Your hands hadn't rested ever since they had worked on tying him down; tracing circles on his heaving chest, stroking a straight line down his stomach, tracing his v-line with a tender precision. However, the moment you felt the heat radiating from his rock hard erection, you purposefully made your way upwards again.

He opened his mouth to give you an answer - he was a good boy, after all!- just to instead let out a shaky groan when your fingers finally wrapped around the shaft of his dick, suffocating his attempt to speak before it even could have been considered serious.

"I didn't hear you, Sammy." Your answer was clear, sharp. Teasing. You knew exactly what you had done, but that didn't mean you'd let your little sub go without any consequences. Fingers loosening their grip, you allowed the pads of them to wander his dick. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a ghost of a touch. But that was enough for Sam to immediately whimper for you. Whining for you, his slim hips bucked upwards, chasing after what could be; what was so close to being. You grinned to yourself as you saw your lover on your lap - brows furrowed in concentration, mouth open to let the begging sounds slip off his tongue. You loved Sam like this. He was in the palm of your hand, desperate and ready to follow orders. That's why you had to tie him up most of the time - he was an eager boy. Trying to get on your good side at all times, slobbering all over you when you permitted him to touch you.

Humping at you, fumbling your weak spots to try and make you cave.  But today you had special plans for Sammy, which meant you didn't want to cave, yet even tied down he didn't make it easy not to. He was simply delicious all messy and needy like this. Red, drooling cock bucking up into the air with the desperate hope that it would make a difference this time, just to find out that it did not. The disappointment of the realization didn't linger long, quite the opposite. His hips were back in the air the moment they had met the mattress.

It was true - you were quick to punish Sam, but you were just as quick to reward him. Your hand now moved up and down his heated-up shaft, watching the reaction you forced out of the blond. His back was arched in, hips up in the air as if he feared you would stop as soon as he rested his butt back down on the mattress.

"Sammy~" you pressed, your thumb now actually finding its place on his tip, spreading the pre-cum with slow strokes. Sam was gasping for air, trying to fill his lungs enough for speaking to become possible, but you were growing impatient, clearly shown by the smack to his pretty thigh.

"You! You, I want you, pretty..ohhh fuckkkk."

However, you were far from stopping. You shifted around, now straddling your boyfriend, looking down at him with lustful eyes. Yoba, he wanted you. His whole body language told you so. From his tensed muscles to his dark blue eyes peering up at you, silently begging you for more. Of course, you weren't a heartless monster. Quite the opposite, actually. Just as horny for your boyfriend with need bubbling in the pit of your stomach, filling your veins, and clouding your brain. Your cunt was drooling for him, wetness coating your lips, your clit throbbing for Sam. You just had to rut against that pretty pierced dick. Show it the love it deserved.

"Baby, please. Fuck. Please, oh please, I am begging you... I need you...-" He gasped, his hands working against the restraints that clung to his wrists as if it made any difference; they held him to the headboard with an iron grip. A smack landed on his hip again, making your boyfriend whine, but the twitching of his thick shaft beneath you told you how turned on he truly was. "I don't think that's what a good boy does, Sammy," you sighed while shaking your head. But fuck - you really weren't a monster! And only a monster could resist that heavenly throbbing and pulsing against your wet pussy, the thought of the metal of his piercing gliding along your walls while you used your boyfriend as your personal fucktoy.

Lining up Sam with you always made you quiver in excitement. The man was big, slightly curved, and fucking thick. It was easy for you to say that he filled you like no other could.

"Look at you," you sighed as you rocked your hips back and forth, biting your lip. Your boyfriend stared up at you with awe, his mouth still hanging open as if he was about to say something, but all that left him were moans and gentle whines of your name. His cheeks were flushed, and his chest went up and down fast. His hands now continuously worked against his restraints, but when the realization that it was of no avail hit him, he decided to change tactics. His hips bucked up, an attempt to make you move faster in his lap.

"Ba-" he tried to urge you, but the feeling of your sweet, sweet walls wrapping around his hard dick made his world spin. "That's my boy," you cooed, looking down at the taller man, your own thighs quivering as you tried to adjust to him. The stretch felt painful, but in a way that made you crave more. The blond was lying beneath you, slender fingers pressing into the palms of his hands as he tried to savour the feeling. His brain barely was able to handle it, though, leaving him no choice but to babble. You attempted to figure out what he was saying, yet you didn't catch much more than "so good" and "fuck" and maybe, you were unsure about that one, "mine".

Sam's string of words could flow for all you cared, you weren't really able to understand him either way. So instead of wasting any more time you began to move your hips delicately. Starting out with a pace. So slow it almost drove you crazy, yet you kept staring at the handsome man beneath you, because his face simply made it worth it. SO full of pleasure and strain as he needed more, so divine.

"Behave," you threatened, giving his sensitive nipples another tug. Sam nodded, his ability to form coherent sentences seemingly out the window again as you began to grind your hips into him again. This time you moved up and down his shaft faster, with less regard to teasing him. The metal of his cock piercing just did something to you as it bumped and slid across your squishy walls, the tip of his cock entering you deeper and deeper with each bounce. Your boyfriend was obviously struggling beneath you, his legs twitching as he desperately tried to refrain himself from bucking up, his breathing shaking. He wanted to beg you to keep going, for you to fuck yourself stupid on him if you so pleased, but he wasn't able to.

The result he achieved was the opposite; you stilled your hips completely, leaning down so your faces were just about to meet. Another smack filled the room as you slapped Sam's hip, your fingers pinching into his nipples right after.

The whimper that left your lover's throat was absolutely unholy, eyes half-lidded as he gave you a small pout.

"That's no way to behave now, is it, Sammy?" You cooed, slapping his chest with a scowl. "Maybe I should just stop...you can fuck the air if you can’t keep your hips still. Maybe it will bring you as much pleasure as this pussy does, hm?"

"No! Oh, fuck, please! Don't, I beg you, I promise I'll behave!"

His lower lip was quivering - he had just gotten you this far, and now you would just stop? He wouldn't be able to handle that-

"Fuck, Sammy~ Love your fat cock inside of me...Lookin' so pretty for me, too. Do you like the way I'm riding you?" You cooed, but your hushed tone was interrupted by a low moan his dick tore out of you. The stretch was delicious, and by Yoba, you were so lucky that he was all yours.

Sam nodded eagerly to answer, which made you roll your eyes. He knew better than that, didn't he?

 A breathless moan escaped his wet lips and he nodded eagerly, his whole body melting beneath you as you used him just how you pleased, riding his penis hard and fast. The blond watched you with hunger, and it was obvious just how badly he wanted to get his hands on you. His fingers twitched whenever he deemed you in reach, and his arm muscles strained to touch you.

"Sam," you warned, leaning down and biting down on his pink nipple, coaxing a hoarse moan out of him as his upper body snapped up as far as the ties around his wrists would allow. "Yes! Yes! L-love it!"

"And what do we say if we like something, Sammy?"

"Thank you!"

"That's my good boy."

You simply didn't care. His dick was there to please you, and the both of you knew it. Breathing heavily, you moaned his name tenderly, fucking yourself sloppily. You had to steady yourself on his shoulders, the feeling of his shaft filling you slowly driving you insane. His moans, so strained and full of despair, his eyes, full of adoration that bled into lust-

It was obvious that his head was spinning while he tried to find the right words, and you made it even harder by lightly rocking forward every now and then.

"I- gonna- cu-"

You abruptly stopped, even though your whole body screamed at you not to. You were so close yourself, but...

"Mhh...you haven't begged enough today, Sam, don'tcha think?" You asked, a dramatic sigh leaving your lips. On the inside, you wanted to just untie him and have him fuck you. He always fucked you so well when you riled him up like this. It was like a beast that was unleashed; but you just had to stay strong.

You rocked your hips forward once, straining a gasp out of him. "Maybe...mhhh...maybe I should leave you here for a while...let you...figure it out yourself~"

"No! Fuck, please! Please, please, please! I'm begging you! Let me cum! I'm...I'm your good boy! Pretty please, I'll do anything! I'll be good! I am good! Please!" He cried, blue eyes swimming in tears.

"Shame. I thought you learned your lesson."

You began to lift your hips, his cock just about to leave the warmth of your sweet. Wet walls  completely when Sam finally snapped into action.

Again, you weren't a monster. So when Sam whispered a final "please" you finally allowed him to bottom out inside of you. "Help me a little here, my little slut. Come on," you cooed, lifting your hips to bounce on him again.

You wouldn't have needed to tell the blond twice. He bent his knees and planted his feet firmly against the mattress, using the newfound leverage to pound into you. His tip bullied into you as you worked against him, and fuck, you loved it. The sound of skin against wet skin and moans filled the bedroom again, just like Sam's incoherent rambling picked up again.

An actual sob tore from deep within him, a few tears trickling down his cheeks. His balls felt so heavy and you were basically sucking him off while you clung to him. He wanted, no, he needed to cum! He was a good boy! He found his words quicker this time, tears running down his face as he looked at you: "Please...please, please, let me cum! Balls...they hurt...you look so good! Feel so good.. Just...please," he sobbed, rutting his hips into you gently. His dick was drooling inside of you now, and the sloppy sounds filling the air, combined with his begs...

You were a panting mess yourself now, Sam's senseless pounding making the knot in your stomach grow. Sam didn't seem much further from the edge, almost immediately begging for you.

"Please! Please! Don't stop, please just let me-"

You didn't allow the blond to finish his sentence, instead, completely sitting down on him and halting his hips by clenching your thighs around them.

"I'm listening, Sammy?"

You began to ride him again, bouncing on him like he belonged to you. Sam's sobs didn't still, quite the opposite; they intensified the closer he tethered to the edge. "Can I-"

"Cum for me, pretty boy. Fill me up!"

But for now, you just had to lay your head on his chest for a moment, listening to his racing heart with closed eyes. Your hands were stroking through strands of blond hair as you tried to re-enter reality.

Sam didn't waste any time, his hips ramming upwards as rope after rope of cum filled you up, painting your bullied walls white. You felt so, so stuffed full, but whenever you thought there could be nothing more, Sam’s dick proved you wrong.

A hitch in your breathing could be heard, your own back arching inwards as he held on to your thighs, your legs spasming as your orgasm ed through your body. The sensation left the two of you breathless; walls tight around Sam's shaft, his cum mixing with your juices. You'd make him lick you clean later.

"That's my good boy."

#sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #sdv sam #stardew valley farmer #stardew valley smut #sdv fanfic #fanfic #smut #sdv sam x reader

[mariasont]

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus - S.R

a/n: im so sorry in advance

‧₊˚ ✩°｡���♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x reader

summary: in which spencer needed you but he needed drugs more

warnings: drug use, angst, imperfect characters

wc: 2.9k

December 19th, 2021

You were tired, each movement a chore as you fumbled with the key and heaved the door open to your shared apartment. It welcomed you with its hushed darkness, broken only by the intrusive light of the streetlamps outside, which bled through the windows and stretched shadows across the room.

It was quiet, too quiet. Keys clinked quickly onto the counter. "Spence? Are you here?"

No answer. Your brows contracted in a frown as you moved with increased urgency through the apartment, heading down the hall to your shared bedroom. There he was, on the bed, his back to you, shoulders tensed and drawn up as though bracing against something.

At the creak of the door, he turned towards you in a slow motion, his eyes glossed over, movements sluggish. The signs were unmistakable--the ghostly colorlessness draped over his skin, the faint tremor in his hands, the beads of sweat on his forehead.

His speech was slurred whether he realized it or not, words melding into each other. "Hey... I didn't hear you come in."

A cold hand gripped at your heart, dragging it down to the soles of your feet, as the vial on the bedside table glared back at you.

"Spencer, you promised," your words trailed off, choked by the tears that now glistened at the edge of your eyes, your hand dragging through your hair, while the other reached out for the bottle. "You promised me."

His gaze lingered on you, heavy and slow, as if each movement you made was effortful to follow. "I...I know. I just...I tried."

"But we've been doing so well. The therapy sessions, the support groups. I thought it was helping. You told me it was helping. You've been clean for a month."

You were trembling, your eyes searching his, but you could barely stand to look at him. It was a bitter pill that you didn't want to swallow--that the person he was right now wasn't him. It wasn't the man you loved, the one who stayed up late to braid your hair, the man who laughed at your jokes even when they weren't funny and he didn't understand them, the man you envisioned as the father of your children.

"What happened?"

"I didn't mean to."

June 2nd, 2021

You were humming to yourself, the melody trailing off as you placed your bag down, but your steps towards the refrigerator halted by the unexpected clatter from the bathroom. You froze in the spot—Spencer should be at work. Your heart was pounding, with a boyfriend who did what he did for a living you were always prepared for the worst.

Your hand found the pepper spray in your bag as you inched forward, the distance to the bathroom shrinking with each pulse of your racing heart. The door was barely open, but the sliver of view revealed Spencer, syringe clutched tightly, his damning evidence, desperation drawn across his face.

"Spencer? What are you doing?"

Shock rooted you to the spot, watching him spin around--a ghost of himself, eyes alarmingly wide and bloodshot, as he furtively tucked the syringe out of sight.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Your body reacts before your mind can, pulling away sharply from the venom in his voice. It's a voice you don't recognize. He didn't even speak to you like that during arguments. Confusion clouds your mind as you retreat, one cautious step after another.

"I...I forgot my lunch. I came home to grab it. Spencer, are you okay? What was that?"

His face crumbled, his hand outstretched in a silent plea, but you, still trembling with apprehension, still unsure, took another step back, your gut twisting at the way hurt reflected in his gaze.

"I can't—it's not what it looks like, okay?"

"But it is, isn't it?" Your hands are clasped behind you, knuckles white, eyes searching his face for something, anything. "It's exactly what it looks like. You're using."

His shoulders sag, his hand reaching behind him to stable himself on the counter as he ran a hand over his face. You were well-acquainted with his past; though you hadn't been there, his stories painted a hauntingly clear picture. If the man responsible wasn't already dead, you'd take him out with your own bare hands. 

"But Spencer it's been eight years... what? I just, why now?"

He gave you no response, just the slow, defeated bob of his head, chin sinking to his chest. You released a weary breath, the act itself a release of the pain that tightened around your heart at the sight of him. You closed the distance between you, your hands reaching out, fingers aching to weave through the strands of his hair.

"Hey, look at me, it's okay. We can get you help, okay? Everything's going to be fine, baby."

"No!" His voice erupted, too forceful, but it faded as fast as it came, his words turning to a raw scratch. "No, no... 'M sorry, sweetheart. I can't let this get out. I could lose my job."

Tears carved a path down your cheeks, unchecked, as you held his gaze, hands fastened around his arms.

"Spencer, I don't care about your job right now. I care about you," you plead with him, your fingers slipping between his. "You need help."

"You wouldn't get it, okay?" he murmured, his curls tumbling forward as his hands left yours to gently cup your face. His hands were cold. "Just give me some time to handle it. I'll stop, okay? I can stop."

You were silent, the lack of experience of the situation paralyzing your thoughts, rendering you unsure. How were you supposed to go about this? Who could you tell? You knew the consequences of telling Hotch or even Morgan, knew the depression that would follow if Spencer lost his job. You wanted to believe him; you really did.

"Okay."

December 19th, 2021

"Okay, let's do rehab."

Spencer stands from the bed, invading your space, his voice rising with a sharp edge that was reserved for moments like this. "I'm not letting you ship me away to some facility."

"Spencer, it's not shipping you away, it's getting you help, real help. I gave you a chance, okay? Multiple, actually. I did what you asked. I did everything you asked, please baby."

With each step he took, his actions grew increasingly erratic, and his words more fragmented, as he raked his fingers through his tousled hair. "You don't understand! I watched my mom, her experience with those places... I won't end up like that."

You lowered your voice, infusing it with a softness as you extended your hand towards him, only for him to dismissively shake off your touch. "Please, you're not yourself. You are so much more than this... than what it's making you."

"You don't think I know that? You think I want this?"

You took a step back, an action that had become second nature to you.

"I know. Spence, I know. Please, I'm on your side. I'm always going to be on your side," you pleaded. Your words were desperate. "I just need you to fight, and sometimes fighting is accepting that you need help."

The eyes that had once held such clarity and focus, now seemed distant, looking through you rather than at you. His words a blurred murmur. "I can stop. I just need time... I can handle it."

The familiarity of the words seemed to hit you like a truck, robbing the breath out of your lungs, tears and snot trickling down your face.

"How much time, Spence? How many more chances? I can't watch the man I love disappear before my eyes, please."

August 12th, 2021

Your back throbbed with a dull ache from a day of cleaning, but the task, weirdly enough, was one of your favorite things to do. Your fingers drummed against the wood as you started to put away Spencer's laundry, only to be interrupted by the unexpected feel of something cold and hard in the drawer. You knew it before you saw it. Inside, a collection of vials lay in a row, mocking you. 

Your heart plummeted, fingers curling around the vials, the chill of the glass seeming to seep into your skin. You felt a scream clawing at your throat and tears brimming your eyes, but your voice was trapped in silence. Each step was fueled by anger as you made your way to the bathroom. The toilet bowl gaped at you, and without hesitation, you flung the drugs into the water, freezing mid-action as the front door opened. 

Footsteps—his footsteps—echoed as if he had a sixth sense. "What the hell are you doing?"

You reached for the flush, only for his hand to encase yours in a startling grip, your eyes flaring wide as you tore your hand back. "Let go of me."

"You have no right."

"Yeah, Spencer? I have no right?" You hiss, shoving him just enough to carve out some distance. You couldn't breathe. "Why do you still have this? You told me you stopped."

You watched as he crumbled before you, tears prickling at his eyes. Each breath you took was unsteady, but your actions were certain as you pressed him into you, as close as humanly possible. Desperation clawed at you; you wanted this to stop. You wanted to take his pain, to make it yours, you'd do anything.

"'M sorry," he choked out, barely audible, his hand cradling the back of your head while the other clung to your waist. "I'm so sorry."

December 19th, 2021

"So, I'm the one at fault?"

"That's not what I'm saying—,"

Neither of you were making sense now; his confusion mirrored your own, and both of you knew this. You were angry, he was angry, both of you a well of grief, feeling everything and nothing simultaneously. 

"Well, it sure sounds like it Spencer."

"I just need...space."

The words bit you on the ass, prompting a hollow laugh to rise from your throat--a sound that bore a closer resemblance to a mangled sob than anything.

"Space? You don't get space, Spencer." Your words didn't sound like yourself, like you were listening to someone else speak them. 

May 23rd, 2019

You were sweet. It was what had first drawn Spencer to you, the way you radiated a warmth that was almost overwhelming to everyone. You were the kind of person who never met a stranger, nurtured by your innate effort to go out of your way to put a smile on people's faces.

There you stood, delicately snipping away at a bouquet's ends, a soft hum escaping your lips, with blue headphones nestled over your ears, isolating you in a peaceful bubble as you worked. You hadn't seen him approach, frankly, hadn't heard him either, so when you chanced a glance upwards, his unexpected figure prompted a yelp, sending the flowers tumbling to the ground in a colorful cascade.

In a clumsy rush, your headphones were swept off, a stream of apologies tumbling from your lips as you absorbed the sight of him. Short brown hair that framed a face with eyes so stunningly brown they shimmered like molten gold in the light, and he was impeccably dressed in a grey blazer over a rich red sweater, with a crocked tie and white dress shirt underneath. 

You thought he'd have to be dying of heat, but he didn't show it.

"Sorry," he murmured, a toothless smile spreading wide across his face as he dipped his head for a closer glimpse of you.

Under the weight of his gaze, you felt a sudden surge of self-awareness, regretting not putting a little more effort into your appearance that morning.

"No, that's my bad, I should really try and pay attention to my surroundings more often."

He gave you another smile in response and that one nearly killed you, teeth and all, and it was so disarmingly handsome it felt like a bolt of lightning had struck, almost knocking the wind out of you. 

You were seized by the kind of overwhelming yearning you'd only seem in those cheesy romance movies. You wanted to ask him out, but that was a first for you, so you found yourself blatantly ogling him, utterly transfixed.

"Do you work here?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah! Sorry, how can I help you?"

"Do you have any bouquets with Lathyrus odoratus?" he asked, eyes roving among the arrangements. "They're a member of the Facabeae family. Interestingly, they have the unique capability to convert atmospheric nitrogen into a more usable form through nitrogen fixation."

You gave him a lopsided smile. "Do you just know that?"

"Uh, yeah."

You hummed in response, fingers tapping the counter before moving between aisles to find what he was looking for. "These?"

"Perfect," he said with a nod.

As you assembled the bouquet, your hands moved nimbly, and you couldn't help but steal a glance at his left hand--no ring in sight, a promising detail. But he was buying flowers, that couldn't be a good sign for you.

"Your girlfriend will be ecstatic with these beauties."

You thought you were being slick, but he'd later tell you he saw right through you, I mean, of course he did.

"Oh, no, no girlfriend," he clarified, almost too quickly, sending a flutter through you heart. You concealed your budding smile by bowing your head, giving the bouquet your full attention. "They're for my mother."

You practically melted. "That's so sweet..." 

You lingered on the words, feigning the need to ask for his name, it was a stretch, sure, you didn't really need his name in this context.

"Spencer. Spencer Reid."

You returned your name with a beaming smile. "Well, it's wonderful to meet you, Spencer Reid."

You presented him with the completed bouquet, ringing him up while discreetly stealing glances his way.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, anytime."

He came back every week after that.

December 19th, 2021

"You're not the person I fell in love with."

Now that stung. You felt like he had just knocked you on your ass and he hadn't laid a hand on you. Mostly because he was right. You weren't. 

You were on edge more than not, your patience wearing thin more than you'd like to acknowledge, and you couldn't remember the last time you had flirted with Spencer like you used to. You couldn't remember the last time you begged for him to come to bed just to feel his arms around you, couldn't remember the last time he'd come home early just to see you, the last time you'd had sex.

You used to be so happy. You used to surprise Spencer with his favorite homemade cookies, leave hand drawn comics on his desk, carefully adjust his tie every morning, listen so intently to every lengthy explanation he had for everything.

You wanted to blame him, wanted to scream, to fight, to kick, but your body refused to cooperate. You were cemented in place, your stare heavy, silently begging him to take it all back, but the words hung in the air, unrevoked.

"You're right." A softness flickered in his eyes, his hand moving forward, but you stepped back. "Don't touch me."

"I didn't mean that—,"

"You meant it, or you wouldn't have said it," you said, your voice cracking as tears stained your face. "I can't keep doing this, Spencer. I've tried, god knows how much I've tried, but it's like you're not even here. I don't recognize my own reflection, let alone us. I love you, Spencer, with a love so deep it fucking scares me, but I can't stand by and watch you kill yourself."

April 23rd, 2024

"One sec!"

The bell over the door jingled, prompting you to snap the inventory boxes closed, nudging them back with your hip as you maneuvered through the storefront, balancing the boxes towards the desk. 

"Here let me help!"

The boxes obscured your view, but a hand with neatly polished nails gracefully relieved you of one, placing it gently on the ground.

You let out a light laugh, easing your own box to the floor. "Thanks, I somehow always underestimate the weight of soil."

The woman was breathtaking, the kind that could make you second-guess the fairness of fate. She seemed more suited to the glossy pages of a fashion magazine than the worn-down, way overdue for a deep clean, flower shop.

"How can I help you?"

"Just a dozen roses, please."

You offered her a brief nod, reaching for one of the pre-arranged roses from the shelf behind you and placing it down on the counter.

"Could you leave a note?" she asked, her glittering finger lightly pressing against the fabric of her dress. Now that was a rock.

"Of course," you say, your hand deftly sliding open the drawer beneath you to retrieve a card. "Just let me know what you want it to say."

As she spoke, your pen hurried to keep pace. "A year of marriage and a lifetime to go."

You flashed her a warm smile. "Congratulations. Who should I make it out to?"

"Spencer. Spencer Reid."

Nausea churned in your gut, somersaulting into a sharp, searing sting. This must be some cruel joke. But the date wasn't April 1st, and the woman's serious expression stripped away any hope of humor. 

You swallowed hard, writing the name of the man you'd thought would be your husband. While ringing her up, you did everything in your power to conceal the tremble in your hand and the tears that were just moments away from falling. He hated roses.

Your eyes followed her as she left, watching her every step to the car and out of the parking lot, until she was just a speck in the distance. The realization hit you like another wave of nausea--why could he get clean for her and not you?

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst