#wine colour suit for ladies

[gillori]

Four Reasons Why Co-ord Sets Is a Great Fashion Choice

Gillori has a wide collection of co ord sets online allowing you to find your favourite designs and colours according to your preference and personality.

Visit : https://gillori.com/collections/co-ord-sets

#co ord sets online #wine colour suit for ladies #yellow suit women #Gillori #party wear sharara set #co ord sets women

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Her Words

Summary: You are introduced with the prince as his second option for a marriage in your family. But how will the Prince react to you own affliction and the backlash from your family |  Mini-Series Masterlist

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

A/N: You all asked for a part 2 so ask and you shall receive! Again thank you for the request on this one it was really fun to write :)

Warnings: hitting, some sexual suggestions

You could feel your handwriting getting progressively worse as the weeks went by.

That was one thing you had not considered as a side-effect from spending so much time with Aemond.

Every hallway, every corner, every walk in the garden. There was always some off-chance that your paths would cross. And every time this coincidence seemed to happen, there was a stupid smile on your face and your hands grip on your notebook seemed less and less. One a few of occasions he had dared to close the space between you, whether it was to brush a hair from your face or to run a warm hand over yours. All of this serving to send warmth to your cheeks that a smile that reached your eyes.

Nobody was more surprised of this behaviour, than Aemond himself. Though he would never admit it to himself.

He had already gifted you one book, written entirely in cursive Valyrian, promising to read you through it, to teach you how to pronounce the words like a native. The book had been kept well and separate from the rest of them in the library. The cover was a wine colour and there was not a rip on it.

And when he extended the book out to you, your hands delicately traced the patterns on the front, inspecting all the details as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Your eyes had found his, wide and bright with gratitude and a slight film of tears coated them, mouth pulling into a line to stop yourself from crying at the kind gesture.

 "Ziry iksos issa jaelagon naejot rȳbagon ao pikībagon bisa, issa riñnykeā"

 When he spoke Valyrian, it almost seemed too perfect. His voice was suited to it, and it was a shame that he could not speak it all the time. The way he formed the words, his intonation, all serving to set off a spark inside you. And at the notion that he spoke only to you. For you.

It is my wish to hear you read this, my lady.

The words were sweet. But you relished in the way he said them more so.

The book nestled in your arms, you looked down, trying to hide the blush that very quickly was heating your face from the Prince before you. Your hand smoothed over your clothed arm, picking at the wrinkles in it with anxiety. Your hand went to your side and the mind raced at the notion that your notebook was not there.

And he was stood before you, regarding you and the way your anxious face formed being separated from your notebook. Of course, it had not been an accident. You had dared for this day to leave it behind, but now the space where it would have been seemed endless. Like those soldiers who return from battle with a limb missing, but still feeling it, still being able to control it.

Your eyes briefly met Aemond's and he could see the panic in your eyes. And you need not be panicked or anxious, you knew he was patient and kind, despite appearances.

"gūrogon aōha jēda…" He said quietly, he had his hands laced behind his back and his good eye looked down on you softly.

Take your time.

He looked so peaceful it bought a pain on your heart. Nobody was as patient as him. Nor had anyone in the past been.

You send him a ghost of a smile in thanks, looking away to pull in a long breath of air, so much so that your lungs ached. You let yourself exhale first before bringing another burst of air in, mouth open to form the words,

"i-iska…no, iksā to-l-lī sȳz…" you manage, the nerves being the cause of it more than anything, "…d-dārilaros Aemond…"

You are too kind, Prince Aemond.

You dared look back up at him once you'd finished the sentence. There was that look again, the darkened look he always gives you whenever you say his name. Your grip on the book tightened once again seeing him take a step towards you and he could hear a breath get caught in your throat. He was so close you could see all the details of his dragon-shaped clasps on his tunic. So close you could smell his scent around you. So close that you thought he might touch you.

"nyke hae ziry skori vestrā ñuha brōzi…"  

I like it when you say my name.

His hand came to a lock of your hair at the side of your face, running the strands through his dextrous fingers. His other fingers ran across your jaw, sending a chill through you, only to come to rest his palm on your cheek. His motions were so slow and calculated that it sent a heat through your body that settled in your stomach. You swallowed back, suddenly nervous in his presence, even more so when you felt his thumb trace the outside of your lip.

Your eye never moved from his.

"ivestragon ziry aril"

Say it again.

To anyone else it would have been a command. But he seemed desperate to hear it again and a shuddered breath came from you again.

And before you could even prepare yourself, do all your breathing and calming, the words seemed to pass your lips as naturally as the sun rises over the horizon.

"Aemond…"

He was so close still, a smirk on his face and a smile on your own. All anxiety seemed pressed down below the surface, replaced with something new. Something you thought you would never experience.

Desire.

A desire for his company. For his understanding and patience. But also a desire for him. For him to be pressed to you as if in need and desperation. You could feel your throat constrict at the mere thought.

"kostan ūndegon skoros iksā otāpagon…" He started.

I can see what you are thinking.

"…ñuha riña"

Against his better judgement, he withdrew his hand from you to place behind his back once more, standing back to revel in the effect he had on you. You knew what he was doing and it was not original in the slightest, but it still made you smile bashfully, fingers desperately gripping the book he had given you.

He cleared his throat as if he himself was also nervous, " kessa nyke ūndegon ao tolī…tolī ñuha gūrēñare?" he asked. Shall I see you later, after my training.

You nodded in earnest and watched as he turned to leave, his gaze on yours the entire time until his back faced you. Marvelling at his form as he walked away, he took one more glance back before rounding the corner and you wondered how someone could be so expressive with only one eye. And yet even the smallest glance could send a spark through you like no other. That, combined with his words, was the greatest pleasure you had known.

Even the way he walked away served to stir you so. The way his long legs carried his strides and the way he commanded his space with his form, such confidence at face value and yet so often, in your shared language, he had said that it was not always this way. He had learned the cold stare of feigned confidence through the many years he spent hiding himself away, learning to use his words as his weapon and training his body to be his deadliest.

Who would think that a man like this could be so gracious in the presence of a woman.

Of you.

Hurriedly, you half-ran back to your chambers, letting out a deep breath at being alone and able to let out your thoughts on the man. The book he had gifted you was placed lovingly on your bed as a maid softly knocked at your door. All you could do was face the mirror and uncontrollably smile as she loosened the ties of your dress, pulling the gown off your shoulders to pool at your feet.

"You seem in good spirits, my lady" she remarked, preparing the other dress to be worn at the feast. You could tell that when she said it, she was smiling, "Would the Prince have anything to do with that?"

In the mirror you met her gaze very briefly and shrugged, her hm in response seemed to satisfy her question. Without pressing any further, she draped the dress at your feet and once stepped inside pulled the heavy garment up your body to fasten at your front. This maid was quick about her work and laced it effortlessly at the front and at the back, using metal ones at the front that were coated with gold to compliment the deep forest colour of the gown.

Once the skirts were smoothed down, you observed your figure in the mirror. It was quite possibly the only thing you wore which truly fit you and it was here you felt you looked truly beautiful, for the first time maybe ever. All the small gold fastening attached at the front reminded you of the endless times you had seen Queen Alicent with her seven-pointed star accessories, and you thought she had looked beautiful then.

One your hair was styled the way you preferred, not overly braided, the maid stepped back to admire her own work.

"Beautiful, my lady"

You nod your head in thanks as she takes her leave.

You yourself look on your silhouette and shake slightly. To be his betrothed is one thing, but to be his wife. To tame the blood of the dragon. You felt underequipped for the task at hand.

But you had already conquered him. You just did not know it yet.

You had been seated at the table for some time with one of your older brothers before people started to file into the hall. Of course, this wasn't the first time you had been in this room but it had been so altered for the feast that it was unrecognisable. There was a long table in the middle of the room with a red tablecloth and many candles decorating the middle, their flames barely flickering the room was so quiet.

Glancing over to your brother, he had his head in his hand, probably severely hungover. His eyes were closed so tightly that you thought that he might be in pain, and you half thought to ask him if he was alright but decided against it. For he had not spoken a single word to you in the weeks your family had been guests to King Viserys and Lady Alicent.

With a sigh you smooth your hands over your gown and clasp your hands together, sending a glare over to your brother who whispered shut up at your sigh.

You could not even make sound in front of your family. The kindness served to you by Aemond had made you realise how badly they treated you. Especially your father.

The echoes of fast footsteps broke you from your trance and you looked over at the entrance to see you older sister, arms hurriedly beside her in her half-run and a fierce stare tracking the room.

Her daggered eyes landed upon you, finger pointed in your direction.

"You!" the words came from her like a stab.

Her fierce look had you on your feet, a questioning look on your face as your sister made for you across the room, your eldest brother not far behind in his own half-run. The other drunken brother furrowed his brows in curiosity and all time seemed to slow as your sister threw all her weight into her palm to strike you across the face.

You could barely register the pain in your face until you looked back into your sister's hateful eyes which is when the pain started to bloom across your cheek and jaw. More shocked than anything right now, you raised your hand to your now burning face to touch, it was not sore yet but it certainly would be. Your sister looked unnaturally angry, so much so that the lines around her mouth were now visible and she was shaking. Her eyes were scrunched up with her expression, mouth hanging open slightly to say something.

"You fucking whore" she spat at you, her hand came to your bare arm to twist the skin there and you let out a cry at the pain. But she would not let go and seemed to dig her fingernails into you even further, even at the sudden presence of your eldest brother and entrance of your father.

"What is the meaning of this!" your father's voice boomed but your sister never took her eyes off you. Afraid that if she would, you would escape her tight grip.

"How did you do it, hm?" she asked, eye boring into you, "The Prince could not have fallen for an idiot like you…"

Your mouth formed into a flat line in an attempt to deflect her unkind words, pushing the brewing tears back, but an ever-present feeling was there also. Anger.

"Let her go, sister" Your eldest brother was at her side, hand hooked under her arm to pull her away. Not one look from him was given to you.

Your father was not far behind, his booming voice aching for his daughter to release her hold on you, noting the arrival of Queen Alicent into the hall, who looked shocked at the whole situation.

"What did you do then, fuck him?" she snapped and you could feel your anger bubble inside of you. Mouth open ready to say something, the familiar block stopped you, but your sister was so close, so you thought to opt for a whisper if nothing else. You could no just stand idly by while she disrespected you. That is something you had learnt from him. In only the few weeks you had known him, he seemed to have taught you more than your family ever had.

"N-n.." you start, and a moment of surprise passes on your sister's face, but the anger remains, "…not all of us…h-have to…"

She seemed to mull over the words for a long time, fingernails pushing so hard into your skin you were sure there would be bruising and welts. And it was as if it was a language she had not know, you could see her bounce the words in her head. Or perhaps she had never bothered to hear for the sound of her sister's voice before.

It all came down on your sister so quickly and she let a sinister smile pass on her face at the understanding of your words.

"You dare take the Prince from me…" she cursed, her grip tightening like a vice once more around you and you closed your eyes once more to brace yourself for another strike.

"Care to tell me why your hands are on my betrothed?" a voice rang out loud and deep and your eyes popped open again to find Aemond at the doorway, hands ever clasped behind his back, his cold, hard stare at your sister.

Her head spun around with such speed, you thought it might pop off and her confused gaze met the Prince's, but it was not long before a sinister smile returned, her hands still on you.

"I am your betrothed" she returned.

Aemond turned his head so that he could face the sister straight on, nothing needed to be said, saying enough with his gaze entire. The room seemed deathly quiet as he took his few steps towards your sister, his eye never met yours, not even once. There was danger in the room and he felt he had to address it.

"Aemond…" Alicent muttered, trying to distract him. But it was no use. He was trained directly on your sister and you could feel her façade slip away by the second as she shrunk under his look.

"Release her" he ordered. When your sister did not move, he sent a hooded glare down at her, "Now"

It was clear your sister was too out of it to move, so your eldest brother pulled her towards him, with no resistance. Your groaned in pain as your sister's fingernails came from your skin, leaving red half-moon shaped marks on you. Aemond's hand was on your arm instantly, inspecting the damage your sister inflicted on you, his touch soft against the violence that had ensued before. His fingers traced the marks before allowing his eye to meet yours and then your cheek, seeing the way the skin was inflamed, red and no doubt sore.

It was difficult to gauge his emotion at this time. But all you knew it that he was angry.

Turning to your siblings and father, he took your arm softly to push you behind him, whispering to you softly.

"Gaomas ziry ōdrikagon?" Does it hurt? He asked.

You could not dignify him with a lie and simply replied quietly, "M-mirrī…" A little.

Aemond could not tolerate anyone laying a hand on you, and you seemed to understand this as he faced your family.

"What was that?" you father asked, wide-eyed and staring at you. Silence filled the room once more and your father shuffled embarrassed, "Answer me"

"She spoke" your sister said, "So it does speak"

Her laugh filled the room, that cackle that Aemond hated so much. The one that inspired him to cast her aside, now even more annoying.

"You mean to me that you can speak all this time?" your father says, a hint of annoyance in his voice, "And then once in the company of the Prince, suddenly your idiocy is gone?"

"She is a whore" your sister seethes, but your father orders her to be quiet.

"I would suggest you use different words " Aemond warned, his voice low and protective in the face of your family.

The otherwise quiet Queen Alicent seemed to step forward, using her body to separate the two parties. For a long time, she had been the dividing force between families and had no issues stepping back into that responsibility now.

"That is enough" she said softly, her eyes forever on your father, "My Lord, no promises have been made regarding joining our houses"

All at once, the reality of the situation seemed to hit your father. His face changed from one scorned, angry and exhausted to something more hopeful.

"He is meant to be my husband!" your sister called out, eldest brother still holding onto her arm. She looked positively furious and with the opportunity would most certainly have broken free to wreak havoc once more.

"Be quiet" your father warned. Looking towards you, he jutted his jaw upwards, feeling as if suddenly he had the upper hand, "This marriage will still benefit us no doubt and you have done this family an unexpected favour, your Grace"

Alicent wasn't enjoying a moment of this and simply looked onwards, almost dissociated. Your father's tone seemed predatory, his gaze creeping back over to you and Aemond. Your fingers rested on his hand, delicately gripping him and thanking him for his support in this awkward situation.

Aemond cocked his head, knowing your father had more to say.

Stepping forward, your father dared to glower at the Prince.

"You have taken this halfwit from me, at last"

It was clear it was aimed to set Aemond off. And it had almost worked as the man before you went to take a step forward, only to be met with your hand on his chest. Confused, he looked down at you but you simply shook your head. His look was difficult to decipher as many had often said before you, but you refused to allow him to act how others perceived him, so with a soft hand on his chest you gently pushed him back to take your place before him. One hand slipped into his, you faced your father, who had a sick, satisfied smile on his face.

You could see his gaze waver slightly when you went to open your mouth.

He was the one you feared the backlash from the most. Mother, at least, had been somewhat patient and accepting until her death. But after that, it only served to turn your father bitter. If he would not be patient for his other children, there was little hope for yourself growing up with any form of endearment. What could be expected of such a man.

You felt the familiar slam of a block in your throat, and you swallowed heavily, squeezing Aemond's hand beside you. Grounding you. With a deep breath, you looked back up to your father. He would not interrupt you this time. He would not best you.

He could not have the last laugh this time.

"You…" the words came out forcefully, almost clumsy. But no block in sight, "…are no father…t-to me"

The room was deathly quiet and more than anything, everyone was just shocked. You watched your father's face carefully and saw the raw shock that was so clearly there and you hadn't realised just how tightly you had been holding onto Aemond's hand until he squeezed back, a very obvious proud look on his features.

You took a glance about the room once the silence had become uncomfortable, your siblings sharing their own form of shock in equal measure. A sudden feeling of self-consciousness overtook you and you looked over at Alicent and finally Aemond.

Alicent looked entirely neutral if not a little amused, but Aemond did not have to hide his amusement, his lips turned up into a very clear smirk as his eye looked down at you. You dared to send him a smile back, secretly proud of what you had done in the spur of the moment.

"I think it is time for you to leave, my Lord" Alicent said, cutting through the stony silence, "The King and I will send the terms for the marriage in the coming days"

The father looked wordlessly over at the Queen, now haggard and expressionless.

"I trust the matter is closed"

"Hm" was your father's only response. He gave you somewhat of a glare before turning his back, his own hand clamping around your sisters to drag her out of the room. Your brother's seemed to give Aemond a look before following also, the eldest dragging the middle by the cuff of his shirt.

You let out a breath and your shoulders dropped, now relieved of the pressure. Aemond squeezed your hand again,

"T-tolī o-o…olvie?" you ask. Too much?

He shakes his head with a chuckle, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, "Daor, īles vok"

No, it was perfect.

 The weight of the burden your family was apparently very hefty, for as they arranged their hasty departure the next day it did not seem to bother you to see them off.

You would happily spend the afternoon sat beneath the Weirwood Tree, book softly placed in your lap. Aemond leaned against the tree behind you, reading over your shoulder as your eyes darted across the words scribbled on the page, fingers at the corner ready to turn with excitement.

Aemond smirked knowingly as his eye caught your family passing the gardens, the servants carrying their luggage. Your father leered over, a gaze that could kill settling upon the Prince, but the only thing that could occupy the space between you both was the sound of you reciting the book before you. The one he had given you as a present.

He sat by, watching every now and then as the line formed between your eyebrows at a particularly difficult word, taking staggered breaths to get the long ones through in a single utterance. And for a moment, watching you reciting the text, Aemond swore he saw the passing of regret pass over your father's features.

Your words seemed to be suited to Valyrian, Aemond so often thought, and even now as he listened to your words from the history book, he took a lock of hair between his fingers to play with the strands. A chill ran up your spine at his hand on your neck, pushing the hair away, the smooth skin hiding beneath now exposed to the cold air.

His hand remained at your nape as you finished the sentence.

"Rȳ z-zȳha…sȳrje…sk-skorkydoso gaomas…b-bisa pikībagon?..." How does this read? you pause to ask, a finger pointed at the page at an unknown symbol. Aemond sat up and leered over your shoulder at the spot,

"Valyria"

"Oh" you answer, now feeling stupid, but chuckling in response. You carried on, Aemond's chin now resting softly atop your shoulder.

"Valyria iksin se….ro-rovaja oktion isse se vys. Iemny ziry..."

"Lemnȳ" Aemond corrected, smiling.

You sigh and push the book closed to place beside you, looking up at Aemond's smug face, he was so close now that you could see the stitching of his eye-patch and a shuddered breath came from you at the hand that was still placed on your skin. His eye was once against hooded to look down at you, perhaps you would never get used to the feeling that gave you.

"Ao pikībagon sȳrī" You read well.

"e-emi mērī..sssepār rhēdan" We have only just started. You shake your head at his words.

"Nyke hae aōha elēni…" I like the sound of your voice, he trailed off and you could feel your cheeks heat up at his compliments. Truthfully, you loved the sound of his more. Especially when he spoke Valyrian. It being your shared language, there was a certain intimacy to it. And you found yourself wondering if he would speak it during…

Your sinful thoughts were cut off by his hand on your jaw, turning your face towards him. If he was close before, now he was even closer, and you held your breath and searched his eye for his intent. He was smiling down at you, finger softly dragging across your skin and it seemed like there was nothing more romantic than saying nothing at all in this moment. Eyes zoned in on him, you opened your mouth to say something, his name.

"Aem-"

His lips interrupted you and you could feel how his softness pressed against you, body heated instantly just purely with his touch. All that fire that burned in his blood, pumped around his body, to be pressed against you now; it burned so nicely that you smiled in his kiss. Allowing him to slip into your mouth as you smiled, the warmth enveloped the two of you and you hand was softly pressed to his chest, grasping the collar of his coat, perhaps in an effort to pull him closer. Aemond groaned with need, sending a vibration of desire that descended through you.

You had never felt so wanted in your life. And Gods, it felt so nice to be wanted, to be needed.

Time seemed to pass so slowly when he had you like this and the desire deepened more so when his hand cupped the back of your head, pressing further into you. A ghost of a moan left you which only seemed to spur him on more so, running swiftly out of breath.

"Aōha udra…" he broke away to whisper, forehead resting on yours, "…nyke jorrāelagon tolī"

You smiled, eyes closed and enveloped in his scent, his love. It was other-wordly.

Your words. I need more.

 Taglist:  @candypurplebutterfly @vainillasmil157 @ysa-psa @angelaevangelion @bellaisasleep @random-human02 @guardian-of-the-imagination​

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #prince aemond #Aemond x Reader #aemond angst #aemond fluff #aemond stannies #Aemond the Kinslayer #hotd fanfic #hotd angst #hotd fluff #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fluff #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x y/n #Aemond x OC #aemond targaryen fluff

[justcallmesakira]

The reader looking so pretty at an event in the agency, co worker dazai can't help but stare at her :> make sum scenario :>

"I SEE YOUR PRETTY EYES AT MINE, MISTER~"

Sypnosis: Dazai just cant keep his eyes to himself when a colleuge of his is looking so darn pretty!

Dazai x fem! reader

Genre: suggestive, romance

Warnings: reader is sort of cheeky, suggestive as hell, implied alcoholism, author gave the reader on what attire shes wearing.

A/N FINALLY A REQUEST AFTER SO FUCKIN LONG

The agency had decided to hold another party in celebration of a huge deal which would help the agency .

And of course you were invited, almost everyone was. You decided to look extra pretty today because why not, not because of others but for yourself.

You had picked out a extravagant ebony coated frock which covered all the way up to your legs and ended with glistening white layers of laces.

The party was at 8 o clock, you had time plus what would you do getting there so early?

Gently tapping on the tubes of lipsticks you picked out a vermillion shade and smoothly applied the waxy substance on your lips. The colour suited the rose tied around your neck really well.

Finally adding some final touches you rushed out the door and walked along to the agency.

There were colourful lights and food everywhere, Atsushi teaching Kyouka how to make decorations, doctor Yosano taking a bit too much of wine, ranpo staring at powdered donuts... To think of it you remember him taking 5 of them sneakily one night and you wonder why hes so obsessed with them.

But one thing you could notice was a certain someones eyes on you... Dazai.

You walked up to atsushi and kyouka, talking to them and teaching them some tips and tricks to fit in with the agency.

You could feel at all times though, a certain pair of eyes glancing at you from time to time from the corner of the room.

"Excuse me, i will just fix my hair and come back" you politely end the conversation before walking towards the door and going outside.

Despite your heels clacking against the floor, you could feel another set of shoes following them.

"Dazai-san, may i know why i feel your eyes on my at all times?" you ask putting a perfect spot from the distance between your figure and the mans figure.

He chuckled.

"Bella, i must say your quite the smart one arent ya'?" osamu replies back with much cheekiness in his tone as yiu turned to him, he had a black tuxedo, a polished and refined one, it hugged his body quite tightly too.

You just sighed at his remark, he was a ladies man you knew but you have never seen the glint and love in his eyes on a girl ever before, it amde your stomach turn slightly in a good way, of course.

His teasing grin drops and turns into a more soothing smile as he walks over to you which makes you back towards the wall unsure whether to trsut him or not.

He lowers his head a bit to reach your face taking in all of it's features.

"Are you trying to woo me, dazai-san? It seems like it"

"Haaah, maybe. The thing is bella you just look so.." you expect him to give you some compliment like every boy does when they see a girl sitting pretty and all but instead he gently took a strand of your hair, took it to his lips and uttered every single quality and flaw about you, it was as if hes born to have a poets tongue with you being the muse.

"I just want to admire you all day, my darling. Its not lust nor a small crush, it isnt even close to love but something beyond the world and beyond the universe to attend to, i dont know i could drown in your eyes right now but i would prefer staring at them for an eternity as if its a gorgeous piece of art hung on a museum"

he said softly, oh god did this man made your heart drop down your stomach and melt into your intestines.

With each word he spoke through his charming voice, you could feel his breathe and hands going closer towards your sweating body and at last, he asked for your permission to which you only looked at him with a slight embroidery of embarrassment on your cheeks.

Dazai tenderly kissed your forehead but though it lasted short you wondered whether he tried to go for your lips instead because of the shift in his body.

"Oi, dazai and [Name] if your done with your cheesy af encounter than come back to the party! Presidents calling you two!"

Atlast after moments of intimate interaction which wasnt even intimate because of the silent yearn for something neither the two of you could preach. Both of you decided to go back to the party.

Later in the relationship you realised that your first kiss with this loverman was not the type of kiss those possessive men would do which would take your breathe away but more of a desperate one as if to reach out for something which one already got.

In the end nor dazai or you could just confess normally without making each other look like two pieces of magnificent artwork looking at each other.

A/N: i hate this more than dazai hates him self :(((((((( btw reader is wearing this dress

Divider crds! : @cafekitsune

Tags! : @inojuuy @silverbladexyz @atlasnessie @tsuunara @elizais @saelique @chuuyasboner @atzuhi @riiwrites @ruanais @biscuits-spooky-corner @rusmii

#sakira! #sakiras writing notebook!!! #bsd x reader #bungou gay dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #Bsd fanfic #Bsd drabble #Drabbles #dazai #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #Osamu dazai #Bsd dazai #Spicy

[smuttyaf]

The Ultimatum

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩.

wc; 14.2k | fifth part to the business

i can’t express how much i appreciate the love i’ve been getting from the series! so because of that, i decided to combine two parts together for this post (teehee) that means extra manipulative!h & extra smut. i hope you all enjoy!

tw: gaslighting, coercion, degradation, tad bit of edging, and bdsm. don’t read if it makes you uncomfy!!

Is it conceited for you to embrace the stares that wander over your appearance?

Men fit in muted suits and twinkling time pieces, letting their adventurous eyes drink in every stride of you entering the lively scenery. Cleavage bouncing with each step held by the floral stitched dress gracing your body in all the right places; slit down one side to reveal your smooth legs and expensive heels.

The warmth of Harry’s hand nestled along your waist has greedy eyes stab jealous daggers with each passing movement in the room. You can’t help the smirk that tugs along your lips. Even if all these men's eyes are set on you, Harry is the one who loves your look the most just as much as you love all his strategic ways.

The familiar scent of his cologne relaxes every nerve from being around his magnetic presence. He moves through the room with grace, head bowing every few moments acknowledging acquaintances and colleagues. Every stretch of skin over Harry drips class and elegance, from his styled curls to Saint Laurent suit, all you can do is admire him.

He clears his throat to draw your attention to him, peeling your chair open with eyes twinkling as you take your seat and let him position you better along the table.

Your gaze surveys the group of men before you, stern faces with loose smirks, it has knots tightening in your stomach. Harry's body rumbles next to you, turning your focus to him with a timid smile, your shy expression has his eye dropping into a wink, hands clasping together looking towards the men.

“Finally! He shows up!”

The circle breaks into laughter, you join in faintly at the sound. There’s a dealer set in the middle of the table continuing to shuffle the deck while distant chatter still fills your ears. Shoulders relax against the cushions of the stool, fingers curving over your pouch as your tongue runs along your bottom lip.

“C’mon, you know this city and it’s shit traffic,” Harry counters, fixing his cuff links while his feet rustle against the chair legs.

“If that’s what you want to call it.” Sneaky grin shining from the man parallel to you who stares at Harry.

The undertone of his comment sends blood to course furiously, cheeks beginning to warm as you sit up straighter in your chair, eyes trailing to the poker chips littering the table in different colours. It distracts the sound of Harry kissing his teeth with his hands drumming against the cushions of the decorative spread.

“Enough, are we playing or what?” He avoids, eyebrows peering up at the ginger employee shuffling the deck of cards.

“I’ll go for another round, how bout’ you Gio?” Bald man with tattoos all over his scalp looks towards the man at the end of the table.

He shrugs in return, his hand raising up for a waitress to trail towards the group. A bouncy brunette appears as Gio looks around the table.

“Marcallan for the men… and you darling, what would you like?” Nervous smile spreads on your lips from being addressed. Finger reaching behind your ear to tuck hair away, sight flicking between Harry and his friend.

“Anything from the Château line, please.” Smiling at him and the waitress, Gio runs his tongue over his teeth as he nods his head.

“And that wine for the lady, thank you dear.” Hand going into his breast pocket, pulling bills out and gracing it to her.

Your eyes turn back towards Harry, he nods his head towards Gio, appreciation caught in their gaze before they’re looking towards cards flying across the table for their own deck.

“I’m feeling lucky tonight,” Harry cracks, arms slinging along the spread with a charming smile looking over his group of friends.

“I wouldn’t speak so soon,” Slim man with long nose twirls his empty glass of ice cubes, cheery grin spread along his features.

“Yeah, so far Johnny is leading this,” Deep voice of the pudgy man next to Harry laughs. It barks in grunting breaths with his face going red. Your view on your boyfriend whose expression reads disdain.

The snicker next to you breaks your attention. Short black hair gelled with hazel eyes dancing in the light, his smirk is sinister being satisfied with his winning streak. Gaze catches with yours, looking over your features with his tongue peeking out and running across his lip. The exchange stirs your sight to Harry, nails curling into the leather of your bag swallowing heavily.

You didn’t know what to expect when Harry invited you to this fundraiser for the evening, but this definitely wasn’t it.

Italian accents and expensive apparel hold your vision when you look around the table. Whether silver and gold shine off their bodies, every peek of their appearance radiates money. All men are groomed and styled with sophistication that adds to the ambiance of the room.

Voluminous jewels hang off the chandelier, waiters walk around holding trays of food or flutes of champagne, guests roaming amongst the floor carrying the flow of the party. The scene is one of glitz and glamor; sparkling liquor, upbeat band, and everyone dressed to the nines.

It’s a beautiful sight of the finer things in life, women flashing their magnificent accessories while men flaunt their luxurious suits and polished dress shoes. A breathless sigh slips past your lips with spine flexing recognizing people from local television.

Despite working at Jasper’s and always encountering famous men, you never got used to them being in your presence. Even if it was dancing for them, the fact you either grew up watching them on the big screen or just reading about them in the weekly news, it still surprises you how you’re able to surround yourself with popular figures.

“Gonna introduce us to your friend here?” Voice beside yourself questions. It rings your ears as your focus remains on the green table.

“Right? Styles, where are your manners?” Teasing tone adding into the space. The attention being on you stirs your heart to pick up in pace, shaky fingers and fluttering lashes look back up at the group.

“This is Y/N, my girlfriend,” Harry's hand finds itself on your naked thigh, sight looking over your timid frame as he smoothes it down the expanse while all the men study your appearance. “So don’t stare too long.”

The night unfolds with drinks flowing and locker room chatter, nasty jokes with suggestive winks leave the poker table a roaring mess. Amused hands clapping at men winning more money or spilling humor. Your once darting eyes and racing heart calms down, acknowledging every word spoken and laughing at every dirty pun. It’s relieving how funny and easy-going the group of his friends are, they carry you into conversations and even get you to join the game.

With the alcohol running through your system it has the hours spent at the party go by in a breeze. Harry’s touch nestles itself by your side, view checking on you enjoying yourself. His reassuring touch and attentive demeanor increases the affection between you, it has you smiling at him genuinely throughout the party appreciating him.

But beside those nurturing moments, you learn in the hours spent over colourful chips and liquor more about the men Harry involves himself with. What you grasp from their innuendos are gruesome jokes about beating someone to the bone or how pleasing it is to see their oppositions dead. Your heart swells with sadness, not only that they find it funny but that Harry was laughing along. It wasn’t amusing to you as it was to him.

That would be the moment you drown out the truth and toss back the rest of your wine, and by the time the glass touches the coaster Harry orders another, pleased you’re compliant with the conversation. Deflecting gaze and clenching heart wanders amongst the mingling people and jazz band. It’s in your tispy state you notice luring eyes of women set on Harry, drinking him in with all his glory that it sends a surge of jealousy through you. Fingers tighten around his as your sight focuses back on him, glossy eyes and straight teeth shine with ignorance about the brutal truth of the relationship.

By the time you’re on your fourth glass, the group settles into calm crackles of past memories; whether it’s about stumbling upon a glory hole or reminiscing about life back in Italy, it subsides your slow pacing heart from the previous conversation.

“So I’m tired right, I got blood gushing from my head and I just busted my ass four blocks to get to Harry’s. I barge into his place, he’s there with Kenzo and Charlie watching sports, you know how this man is always watching sports right!” You giggle in amusement invested with the story.

“And I tell him; I need your help, I can’t tell you what it is, you can never ask me about it later, and we’re gonna hurt some people, and Harry, completely unfazed as ever goes, whose car are we taking?” The group erupts in laughter, as the man you learn to be Mateo, recounts his story.

Harry laughs with nails scratching against your skin, the view of him soothes yourself with warmth adoring him. Curls in waves combine with his amused laughter, skin folding by his eyes completely entertained with the story. The rowdy laughter carries on until there’s someone patting on his shoulder, salt and pepper roots with thick beard catching your sight.

“Styles! Nice to see you!”

Your jaw immediately tenses, nose wrinkles and cheeks blossom under the lights. Teeth clench down on each other as your heart begins to burn, this certainly wasn’t someone you expected to see tonight. Christian Bale in front of you and shaking Harry’s hand as if…

“Christian!” Harry cheers, going to greet him. At the same time his grip tightens around your knee your fingers trail towards your mouth, teeth nibbling on your nail with nerves raking through.

It’s in your movement that your familiar client catches your eyes, flash of surprise crossing his features before a pleased smile spreads.

“Where are you going? Stay for a game,” Harry chimes, hand gesturing to the poker table. The fact he’s even proposing that causes your fingers to curl into his anxiously.

The gesture is noticeable to him with gaze surveying your nervous appearance, before looking back to Christian who shakes his head.

“No, no, I was just on my way out.” Nodding towards the exit doors. Decline of the offer has Harry bow his head in acknowledgment, straightening up in his chair. “It was nice to see you before our meeting.”

“Likewise, get home safe.” Harry concludes the conversation with a genuine smile.

You’re extremely grateful that he passes up on the offer as he leaves towards the exit. Shallow breaths course through, searching eyes watch with teeth tearing away from acrylic, you draw your hand down and share a passive smile.

If you could wipe the sweat that trickles down your temple as if an sitcom, you would. Your heart never stops its thundering beats, discovering your boyfriend and regular client being friends? Colleagues? Whatever it is, it doesn’t sever the ache that grows in your chest.

“I think we should call it a night too,” Harry wonders, head twisting to look at you with a charming smile. “How does that sound?”

With the amount of liquor in your system and having witness that scene before you, the need to feel your blankets and its comforting material is one you pleasantly desire. The ends of your lips twist upwards as you nod.

So, a few minutes after Harry orders the valet  for his Porsche you both bid the group farewells. Each man stands shaking Harry’s hand while they bring you in for a hug, respectable actions that leave you fond of the gesture.

The drive back to his penthouse is small talk about how the night went and if you enjoyed yourself. In the quiet space, your sight is caught on the moving buildings passing by in blurs, mind stuck on Mr. Bale while your voice conceals the uneasiness coursing through.

Christian has been your client for two years now, you see him every other week if he’s not on vacation or filming. Despite him being your regular, there is a cordial connection between you both; times he will confess to you problems in his life after too many drinks, or respecting your decision to not push the boundaries of your work position. Even though there’s a non-disclosure agreement binding the both of you, should you tell Harry your relationship with him?

The thoughts brewing are ones that have your back ruffling against the leather seats. How many of your other clients are connected to Harry? You’re so dizzy from the alcohol in your system, you can’t recall if you glazed over any at the party. But it doesn’t even matter in the end, you’re in distress regardless, the possibility of your clients having connections with him but don’t know who you belong to as they watch you dance. A shiver of guilt courses through.

By the time you get home, Harry and you undress and slip between the arms of each other, and by the time he’s completely wrapped up in you, you forget the man that races your mind. In the morning, Harry is already out the door leaving you to wander around his penthouse all afternoon before heading to your own home, caring for Cleo until it’s time to get ready for work.

Your week goes back to what it regularly is; upkeep of your appearance, different decorative robe, and withering under Harry’s touch. It completely slips your mind about your encounter with Christian, going about your life smiling at the postman from another bouquet or spending your time lodging around Harry’s living room until he gets home.

It’s another one of those days, legs crossed over each other with a magazine in your lap. Eyes drifting over the newest pieces in the Fendi collection while The Real Housewives drags along in the background. The chime of the elevator rings in the space notifying you of Harry’s arrival.

His dress shoes echo heavily amongst the polish floor as they cross the room, the severe sound of his paste has your head trialing up from the glossy booklet.

“Hi baby,” Cheerful voice greeting him, your eyes watch him make his way towards the bar.

Harry decides to ignore you with lips flat and jaw tensing. It’s when seeing the sight of him that you swallow heavily, and when glasses smash against the counter top it makes sweat begin to crease in your palms.

“Is everything okay?” Are your next words, nails curling into the shiny paper as you continue to watch him. He walks across the room, same hash footsteps that halt with his body sitting next to you.

Teeth bite down into your bottom lip as you continue to roam over Harry’s features, it reeks pure anger. Your heart pounding in your chest with toes curling in on themselves trying to control the stress overtaking you.

Maybe it’s another bad day at work? Maybe Johnny pissed him off like he always does? Maybe his anger isn’t directed towards you? So, with that glimmer of thought, your hand stretches out to place the magazine on his lap. Nervous smile peeking through as you look towards him.

“Isn’t this coat beautiful, I wonder if they have it in store?” You suggest, gaze catching between his forest eyes and the brown fur coat embroidered with the Fendi logo.

Harry looks towards the magazine, sight roaming over the image before his hand is closing the book and slapping it onto the center table. The ringing of the glass rattles every vein pulsing through. His actions focus your attention with tears beginning to swell.

He stares at the flowers adorning the surface, hand raising the glass to his lips as he swallows back whisky. The tension in the room is thick and uncomfortable, the expression written over his face is one you’ve never witnessed before. It’s why your nails curl into your pantyhose already leaving faint tears.

Harry clears his throat when pulling the drink away from his lips, tongue peeking out to wet flesh just as his eyes lock with you. Connection holding an eerie exchange that has your mouth run dry.

“You know when you joined me for the party Sunday night, I wondered what made you so flustered when Christrian introduced himself.” The mention of your client has your throat squeeze, tears now stinging your vision.

“Still, I thought nothing of it. He has his fame with his movies, his starlight, whatever… you see I thought that was the reason but no, no, no, that wasn’t why you got flustered, now is it?” Your chest now rises quickly with each breath.

Harry’s mad, screw that, mad is not even the word; he’s vexed, furious, absolutely outraged with eyes wide and each word coming out in an angry spew. The sight is haunting compared to the one you’re so use to.

“Since you don’t know, Christian and I are invested in the same stock, sometimes we have meetings going over bullshit graphs and other stupidness to fund. And when I thought that our usual meetings would go how they normally do, I was surprised when he brought you up.” Your skin is practically radiating more heat than the sun at the moment, you’re caught and sit in front of him in complete shock. “Asking me how I could’ve possibly been able to spend a night with you, how he’s been trying to… well, I don’t even want to say.”

“Harry I’m so sorry—”

“—Oh! So now you’re sorry, not when he smiled in my face and shook my hand?”

You’re the reason why he’s enraged and looking at you with such shame. A storm of tears pounds behind your eyes with nails now ruining your stockings, it was taking everything in you not to cry in front of him.

“Harry, I can’t say anything, I’m under contract.”

Those words have a bitter laugh floating in the air, condescending and threatening that your gaze falls towards the leather cushions. The ice cubes in his glass rattle against each other straining the atmosphere.

“Choose right now, your job or me.” Eyes go wide as they look back up at him. Your mouth wobbles as you swallow nervously.

“What?” Brows push together as your fingers unclench themselves around your knees.

“Right now, choose.” Heart pounds against your chest with thunder, tears begging to fall over your waterline as you look at him in surprise at the ultimatum.

All Harry does is stare back with his intense gaze and clenching hand. The emotions coursing through nearly make you faint, this was all too much, especially right now.

“B —Baby, Harry, I think we should just talk about this,”

“—That’s your answer.” Cutting you off with eyebrows high in question. Once again, your expression wavers with confusion and sadness. Mind still trying to process the events happening.

Your stuttering face has Harry pulling away from your presence with another amused laugh, hand slamming his glass down on the table before he’s leaning forward. The clattering objects make your body shake and tears begin to trickle from your eyes, fingers leave your legs to wipe away the sadness roaming down your cheeks.

You watch Harry begin to loosen his tie, knees raising him off the couch as he moves across the room again. His motions have you immediately following after, heels clicking behind his rushed steps trying to catch up to him.

“Get all your shit and get out!” Harry sneers, stomping up the stairs with yourself following behind in anxious beats.

His words have your heart tearing in half, cry leaving your lips as you try to ignore the water blurring your version and trailing down your skin.

“What? No!” Grabbing at Harry’s hand once reaching the landing, the gesture has his fingers jerk away from yours and continue his venture towards the bedroom.

Marching down the hall until swinging the door open, immediately going to your side of the dresser and beginning to toss your shirts and blouses across the floor, some trailing onto the bed as he empties your things.

“Stop! What are you doing!” You sob, bending to pick up the clothing and trying to shove them back in its place.

“You want to stay at Jasper’s! Fine, go ahead! But I won’t be with you anymore!” His voice booms over you, stinging words cutting deep that has another wave of tears shredding.

“I never said that!” You weep, hands trying to collect his who continues to throw your things. Actions so rushed and furious that he’s not even paying attention to your crying frame.

“It’s clear!” Harry tugs another drawer open tossing all your garments across the room.

“Well I’m not going!” Fingers catching onto the fabric in his hands that leave you both fighting over the piece.

“I don’t want you here! Get out!” Harry's voice roars over the sob that leaves your distraught frame.

You never heard Harry this way, and you’ve never seen him this angry either, and the fact he’s throwing you away as if nothing is leaving you completely broken. Every moment with him has been special since you met, and now the fucked up reveal of your secrets is shattering all that you once were. It’s stomping on your heart and playing in the smashed pieces.

You’re sure the eyeliner and mascara you put on this morning is running all over your cheeks, still your chest heaves heavy breaths as your hands trail up his arms to try and halt his movements. This is not what you want, this is the last thing you expected to happen, and it’s more devastating that it’s unfolding like this.

“H —Harry, please, just stop, you can’t mean this.” Soft voice wavering as you tug on his blazer, nails digging into his skin roughly to get attention.

And it does, his sight cold and jaw clenching from the view of your appearance. The draw down your frame looks as if he’s ashamed, like he doesn’t even want to look at you right now. It’s the sight that makes you want to apologize over and over again.

“How is she in bed? Is she as sweet as I imagine?”

Crack lips part, lashes fluttering with brows drawing together; all your features resemble pure shock at the reiteration of Christian’s words. Now you stand in this room that once held such love and affection be swallowed by heartbreak. Chanel, Prada, Armani, gifts that Harry presented for your own space in his life; they now grace the floor as if a memory long forgotten.

“She always told me she never does those things, kinda’ offended she didn’t reveal to me her added profession.”

Olive eyes shine with distaste looking at your withering appearance. Jaw tensing and fingers still clenching around your shirt. Another shaky breath courses through, examining eyes and twitching mouth not knowing what to say.

“You don’t know how badly I wanted to beat the livin’ shit out of him. The way he describes you, talks about you. I had to bite my tongue hearing everything.” Nails relax against his arms with your lips pressing tightly together. “I’m disgusted.”

His words aim to bruise, leaving sadness to blossom in the hollows of your heart. Everything is falling apart right in front of your eyes and all you can do is let tears continue to run. Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you say something?

“So choose, Jasper’s or me.”

“You.”

Nodding up at him, the ends of your mouth tug into a timid smile with your hands drawing down to cradle his fingers. His nostrils flare still angry, still completely furious.

The answer doesn’t ease the tension in the room, instead it heightens your decision, the one you should’ve said before fumbling over your words. Shining rays of light pass through the window, brightness gracing over the clothes flung across the space amidst the battlefield of sadness and rage.

“I —I choose you, I’ll leave Jasper’s, I —I’m sorry.” Fingers encasing around his as you step deeper into his presence. Harry retreats into the dresser, chest flexing with grip contracting around the shirt in hand.

Cold eyes don’t break sight over your sniffling appearance. Intimidation radiates from his towering posture that cradles your worried frame. Even fully clothed, Harry eyes undress every vulnerable twitch that courses through, lashes batting up at him heartbroken and needy, always so needy.

“You quit tomorrow.” He demands, hands dropping the garment and gripping the underside of your arm. “You’ll move out of your apartment, stay with me and be my good little doll. Is that clear?” Now it’s your turn for your body to tense. Tear stained cheeks and paint smeared eyes bow under Harry’s gaze.

“Now I don’t want this happening again. I shouldn’t have to do this to show you what you really want.”

His grip over your arm has you stumbling backwards towards the bed, knees cushioning your seated position as Harry’s other hand goes towards your neck, holding your gaze as he looks over you.

The room captures two lovers; one manipulative with his calculating actions, while the other is victim to the love prayed over with affection and money. His behavior is overseen by your emotions so easily embraced by him. It’s why you stare at him in virtue despite everything that has transpired in your life already, the one that’s now completely devoted to Harry.

“I hate to make you cry… but you look so pretty.”

Thumb spreads over your skin as his head cranes down, lips gazing over each other as his eyes continue to examine your hesitant frame. He loves the way your breath quivers as he moves closer, body shifting against his grip as he looms over your frame in complete awe of you.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. You know I’ll take care of you, I always do… and with Jasper’s, that place holds you back, you know that, don’t you?” Fingers shaking your head playfully with his sight still never trailing off your bitten lip and doe eyes. “You’ll love it here, keep my bed nice and warm. Won’t you, darling?”

“Yes.”

Though agreeing with everything Harry says, the feeling of your heart trying to repair itself cracks even more at the obligations being set in place. Restrictions now apply over your life to be with him. It’s scary, and alarming, and you should really catch your breath and think over everything he’s saying but you don’t, not with his hand cradling your skin and eyes drawing you in.

“No more dancing, no more clients, just me.”

Nodding your head again with deep breath releasing, your fingers curl around the material of your velvet dress. Heart paces with sorrow realizing you won’t be wrapped up in your long tulle robe, receive generous tips, or have your girl talk surrounded by vanity lights.

“If I find out about another one I’ll kill them. Swear to god I will.” Chest quivers as his words float along your face. Intense stare watching the way you swallow heavily and bow your head at him.

“I’m sorry.” Soft voice slipping past your lips as the storm behind your eyes calms down. Fingers that once ruffled against your dress rise up and close around his wrist, lashes batting up at him with a shaky smile.

“Only you, it’s only ever been you.”

Harry tightens his grip around your jaw. Sight still surveying your anxious frame, his other hand runs down your face before tucking hair away. The ends of his lips tug up at the same time he’s shaking your head playfully, again.

Just like always, his demeanor radiates satisfaction at your attention. Heart growing fond of you surrendering yourself, complying to every requirement. Harry falls more in love with the way he can control you, how you’re now his entirely. He’s happy knowing that he’ll come home to your pretty self waiting for him and ready for anything he proposes, all because you’re just that dedicated to please him.

It’s why his head lowers, lips connecting against your bitten ones. The grip over your jaw sliding down your neck, rubbing the skin roughly as tongues link together to dance. Ignorance of the heated scene passing over both of your minds while his hand tightens.

The bourbon on his tongue adds to the intoxicating sensation that runs through you whenever you taste him. It’s the type that you want passing through your own veins just loving it that much, loving him that much. Harry cares about you, isn’t it obvious? He wants what’s best for you, that’s why he’s making you leave Jasper’s and have you live with him to spend the rest of your days.

His hand curls around your neck, mouths parting as his sight goes back to examining your face. There’s still pink roaming across the hollows of your eyes, cheeks a mess of black liner, and daze still twinkling up at him.

“Show me how sorry you are.”

Darting sight looks between his smirk and preying self, knees pushing off the bed to fall to the floor with connection never breaking. His hands follow every motion of your head as it nods at him, your fingers going to his belt and immediately beginning to undo it.

Thick bulge pressed tightly against his zipper revealing how turned on he got at the heated exchange. Your hand releases him from his boxers while your other tugs the rest of his slacks down, mouth not waiting to accept him graciously. Shallow taste of salt on your tongue as it twirls around his head, eyes blinking up as you apologize in his favorite way.

Lips bubble with spit as you roam down his length, clear fluid coating him in the rush of your descent, the urgent need to display how sorry you are shows.

Your mouth parts lowering yourself around him, tongue laying flat along the underside craving out every pulsing vein beneath erect skin. The warmth of you wrapping around his cock has a relieving sigh pass through him.

“Be my perfect girl.” Fingers massaging your scalp as you continue to swallow him down. “Show me how sorry you are.”

Harry watches every bob of your head, plump lips sucking him and feeling your throat relax and accept him effortlessly. Connection shimmers with obedience as you prove to him how guilty you feel for thinking you wouldn’t choose him over anything.

Acknowledging his comments your mouth descends down his cock even further, neck contracting around his length as your nose tickles his pelvis, moan stifles against him at the way he stretches your throat. The effect of him between your lips already has your pussy throbbing, wetness beginning to coat your folds falling into his every tactic.

The hand placed on his thigh moves towards his dick, enclosing around it and gliding with every bob of your head, added pleasure being received happily as his fingers curl into your locks.

“Just like that,” Harry coos, hips thrusting into your motions as you continue swallowing him down.

Shivers of delight course through happy you’re pleasing him. It’s reassuring hearing his groan over your movements. Knees shuffling across the floor, strands of hair shifting with every dip and saliva causing his cock to glisten in the light.

It’s beautiful how it shines, mini air bubbles roaming along the nerves pulsating along your tongue. It was a sight to see, a sight you adore. It’s why your body tries to contain yourself from the sparks igniting. You’re happy to apologize to him, happy to show him that he’s the only one for you.

The expressions of pleasure slipping from Harry uplifts your spirit, you’re back on his good side, and you want to remain there. The look of disgust that once crossed his face is one you never want to see again, especially his words. You’re supposed to be his good doll, not one to lie or deceive him. That’s why you’re on your best behavior, doing anything to prove yourself.

“I’ll do anything to show you that you’re the only one I want.” Fingers tightening around his length that has him groaning from the look over your face, eyes caught on your forgiving frame that he can’t help but smirk. Palms now hold your face up in his favorite place. “You always treat me so good, I’m sorry baby.”

Hand continues to roam down his cock in twists, easily sliding with spit as your gaze doesn’t break. Needy eyes and pouty lips, it’s Harry's favorite image of you; and with your makeup all streaked down your cheeks, he wants this moment to be photographed so he can save it in his wallet to show how devoted you are to pleasing him.

His grip over you halts your movements, fingers roughly carrying your face towards him as your knees flex with gasp falling from your lips, his actions have your hands contract and draw away.

“Show me.”

The words guide your movements to reach behind your back. Nails catching on your zipper to draw it down your frame. Fitted dress falling down your body as your heels are next, toes slipping out of your pumps and touching the heated wood, and with each movement of you shredding off your panties and stockings, Harry is there watching your every move while he strokes himself.

The soft skin of your curves sit on display for him to admire. Swelling breasts so perfect and round, thighs so deliciously smooth and begging to be in his hold. God, Harry is in love with you. Every vulnerable inch of yourself is exposed for his greedy eyes. It’s why he begins undressing himself; dress shoes kicking off, slacks joining the mess on the floor, and every button of his dress shirt revealing inked skin under your gaze.

“Turn around.”

Following his command, you do. Eyes staring at all your clothes thrown over the space, nails drawing down your thighs eagerly as you hear ruffling behind you.

“Get on the bed, face down.”

Legs bend, knees ruffling against the sheets while your spine curves in. The side of your face is comforted by your slick blouse as your hands reach out in front of you, fingers curling around loose garments with your pussy set on display.

Harry’s steps shift amongst the floor, palm sliding to your lower back shoving you deeper into the bed as the head of his cock drags down your creamy folds.

“Look so pretty like this baby.” Dick pushing past your lips and spreading you wide. Your mouth hangs open, a satisfied moan trailing into the air of Harry stretching you out with all his length. “I love when you tell me you’re sorry.”

Whimpers spill, head rotating in pleasure as your hips jerk with each pound of his. Harry draws out slowly before thrusting back in roughly, each strike filling your pussy just the way you like. It never mattered what position you found yourselves in, he was always reaching parts of you that had your toes curling, and the fact that he’s pounding away not even allowing you to adjust sends a greedy sensation through you.

Harry is using your pussy just the way you like; fucking you however he pleases like the doll you are to him. It’s exhilarating, it’s mind numbing, leaving you light headed and addicted to every strike opening you wide.

“That’s right… take my dick.” Deafening slap roaming against your ass. It has your teeth biting into the silk and push against his thrusts with adrenaline coursing through.

“Baby,” Nails curling tightly into your shirts, while his grip over your hips controls you to accept every hungry pound.

Harry surveys your jolting frame, flexing back and shoulders craning as your arms roam higher up the sheets. Fingers drag and curl around the piles of mess lying across the sheets, plump lips hanging open in adoration at his urgent thrusts.

You look so beautiful like this, are his immediate thoughts floating in his mind; the way you grant him pleasure within the depths of your body that he loves to sink into, so beautiful.

Every delicious sound of your voice crying out in a whimper or moan just drives his hips even more, hands slipping up your neck and shoving your head into the blouse, hungry growl leaving him as your eyes squeeze shut with your pussy quivering around him. God does he love you so much, don’t you see that? Don’t you feel it? With every rock of his hips don’t you feel the electric pulse of him, how he’s so hungry craving more of your sweetness.

It’s the smirk that carries across his lips with knowledge that you know, you have to. Because with every coat of your nectar sliding down and accepting his cock he can feel your walls tighten and release; skin folding between your brows, knuckles going white from your grip over the sheets, pussy accepting every assault that you admire so much. Yes, he’s sure you know.

“Tell me you’re sorry.” He demands, chest parallel to your shoulders as he mounts you into the bed.

Harry’s hips have your body bouncing into the springs, face squishing and wheezing sighs of air passing through the thin material of your top. He’s so intoxicating the way he fucks you into the bed and shows you were you belong.

“I’m sorry!” Moaning while your fingers drag down the bed in agony at the ticks of your climax crawling through your foot.

“I’m so, so, sorry,” Voice going hoarse as your thighs quiver, eyes fluttering open to see lace and silk engulf your vision.

“Mhm, don’t you want to be my good girl?” Thrusts never halting as he continues to pound away at your cervix.

“Yes, god, yes!” Head straining against his hold as your stomach clenches with nerves.

Harry continues going, erratic thrusts of his cock in your drenched pussy, the sound of his hips plummeting your backside meets with every groan and whimper trailing in the air. The sounds drawing from the room float all the way into the hallway, each other's appetite being fulfilled in the messy foundation of your relationship.

“That’s my perfect girl,” Harry hums, lips pressing into your bobbing head as you completely unravel around him.

Hypnotic pulses sting down your spine as your head twists in his hold, teeth bite into the sheets as your pussy quivers all around him. Chest heaves as your mind goes completely blank, every thought and emotion is wrapped in him, loving everything he does.

“Oh my god, Harry,” Whining while you go sore around him as he continues his torment.

“That’s it baby… I feel you.” He breathes into your ear, hand releasing around your neck, the hold of you around his cock adds to him moaning into your sweating skin. “So good for me, just the way I like.”

Hips slowly dive back in, motions changing from their rough propelling paste to affectionate loving strokes. So exhilarating and passionate as he feels your body go limp around him.

It’s in the way your mouth parts, salvia stringing between your plump lips that Harry groans heavily against you. The mess of your hair mattes against his, the smell of your shampoo filling his nose as your back ruffles against his chest. Ticking sensations coursing through still leaving you feeling drowsy with your climax consuming you.

The dazed expression crossing your face is a captivating site, one that has Harry spilling into you, long moan brushing over your face as he relaxes into your body. Two hearts in the same room trying to regulate their breathing as they come down from the adrenaline that once pierced you into the sheets.

You feel Harry go slack, cock slipping out as he rolls off your body. You still breathe in shaky breaths, waist falling into the mattress as your thighs ruffle against the garments with limbs twitching from the waves of your release still coursing through.

As your mind continues to wander itself through fog you don't realize Harry sitting up in bed and putting himself back together, feet shuffling across the floor as he walks around the bed frame.

The noise catches your attention first before the sight of him entering the bathroom, and even despite him just fucking you brutally into the sheets he still looks upset.

“Clean up this mess and get ready for dinner, reservation is for seven.” Is all he says, the bathroom door slamming shut ending further conversation, only meaning that your apology isn’t accepted.

For thirty minutes you sit across from each other and let silence eat you up. Nails picking the skin around your cuticles, teeth biting into flesh while Harry on the other hand is extremely relaxed. Poised, professional, and avoiding your presence as if you’re not even there.

It’s over dinner that you realize, no matter how many times you try to shine your pearly white teeth or strike up a conversation, if Harry is in a bad mood that means you suffer in the projection of his feelings.

You can’t even be surprised by his anger, it’s really what you expect. You lied for days just for him to find out from Christian himself, and to make it even worse, he talked about you in a way that even made your skin crawl.

Harry avoided you for the rest of the night; no eye contact, no kisses, and no cuddling once in bed. It sinks your soul knowing you’re the reason behind the way he’s treating you at the moment, but it’s only right you endure this. It’s your fault.

That’s why you aren’t surprised when you wake up to the text from him reminding you of what’s needed today. The one thing you never thought would happen so soon. No more decorative feathers, no more giggling and suggestive talks, no more tips and dancing, no more Jasper. Three years gone, the memories you have are ones you hold dear; it’s why it pains you right now.

Looking at yourself in the goblet mirror adoring the dresser, that was previously pulled apart in a furious rage, tears prick your eyes recalling all the fond moments. Girls helping out with makeup, advice on which robe to wear, gossiping about clients, god, you’ll miss it all. But, it’s better this way. It’s better to have Harry take care of you, it’s nice really. You don’t have to worry about other men touching you, or whispering what they would like to do if given the chance. Sure, the money was nice and all but, Harry gives you anything you ask for, so maybe it isn’t that bad. Maybe, it’ll be okay.

“Miss, the car is ready for you.” Knock at the door awakening you from your thoughts. You inhale sharply, fingers running through your hair nervously as you nod at yourself.

“Okay, I’ll be right down!” You call, back turning and grabbing your coat.

The drive to Jasper’s is quiet, the streets outside the truck don’t puncture the memories that you reminisce about. Working your ass off at such a young age from waitressing to odd jobs, Jasper’s was a breath of fresh air despite the downside of dancing and late nights, you began to live a life of luxury, the life you always dreamed about. You did it by yourself, on your own and you’re proud about that. You could’ve given up at any moment but instead you pulled through, and now look, you found someone who’s going to take care of you.

Despite the tension between you and Harry at the moment, it’s obvious he wants to keep you by his side, should you really object to that? You spend the majority of your time with him, he always takes you out to dinner, buys whatever you want, and shows you love whenever needed (disregarding the current circumstance) so it really isn’t like his suggestions aren’t true. You’ll be better off with Harry, you know deep down this slippery slope that it will get better, and once you move in it’ll be easier just to please him. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.

Once Harry's team helps you out of the truck and to your familiar destination the surge of anxiety scorches through. Heart beating erratically, fingers fidgeting in your coat, eyes move in every direction as you tug your way to his office. It pains you to be in this situation, and you would do everything to not stand here right now facing the same door that welcomed you with open arms but now it’s too late.

Your palm curls around the golden knob and an uneasy smile tugs at your lips, seeing Jasper’s low eyes and ruffled hair. It only brings back so many memories, ones that you’ll remember forever.

“Y/N! My sweetheart!” Jasper stands, walking around the desk and opening up his arms.

You immediately go towards him. Hands wrapping around his back and ingesting the smell of coffee and cigarettes. Weirdly it calmed you down, settling the uneasiness through you as you lay against his chest.

The first time you ever met Jasper there was always a loving connection between you both, as if father and daughter. Southern accent and tired look never giving off irritation or displeasure whenever around. Always treating everyone with such kindness and respect, he never changed since you first met him, and that’s what you like most about him. Jasper is Jasper.

“My dear girl, it feels like forever since I last saw you,” Pulling away he smiles, crooked teeth and chapped lips shining as you bow your head in acknowledgment.

“I know, I know, I’ve been really busy lately.” You confide, eyes darting between him and the birds that roam outside the window.

Jasper sighs looking over your frame before stepping back. His hand gestures to the chairs seated in front of the desk. You immediately oblige, legs crossing over each other with hands curling together in your lap. Now you wish you could nestle in his chest just like a few seconds ago, burrow yourself into the coffee smell and forget the reason why you’re in this office.

“Yes, I see, you've been taking your vacation days quite often.” The words only elect an anxious draw of breath. Now your palms begin to grow with sweat, and you swear your ears start to ring from your mind racing.

“Yes, sir. I just thought… I —I… um,” Stuttering not knowing what to say or where to direct your attention. Your heart is going crazy in your chest, pounding so hard against its cage that you might pass out. “I found someone.”

You basically whisper those words but Jasper, he hears and he smiles. It’s one that knows the secret without having to hear the reveal. You’re sure it is written all over your face, and with the grin that tugs across his lips, you calm down just a bit.

“Is it Styles?” You blink with mouth parted and pain quaking throughout your bones.

“Y/N…” He sighs, hand brushing through his messy hair as he leans back in his chair. “I looked through your client log, I’ve seen Styles was your regular for about two months or so until he stopped returning; in that same time you begin using your vacation days. It quirked my interest so I decided to go through the security cameras during that time frame and…”

Your whole entire body goes hot, ears burning, and stomach turning, quite frankly you want to throw up. You’re stupid to forget about the hidden cameras in the room. God, of course this happens to you. Of course your boss saw you in every imaginable way within the two months Harry spent still coming here. You want to curl into a ball and forget this even happened.

“Dear…” Jasper breathes again, concerned look written all over his face despite your raging appearance. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Those are in there to protect everyone, and we’re humans, it’s natural, so don’t think too much about it, alright?”

You nod your head timidly as your leg begins to bob, you drop your head and try your best to not let tears run down your cheeks. You already went through a crying fit yesterday and you’re not going through another one again.

“You already know my thoughts on you Y/N. You’ve been my star since you walked into this place. I just want you to be safe.” Chin tilting your version to look back up at the concerned boss who was like a father to you. This couldn’t get any worse. Having to leave everything you know behind, this absolutely sucks.

“I know Styles… I know the life he lives isn’t the best and it’s definitely not the happiest. I just want you to fully understand what you’re getting yourself into.” Jasper leans forward, hand reaching out for yours which you don’t hesitate to give. You don’t hold back anymore, letting the tears trickle down slowly as you breathe in, throat straining from this moment, the one you still can’t believe is happening.

“I’ll be fine, Jasper. I know I will.” You nod with reassurance, free hand swiping away the tears that still spill. His fingers curl around yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles trying to sooth you but, when that isn’t enough he steps around the desk, body engulfing your shaking frame as you try to regain some composure.

“Grace and I are always here, you know that darling. You don’t gotta worry.” Hand patting your hair as you nod into his stomach, nose sniffing through the space.

“I know…” You sigh. Peeling away from his presence, a small smile on your lips as you look up at him. “This isn’t a goodbye, I promise.”

Jasper nods his head softly, tired expression still lingering as he looks over your frame while he continues to run his hands over your locks. The action soothes you. The storm brewing inside calms itself, the current subsiding and the tears that once roam down your cheeks halt. Your heart quiets down, chest relaxing with head drawing away from him as you wipe away any streaks.

You stand to wrap around him once again, breathing in his usual scent just hoping the clock can turn back time and things can go back to how they once were. Jasper rocks you, letting all the pulsing veins in your body rest and ease your shaking body to a halt.

“I’ll miss you.” You breathe into his chest before looking up at him. The smile you adore shines brightly as he pats your lower back.

“This is home darling, you’ll always know where to find me if needed, alright?” Jasper reassures. Nodding up at him once more, you pull away and offer a genuine grin.

Departing from his touch there’s a sense of loneliness spreading through. Giving up your work and home to live with Harry, in hindsight, there’s nothing wrong with having him take care of you, if anything you should be happy that he’s willing to do that. It shows the love he has for you but, why in this moment does it feel like you’re giving up your life; not on your terms but his.

When closing the chestnut door the walk down the familiar hallway is bittersweet. Intricate designs plastered on every inch of the walls, gold fixtures shining against the dim light before you reach the elevator and ring it back to the main floor.

Every chime is one you cherish no matter how stupid it may seem, the sound is sentimental and will forever be ingrained in your memory from the many nights your tall heels would stand in the moving machine. Your eyes dance around the revolving mirrors and lit up numbers, your fingers tracing over the covers and drinking them in as it will be the last time you’ll probably press them again.

The ding of the elevator thrusts you out of your thoughts and through the doors, it’s to your surprise once leaving that ginger hair and beaming smile greet you. The sweet aroma of her perfume wafts your senses as she pulls you into a hug, fur and strands of hair prickle against your skin as you lean into her touch.

“Hey babe! You’re working with me today?” Grace asks while pulling away, happiness written all over her features.

“Uh… no actually, just had to speak to Jasper,” You say, concealing the truth with an exaggerated eye roll.

“Don’t blame him, I barely see you anymore,” She jabs, hand gently shoving you which leaves you shaking your head in response.

“I’m busy, what can I say?” You shrug raising your hands up playfully to surrender.

“Yeah, busy being under Harry any chance you get,” It’s her turn to roll her eyes and nudge you with her hip. “But, hey! Angelo actually got me a booth tonight at his club, why don’t you and Harry come!” Grace suggests. Hazel eyes and white teeth shine with excitement at her offer.

You’ve never been with him in that sort of setting before, and honestly you don’t know how he’ll be either. But, you both are also not on great terms, so maybe a night out with some drinks and dancing will do you both some good.

“Uh, yeah, that actually sounds fun. I’ll ask him.” You beam with fakeness. “I actually should get going now, the car is waiting for me.”

“Okay! Hope to see you tonight!” Grace grins, pulling you into another hug before going to her destination.

Nodding your head timidly, you watch her orange hair bounce down the hall until her body disappears. A shaky breath escapes as you turn towards the entrance, hands fitting into your pockets as you push the doors open. The brisk air sweeps through as you tug your way towards the truck. Sincere smile spreads as Elio helps you into the vehicle before getting behind the wheel.

“Should I inform Mr. Styles that everything went as expected?” He calls from the front. Your hand tears away from their place and swipes away the lingering strands of hair combing over your face.

“Yes, it went well.” You sigh, eyes looking out the window as the car begins to move. The French pillars trail out of your version, leaving your heart splitting down the middle at the conclusion of your life.

“Actually Elio, can you do me a favor and ask Harry something for me?”

Surprise is an understatement with the fact you're walking through the club with music thumping your ear drums. Harry’s hand is secured tightly amongst your hips while the floor shakes from the erratic beat coursing through. With all the bodies shuffling through the room, you’re happy Harry’s team is pushing people through the mess directing you where to go.

You didn’t think he would agree to coming out tonight, but when he did you couldn’t have been anything but ecstatic. You threw on your tightest dress and curled your hair just the way he likes, also opting to wear the perfume he complimented on how irresistible you smell. Tonight you were going to win him back the way you know how.

“Yay! I’m so happy you came!” Grace screams over the song while pulling you into a hug.

“Oh my god!” Lucy joins, wrapping around you both. The feeling of another body being engulfed in the circle only means it’s Clarissa. The grin on your face spreads wider at the moment, head knocking around until they all pull apart.

“Hot lil’ thing aren’t you,” Clarissa remarks once pulling away. Her hand collects yours to twirl you around and display your appearance, the action only leaves you laughing as you smile at your friends.

“Thank you, thank you,” Rolling your eyes playfully as she releases her hold. The fitted black garment hugs your curves deliciously while your heels accentuate the length of your legs.

“But… everyone meet Harry,” You say, sight darting to him as you let your arm wrap around his waist, head leaning onto his chest as he smiles stiffly at your group of friends.

“Hello!” He nods to each, colourful strobes shine over everyone in the reserved area as all your friends introduce themselves.

“This bottle of Don Julio isn’t gonna finish itself!” Grace screams, picking the lengthy bottle off the table and raising in the air. It makes you giggle before turning to Harry with eyebrows raised.

“Let’s have fun tonight, yeah?” You say, hand running up his stomach before turning towards Grace who's already pouring shots for everyone.

After that, the night is in full swing; neon lights flashing over sweaty bodies, alcohol either being passed around in short glasses or poured into mouths messily, confetti shoots in the air every few moments as music blasts through the speakers.

The atmosphere in the booth is an energetic thrill, everyone getting along by singing and dancing, laughter and cheers filling the air as liquor takes over everyones system and leaves them in a good mood.

It’s in the flashing message board bringing another bottle that you realize how intoxicated you really are. The lights blinking at you seem to shift slowly, the music sounding through the space drowns out in a blur of noise as you stumble your way towards Harry, half empty Patron in your hand as you step in front of him.

“Open please!” You giggle up at him, fingers swinging the drink in hand while wiggling eyebrows.

“I’m good love,” Harry smiles down at you, his fingers finding their place on your hip as you pout at him.

“No! Tell him he needs to loosen up,” Turning your attention to Angelo who laughs at the exchange, shaking his head.

“Oh, come on,” You huff, rolling your eyes yet slipping deeper into Harry’s warmth. If he doesn’t want to take anymore shots then you surely will, you raise the clear bottle to your mouth, lips parting and happily willing to accept the liquor till you feel his hands tear it away from your hold.

“Trust me darling, you don’t need anymore,” Harry points out and passes the bottle to Angelo.

It only has you pouting, you wanted to have fun and you wanted Harry to loosen up some more, but you’ll accept his decision with another eye roll and trailing back over to your friends who are even more drunk than you.

“Bottoms up!” Lucy screams as she pours Clase Azul into your mouth, the amount so much you have to clasp your hand around her wrist to tear the bottle away.

“Ew,” You laugh, after swallowing the sickening amount, leaving Clarissa to chuckle at your reaction. Eyeing Grace across the section, you gesture for you to come towards you.

Happily complying she joins between the three as lights flash across your glistening bodies. The white and blue bottle gets exchanged between your friends, all taking shots before placing it on the table. As the neon strobes continue to flash and confetti fills the air, the DJ yells into the mic something inaudible until the song he puts on has the crowd cheering.

“Ah! Catch me slidin’ in a Benz, I ain’t looking for no man,” Clarissa screams her body turning towards you as her hips begin to sway. You can’t help the laugh that leaves as Lucy turns and grins at you.

“Ain’t recruiting no new friends! Louie bag filled with bands!” Grace is next as she dances behind the blonde, her head swinging seductively as she moves to the beat.

The energy is so ecstatic between the group that you find yourself joining in. Hips swiveling into Clarissa’s as your hands find themselves venturing toward her neck, fingers carding through her hair as you match the rhythm of her. The comfort of her palms trails down your sides, teasingly tugging the bottom of your dress up as you grind against each other.

“Get it, Sexy! Get it, Sexy!” Lucy cheers along with the song, her body leaning over and tapping your thigh as you and Clarissa manage to grind yourself lower towards the floor.

Laughter leaves both of your mouths as you continue circling your hips against each other, your head knocks back against her shoulder as you let the alcohol consume every motion while the song continues to thunder in your ears.

From your dazed out state to blurry vision, the rough grip over your hand tangled in Clarissa’s hair rips itself away as you stumble over your feet, nearly falling, as you’re being pulled out the booth and down the stairs. The movements are so fast you barely even catch yourself tripping down the flight and across the floor.

“Ow, stop,” You whine, feeling the pain in your wrist increase as the sight of Harry’s curly hair tug you through the mountain of bodies.

The crowds of people brush past you in a rough breeze, elbows and drinks hitting your moving body as you continue to be pulled away from the rambunctious scene.

“Harry you’re hurting me!” Yelling over the music as you try to twist around in his hold, still that doesn’t halt his motions as he continues pushing through the crowd.

It’s when cold air hits your skin and fills your nose do you breathe in a sigh of relief. Your hand jerks out of his grip as you look at him completely furious. “What the fuck are you doing!”

Yet, Harry ignores you, his body struts down the sidewalk past people throwing up or walking around slouched over their friends. And, instead of watching him continue to move further down the path you immediately follow, heels clicking against the cement as chatter and car horns fill the street.

“Hello! Can you talk to me please,” Drunkenly calling out for him as you trail behind like a dog, his footsteps rushed and harsh as the familiar black truck comes into view.

“Get in. Now.” Every word is a bite of aggression but in your drunken state you barely pay any mind as he holds the door open and watches your sluggish body climb into the vehicle.

“What’s your problem?” You mumble, back fitting into the leather seat as you watch Harry peel his phone out of his pocket, still ignoring you.

His voice rings through the space only leaving you to direct your attention to look outside the parked vehicle, vision shifting in slow twists that has you groaning. Hand rises to your forehead in frustration that it feels as if the car is spinning even though it’s parked.

The jostle of the truck shifts as the door slams close, your head peels up to see Elio in his familiar place as the car roars awake. The vehicle immediately peeling off, leaving the street lights from outside to flutter in.

“Why are we leaving?” You’re back to slurring over your words as you turn towards Harry, confusion evident in your expression while he looks cold as ever.

“The hell was that?” He hisses, eyes burning holes in your appearance but you can’t even tell from the alcohol shifting your vision, which leaves you giggling at his response.

“What was what?” Laughing faintly as your hands pull down the end of your dress.

“You’re a mess.” Harry scoffs, head shaking as he turns to look out the window.

Even drunk those words struck a cord within you, brows pushing together as you sit up in your chair and cock your head to the side.

“No, I’m not, don’t say that!” Your voice raising as your jaw tenses, the alcohol in your system fueling anger as you look at him distraught.

“Don’t say that? Look at you! Dancing and touching your friends like that, are you serious?!” Harry’s voice is booming over yours but in your state you don’t even care, you let your tone rise higher. The both of you look at each other livid.

“I’m having fun Harry, I’m at the club,” You respond, hands tearing away from your dress and crossing over themselves amongst your chest.

“It shows you have no class! No morals!” He snaps, nose flaring and hand slamming against the window of the truck.

“No class? No morals? Do I need to remind you where we met! Fuck you! You’re so insecure!” You’re shouting, chest rising heavily as your face screws up.

The laugh that leaves Harry is menacing, with his head shaking in disbelief, a cheery smile tugging across his lips. “Insecure?”

“Yes, insecure and jealous! What’s so wrong with me dancing with my friends!” You wouldn’t be surprised if your voices were heard outside of the car, and you actually feel bad for Elio having to hear the exchange of words. “Fuck! You’re making me so mad!”

“How do you think I feel?”

“You’re the one who started this!”

As the usual sight of Harry’s building fixes your version you’re immediately sitting up and tugging your dress down. The truck comes to a halt; you don’t wait for Elio to help you out as you peel your door open and begin making your way towards the entrance. Your ears burn with anger as your nose scrunches up, heels smacking against tiles as you press the elevator button erratically.

“Stop acting like a child,” Harry hisses once meeting your body, his key pressing into the sensor to allow access to the elevator for his penthouse.

“Fuck you,” You utter, eyes still staring ahead as your step into the machine.

Harry waves off Elio, his body retreating next to yours as you both stand in complete silence. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as your head shakes in pure frustration.

The chime of the elevator dings and your body immediately rushes through the open space of the living room, hair swishing against your neck as you practically speed walk through the room.

“Get over here!” Harry demands, voice rough and loud but you don’t listen, you keep your pace and venture up the stairs.

“Leave me alone!” You call back, his heavy footsteps sounding behind you as you walk down the hall.

“You’re not going out with your friends again!” He shouts following your body as you enter the bedroom.

“Like I’m going to listen to you,” You scoff heading towards the closet until Harry is gripping your waist roughly and turning you towards him.

“You’re running thin with me. Watch your fuckin’ mouth.” Each word a whispered hiss as he looks at you darkly. His hair framing his forehead as his lips press together, jaw tensing and hold growing tighter.

“I can’t stand you. You’re so controlling.” Your only response, as your eyes watch his dilate before his touch is turning you around roughly and pushing you into the mattress abruptly.

“Controlling? I’ll show you controlling.”

Your moving arms are caught in his hold as he tugs them behind your back. His other hand reaches down and pulls your dress over your hips to reveal your backside. Body moving against his hold as your head turns around seeing him in your peripheral vision.

“Harry,” You mutter, his palm roaming over your backside before it’s landing a smack amongst your skin.

He only grunts in response, hands smoothing over your ass before placing another slap. The harsh feeling over your backside has you biting into the sheets with pain and pleasure coursing through, the anger that once filled your body subsides as you fight yourself from moaning against his touch.

“You’ve been such a bad girl lately? What’s gotten into you?” Harry states, another harsh smack reddening your skin as the grip holding your hands together tightens.

Teeth graze the material of the sheets, eyes rolling at the adrenaline coursing through at each slap as your head relaxes into the mattress. Your chest breathes in deeply, fingers curling in on each other as your thighs shake against the bed frame.

“What’s your colour?” Harry demands, another furious strike coursing through your body. Your eyes squeeze shut as you whimper into the sheets.

Instead of answering you just bury your head deeper into the bed, mouth releasing the duvet as you bite back moans dying to trail out.

“Don’t hold out on me baby,” Harry chuckles, so deep and sinister that your spine crawls at the sound. “I know you like this.”

Teasing voice so sexy that your toes clench against each other amongst the pad of your heels, breasts caving deeper into the blanket while your hips jerk up at the deafening sound cracking against your cheeks.

“Fuck,” You cry, teeth biting into your bottom lip as a rush of thrill courses through and has your pussy throbbing.

“What’s your colour?” He asks again, his hand sliding between your cheeks and feeling between your legs to touch your heat.

The feeling of him taunting you by rubbing over your clothes or bruising your skin red is an addicting one, it has you rustling against the sheets praying for more even though you should be fighting these feelings.

“G —Green,” You breathe into the sheets so quietly that it only beckons another rough slap to welcome itself across your skin.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you love, speak up louder, what did you say?” Luring tone in his voice only has you groaning at his tantalizing ways.

Another smack meets your cheeks so harshly that your spine shoots up and heels chime against the floor. You’re sure your skin is bruised in different colour hues from the amount of strikes that he applies across your skin; and with the alcohol in your system still pumping through your veins, you can’t help the lengthy moan that slips out.

“Green,” You squeak, head shifting amongst the sheets as the feeling of the grip over your hands relaxes. His palm smooths over your backside once again before diving between and feeling over your covered folds.

“Tell me baby, why do you like making me upset?” Harry asks, fingertips dragging down your pussy with aggression that has you shuddering.

“I don’t,” You sigh, thighs quivering against the bed frame as you fall deeper into his touch.

“That’s what you think? Two days in a row you’ve been giving me problems. I don’t like that.” Fingers slipping between your panties to feel your pussy nearly soaking from the exchange of his actions.

“Harry,” You moan, eyes fluttering when you feel the pads of him grace your clit.

“Huh? What was that?” Hand tearing away from between your legs and roaming back up your scorching skin.

“S —Sir, I’m sorry sir,” Body shivering from his touch roaming up and down your exposed flesh.

“Still not good enough.” Harry’s voice deep and gruff as his hands fit under your tight dress, feeling over your heated skin before he’s tugging it over your head. “Come on darling, I know you can do better than that.”

“I —I’m sorry, Mr. Styles.” Words still slurring from the alcohol in your system to his mesmerizing aura.

“That’s my girl. Now, be a good doll and turn around for me.” The sound of your dress falling to the floor is heard as you turn around under his hold, eyes connecting on his dazzling ones that shine with the moonlight pouring through the window.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” Harry’s body looming over you as his hands dance up your sides, sliding amongst your clammy skin and feeling over your erect nipples. The touch is so slow and daring that you can’t help but whimper. “I hate when you upset me.”

His fingers grip your round flesh while his eyes skim over every curve and dip; your body flexes along with the shadows in the dark room, fingers feeling against the sheets below as you don’t dare break contact, not with the way he’s looking as if he wants to devour you.

“That’s why right now, you’re my toy. My little toy that’s been so nasty and filthy lately.” Hands drawing back down your sides, sinking past your hips and towards your pussy once again. “So dirty dancing like that on your friends.”

Your teeth bite into your bottom lip, thighs spreading wider accepting his touch while your head buries itself deeper into the mattress. His words only fuel the slick coursing through your pussy.

“You want to be a slut… so, I’ll treat you like one.” Fingers now slip into you only causing a moan to trail out. His lengthy digits thrust into you roughly that have your eyes open wider as he stares longingly at your reaction, smirk tugging at the ends of his lips.

“Play with you however I like… use you just the way I want.” Digits driving out just to plunge back in, the ends of his fingers curling deeply into your pussy that your mouth hangs open in surprise. Harry just started penetrating you and already your stomach was tickling with static.

“Teach you how to be my good little doll, hmm?” Harry continues, brow raising in question as his smile is still sinister from the expression crossing over your face.

As one hand is pleasing your throbbing pussy, the other lands one backhanded slap across your cheek completely surprising you but not enough that it doesn’t stop you from moaning softly and runting your hips against his motions.

“You’re pussy is mine to play with, do you understand?”

Your head bows urgently as you suck in a deep breath, lashes fluttering up at him as his tongue peeks out of his mouth to smooth across his bottom lip.

“Yes, Mr. Styles.”

Pearly white teeth shine at your doe expression continuing the rough thrusts of his fingers. Sweet nectar coating him with each curl that leaves you keening high in your throat.

“It’s mine to use and abuse,” Harry states, suited body covering over you as he examines every twitch in your face consumed with pleasure. “Your pussy belongs to me.”

Every comment is tingling your spine and has your lashes batting up at him so in love. Each word is degrading and brutal, words that should have you distraught but they don’t, they have another moan leaving your mouth as you accept the his urgent stroke of his fingers.

“Fuck, yes, Mr. Styles.” Your own hands curling into the sheets, thighs beginning to shake and head lolling back.

Harry surveys every inch of your skin that twitches and squirms from his hold over you. He admires watching your stomach quiver, and the way your pussy pulses in his palm has the erection in his pants press painfully against the zipper.

“Mhmm… I like how things are turning around now.” He smiles, digits leaving you to rub your slick all along your folds, spreading you wide as your thighs contract around him.

A whimper falls from your bitten lips as the warmth of Harry leaves. His hands go to undress himself, and as every piece of expensive clothing trails off and reveals the inked skin that you love so much, you can’t help but reach out and touch the tattoos roaming amongst his love handles.

“Gonna start being my good girl?” Harry demands, his body adjusting around your frame as he begins to tap himself along your folds.

The feeling has you shuddering, blinking up at him between your legs as you raise up on your elbows to get a better look. His cock rubbing against your clit, muscles tightening while he still stares as if wanting to ruin you.

“My personal fuck toy.” Letting himself slip between your walls and stretch you out heavenly. The sensation of him filling you up reveals a pleasant sigh as your thighs spread wider around his hips.

“Yes, Mr. Styles… you fuck me so good,” You whine, fingers trailing down his pelvis as he lets his hips glide in with ease.

Harry hums in acknowledgment, his hands finding themselves around your upper thighs, driving into your pussy tenderly letting you feel him expand your walls and sink right against your cervix before drawing back and repeating.

“Mhm, who makes you feel like this darling,” Head craning down as your vision shifts from between your legs to his face coming into view.

“You, only you.” With the quick response your other hand curls into the sheets as your body jerks against the mattress.

“That’s right… you and that dirty mouth of yours,” Breath fanning over your face as his grip along your skin tighten enough to leave bruises, the feeling has you gasping at the pain. “Gonna show me some respect.”

The pace of his thrusts increase leaving his hips to smack against yours. It causes your mouth to hang open and nails drag against his skin at the rapid speed now driving into you. The intense feeling of his cock spreading you wide has your mind a clutter of thoughts.

How can he stretch you out so heavenly yet look at you purely amused by his actions over you? How can he effortlessly pleasure every crevice of your pussy that craves him? How can he fuck the shit out of you yet still have you craving for more? He’s so addicting, so captivating, so intriguing, you’re in awe; you’re in love.

“I’m not one of those little boys you’re used to playing with. You will learn respect.” Eager hips diving into yours that your head falls into the sheets, eyes locking with the chandelier that shifts with every pound of his hips.

“Y —Yes, sir.” Knuckles going white as your spine curves towards his flexing stomach.

“Shut up,” Harry bellows, his hands leaving your thighs; one covering your mouth while the other wraps around your throat.

His harsh words don’t even bruise your feelings, it only has you moaning into his palm with tears beginning to prick your eyes. The blissful pleasure he was making you feel wasn’t even something you can explain.

“You’re such a fucking slut,” His hand releasing your throat to smack you, leaving your vision to trail away from the diamonds that float above and towards his face. Bottom lip between his teeth as his brows push together.

“And I’ll use you just like the one you are.”

Sweat trickles down every expanse of your limbs, bed sheets sticking and the frame of the bed smacking against the window. The tattering sound of it repeatedly hitting it fills the room as your legs hang in the air, shiny heels glistening in the moonlight as you continue to moan against his hand.

Harry could do anything and you would see no wrong, maybe it’s manipulative, maybe it’s controlling but it feels too good that you can’t resist; and why would you want to anyway, he’s the only one to ever make you feel things you never felt before. Like for example right now, the way your thighs begin to shake and spikes of pain course along your calves, only he can do that.

“You’re mine to use, mine to ruin.” His palm releasing from your mouth to land another slap across your cheek, it has you whimpering in response. “Understand me?”

Your lashes flutter as chest heaves drastically, mouth parting and pelvis quivering as you feel your climax barreling in.

“Y —Yes s —sir,” Stuttering as you look at Harry with complete devotion while he basks in it. “Sir.” You whisper, head bobbing with each rough assault to your pussy.

“What? You’re gonna come?” Harry grins, hands meeting your throat and squeezing tightly as he fucks you into the mattress.

“Please, sir, please, can I?” Voice hoarse as your lungs strain for air.

It’s the greedy smirk and shaking head that has your stomach clenching crazily, waist retreating against his furious ones as your fingers tug against the sheet.

“P —Please, Mr. Styles can—”

“—Shut up!”

Grip grows tighter as he continues to pound away. Every rock of his hips pierce your plush walls, and with each jerk of your body up the bed does it remind you that you’re nothing but his toy at the moment, nothing but his doll that he’ll use to his liking.

That’s why tears now flow down your temples, legs shaking against his hips as he toys with your body however he likes while you restrain yourself from releasing all over him.

“Want to be my good girl, then take it.” Face inches away as he watches the tears continue to stream down.

And you do, you suck in your abdomen as your quivering thighs try to close around his waist and accept every fatal attack. Teeth biting into your bottom lip as your throat wheezes for air.

“Play with you however I please,” He grunts, eyes searching your face that begs for oxygen that turns him on even more.

Harry’s hips continue to plunge inside your pussy and bruise your cervix; and with your tight walls twitching around him pleading for release it has his head sliding to the nape of your neck.

You feel him spill his seed into you, a beautiful moan slipping past his lips and along the sweaty skin of your neck as his grip relaxes.

Just the feeling of his come seeping into you has you moaning out, fingers tugging away from the sheets and drawing down his back as his hips don’t stop their torturing movements.

“Please sir, can I come, please,” Whimper tugging through your ruined throat as your lower half now begins to shake from the fight you put up.

“Yes, darling.” The one word you’ve been dying to hear has your stomach relax as you let go and release yourself all over his cock.

Creamy wave of arousal expelling over the thickness of him as his movements never slow. Wet kisses pepper themselves along your neck, his hands by your head feeling over your messy head of hair, while your body continues to twitch and contract around him.

Your grip around him relaxes, hips flexing against his own until he begins to pace himself, slowly rocking into your pussy that makes your chest settle.

“What’s your colour?” Harry asks, head rising and looking over your face. Dizzy expression overcoming your features that has him tugging his hand away from your locks and run over the heated skin.

“Green, sir,” Blinking up at him while swallowing heavily. The answer has Harry nodding, tongue peeking out of his mouth before he’s leaning back on his knees.

Thrusts come to a halt, his cock slipping out that has your mixtures spilling from your folds to drip along the sheets. It’s in the warm atmosphere that you both manage to catch your breaths, chest shallowly welcoming the air as sticky fingers roam up and down the expanse of sweaty skin.

“You’re so good to me baby,” Harry comments, his hands trailing up your leg to begin undoing the strap of your heels. When hearing them smack to the ground do you sigh in relief of having your feet free of the curved platform.

“Mhmm…” You mindlessly hum as you watch in complete awe of him undoing the next one.

“Always perfect for me.” His head running against your calf as he presses light kisses into the skin there. Your favorite words swelling your heart that it makes you get up on your elbows and gesture for him.

“Are we okay now?” You ask, letting your hands run across the skin of his chest.

“Yes baby… just no more surprises, I don’t know what I’ll do next time. Okay?”

“Okay.”

#pls don’t hate me after this #cause this one is… definitely something #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #smuttyaf #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #hs #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fandom #harry styles fic rec #mafia au #mafia!harry #harry styles one shots

[reyla-the-black-wolf]

My heart speaks for you (Part 1)

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Pairing: Eris x f!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: a bit fluff, slight angst, no other that I could think of

Summary: Y/n is the youngest child of the High Lord of the Night Court and lives a slightly different life than the rest of her family. But what happens, when an unexpected visitor enters the stage and decides to completely change her life?

Part 1 ⎮ Part 2 ⎮Part 3⎮

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The festivities were in full swing. All the guests wore breathtaking ball gowns and suits in every colour imaginable. And the shooting stars above us glistened like jewels from some long forgotten treasure. 

It was Starfall at the Night Court and our High Lord and his High Lady had worked hard to prepare this stunning ball. This year they wished to open Velaris to everyone, so all the other Courts were invited to enjoy this magnificent night. 

I stood on one of the many balconies at the House of Wind, gazing up at the wonderful night sky above me. The stars seemed magical as they came down one by one to greet us like old friends. I closed my eyes to worship this moment. The chatter of our guests echoed up to where I leaned against the marble railing. It cooled my skin, which was still hot and sweaty from all the dancing earlier. The sound of glass clinking, as people toasted each other. Sweet smelling pastries and other delicious treats hovered in the air. My mouth instinctively watered and I subconsciously smiled.

A lovely fresh spring breeze made my black silken dress swirl around my ankles. My hair stood on end at the sensation and I shivered. Taking a deep breath, I let the night-chilled air fill my lungs. I never wanted this tiny fragment of life to pass, as I enjoyed it to the full. Letting it sink into the deepest parts of my soul and surround me like a thick, cosy blanket. I could feel a warmth spreading all over my skin.

The fabric of my dress caressed my legs, as the wind brushed past it. It accentuated my body in all the right places, from my legs up to my hips and to my breasts. A silver necklace curled its way around my neck with a moonstone in shape of a teardrop set in the centre. It shimmered so brightly as if made of a star itself. To complete my look, I´d chosen some silver earrings. Also with a little moonstone. 

The Cursed Princess of the Night. 

That was my title. At least, that’s what other Fae called me. 

I opened my eyes only to pull back suddenly, as a tall, red-haired Fae stood beside me, watching the Starfall. Apparently I must have been under some kind of spell, as I didn’t hear the man approach me from behind. 

He was at least two heads taller than me and wore a dark crimson tunic with golden embroidery and a creamy white linen shirt underneath. The vest looked like it was made out of blood and the linen shirt perfectly showed off his toned muscles on his arm and chest. A few gold rings curled around his long, slender fingers. And his hair. I almost forgot how to breathe. His hair was a kaleidoscope of fiery colours. A blazing fire of red dawn and golden sunset. Neatly brushed back. He smelled of fresh parchment, rain and red wine. A warmth enveloped him, spreading until I could feel it shiver over my hot skin. 

I knew exactly who was standing before of me. The short, flaming hair. The lean figure. His exquisite attire. Standing beside me was the heir of the Autumn Court.

 Eris Vanserra. 

Apparently, I had let my eyes roam over his form for too long, for when I shifted my gaze to look at his face, he was staring right at me. I´ve never felt so exposed in my entire existence. He watched me as if he could peer straight into my very soul. I was in a trance, an comfortable feeling settled in my stomach. Cauldron! He looks like as if he was carved out of fire itself! All I could do was stare at him in awe. His handsome features. The sharp jawline and his amber eyes. A mischievous smirk played across his full lips, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. Blushing, I looked down at my feet. 

„What is a beautiful lady like you doing up here? Shouldn´t you be dancing with your family or perhaps with the guests?“ His voice sounded like a stream of molten gold. Delicate and charming, but with a hidden danger to it. I wanted to answer him. I really did. But… I just couldn´t. The words in my mind, but my mouth frozen.

When I didn´t respond, he tilted his head to the side. Like a fox staring at its prey. Something flickered in his eyes. Was that curiosity? 

„Pardon me, where are my manners? I´m Eris Vanserra. Heir to the Autumn Throne.“ He threw an elegant hand gesture in my direction and bowed his head. A few strands of his bright red hair fell loose across his forehead, giving him a cheeky look. 

„And you´re the Princess of Night, I suppose? Y/n, right?“ It was nothing but a statement. Of course he knew who I was. Not sure what to do, I just nodded quickly. 

Gathering some strength, I looked him right in the eye and then leaned back on the balcony beside him. My eyes were on the city below us. Velaris. He simply hummed at me, his eyes also sweeping over the City of Starlight. 

„It´s beautiful“, he commented, „but nothing compared to the view next to me, of course.“, his voice smooth as silk. I´d never met the Autumn Court heir in person, but I knew of his reputation. It was said he was a cruel and arrogant man. There was no trace of it now. Still I couldn´t help but smile shyly at his compliment. Daring a glance in his direction, I blushed uncontrollably. He stared at me again, a shameless grin on his face. What was going on? Normally, I´m not one to be flattered easily. Must be the alcohol… 

I smiled and nodded gratefully at him before turning my gaze back to Velaris. Enjoying the view of the city. My home. 

„Can you keep a secret?“ A hint of humour flashed across his face. I looked at him with big doe eyes, waiting for him to continue. „Starfall looks lovely, but in my opinion, it´s nothing compared to the Autumn equinox.“ A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. „You should visit it one day. Definitely worth it.“ He stared off into the distance, as if lost in a memory. He then began to tell me about the autumn equinox, about his brothers, growing up in his fathers Court. If anyone else had seen us, they probably would´ve mistaken us for old friends. Was I genuinely surprised that he shared such private details of his life with me, a complete stranger? Yes. Did it bother me? No, not in the slightest.  

I could feel myself relaxing as he spoke and Eris clearly didn´t care that I didn´t answer. He simply went on sharing his life with me. And I listened carefully to every word he said. Something about it felt quite intimate, as if he trusted me with his very soul. The man next to me, was the complete opposite of what others said about him. A ticklish feeling crept its way into my chest and somehow I knew he needed… this. Just two strangers standing on a balcony at the House of Wind. One talking, the other listening. He needed this as much as I did.

We remained like that for a while. Just the two of us, Velaris below and the stars falling upon us. Now surrounded by a comfortable silence. Eris decided to break it first.

„I´ve heard tales about you, you know? The cursed daughter.“ A pause. „Some say the Cauldron is to blame for your inability to speak.“ I stiffened at his unexpected honesty. „Why is it you can´t talk?“ A thousand questions sparkled in those beautiful eyes of his. It was nothing new for people to have questions about what was wrong with me. They made up all kinds of tales and theories. I was used to them talking behind my back, but I hadn´t expected him to bring it up. Always at ease with my condition, I was surprised, when something felt out of place. A sensation that had changed. But why? I didn´t even know him. Why would he elicit such a reaction in me? 

Feeling his eyes burning into my skin, I looked up at him, longing to say: I wish I could answer you. I truly want to! But I can´t…

Another expression slipped into his honeydew eyes. Sympathy. As if to tell me: I understand.

My eyes watered, but I didn´t mind. I felt completely lost in those cascades of liquid sunlight. Framed by his long lashes and fine wrinkles. Some others wouldn't even have noticed them. 

My star, where are you? Your mother is worried about you.

The voice of my father echoed in a corner of my mind, jolting me out of my trance. I blinked a few times, glanced at the door behind me and back at the man by my side with something, others might have called a pleading look. I have to go.

Eris understood and gave a deep bow. „It was a pleasure to meet you y/n. Princess of the Night.“ Something about the way he said it didn´t make me dislike that title.

I curtsied and spun around on my heel, sensing that this wasn´t the last time I would run into Eris Vanserra. 

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I spent the rest of the night with my family. Mor had a bit too much to drink, but so had her friend Viviane. They sat on the floor with Amren and Varian on velvet cushions, eagerly talking about some event, that happened recently. Cassian and Nesta were leaning on the great balcony, enveloped in each others arms, enjoying their togetherness. Uncle Az was watching the place, searching for any threats, as always. My father had told him, he had the night off, but why break with old habits. And then, there were my parents. High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court. Their crowns shone beneath the chandelier. Made of the most precious diamonds. Currently they were engaged in a lively conversation with Helion and some other Fae. Nyx, my older brother was next to them, holding a wine glass. His wings properly tucked behind his back.

I stood silently in a corner, observing the room. Every detail. The glittering embroidery on some of the ball gowns. The crystal glasses and the way the light was refracted in them. A scent from the pastries caught my attention and I took a deep breath. They smelled incredible. I was caught up in a maelstrom of iridescent colours as I watched the dancing guests. A whirlwind that carried me away and consumed me. A feeling crept over me as if something was watching me. Or rather, someone was. I scanned the hall, but found no one. 

Then a deep, nocturnal laugh snapped me out of my thoughts. My father's laughter. Seeing him and my mother so happy, made me smile to myself. I loved them dearly. But every time I saw them like this, something stirred inside me. A familiar feeling tugging at my heart.

Silent as a shadow, I sneaked out of the hall and headed up to my chambers. It was another wonderful Starfall, no doubt, but right now I wanted nothing more than to sleep. To swallow those rising emotions and banish them for the rest of the night. 

I quickly changed into something more comfortable and lay down on the large bed. Burying myself under the sheets, I soon drifted off into a deep sleep. 

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Grey rain clouds darkened the sky and a sharp wind tore through the treetops. Loose, broken leaves were blown from the muddy ground. I felt a piercing cold creep up my bare ankles, like a dead hand reaching for me. My tangled hair fluttered around my face as the panic trapped within my chest threatened to burst. Breathe! Breathe! My heartbeat rose higher and higher. I was dressed in nothing but a white linen dress, which swirled around my hips. The first drops of rain trickled down my pale cheeks. The wind grew stronger by the second, howling like an ancient spirit.

Breathe and open your eyes! My body screamed at me, but I wasn´t listening. Everything felt too much, when suddenly something soft brushed my thigh and the world stopped spinning for a moment. The gentle thuds of paws and a faint squeak could be heard. Slowly, I opened my eyes, only to be met with a fox sitting a few steps away. His thick, orange fur swirled in the breeze and his big, smoky eyes glistened with curiosity. He certainly was adorable with his black socks and the fluffy fur, his ears twitching. Squeaking again, he started running away from me. My body began to wake up, my feet stepping forward on their own.

I followed the little creature through the forest, trying not to loose him. Water splashed onto my legs, as I ran through some puddles. Fern leaves got stuck on my dress. The world around me, began to blur into a stream of pastel colours. A chaos of moss and olive-green leaves. Of grey sky and dark raindrops. Mixed with the scent of petrichor. The fox then slowed down and hid in a dark, narrow tunnel, waiting for me to follow. I took a few steps and stood at the entrance. My hand darted towards the shadows, but before I could to step into them, they consumed me. Suffocated me. Stole my air. My vision. And then slowly sunk into my very being…

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Sunrays shone down on my face. They tickled a bit and I scrunched my nose. A fresh breeze blew through the open windows and filled the room. The fine silver curtains swayed. I pulled the covers over my head, not wanting to stay up. But the birds chirping outside had other plans, so I kicked off the covers and got up.

As I was getting into a pair of black trousers and a bell-sleeved top, the entire house trembled beneath my feet. The birds were startled and fluttered away. What was going on? 

I quickly threw on some shoes and almost ran out of the room. Perhaps it was an earthquake? Hopefully nothing too serious. 

Moments like this made me wish I had inherited my father's wings.    

Hurrying down a long corridor, I made a sharp right turn and nearly stumbled down a flight of stairs. As I was about to pass another staircase, a certain darkness caught my eye. It spilled out from under a double door, which was decorated with intricate silver carvings. 

The conference room. 

Oh, yes. My mother had told me, that there would be a meeting with the other High Lords in the morning to discuss some new arrangements regarding the import of certain materials into the other courts and the continent. It didn't appear to be going well. 

An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. As I walked towards the door, a low growl reverberated through the walls. Father. 

„Rhys, let us talk about..“ My mother was cut off. „No! I demand to hear it from him! Who is it?“ His sombre voice was full of wrath. What could´ve possibly made him so upset? 

I stepped closer, not sure if I should knock and disturb them. You could literally feel the tension.

„Rhysand, this is a business council. We´re here to discuss other matters.“ I believed, that was Lord Thesan´s voice speaking. A pregnant pause followed. I could almost see my father glaring at him. „Y/n. It's Y/n.“ I couldn't identify the voice. Someone was gasping for air and mumbled something incomprehensible. After that, no one dared to say another word. 

Why were they talking about me? What was going on in there?

„You are not worthy of her.“ He practically spat out the word. My father´s sudden change of demeanour sent a shiver down my spine. „That decision is not yours to make.“ Heavy footsteps echoed across the room. „Call off your dog, Rhysand.“, Cassian snarled as he was addressed like that. „No need for hostility.“, the voice sounded as nonchalant as it could be.

Eris. 

The darkness around my feet grew thicker. With no clue what had gotten into me, I grabbed the door handle and entered the council room. Not a single person noticed me. Just as I was about to close the door and step into whatever situation awaited me, glass shattered on the wooden floor.

„She is my daughter. You are not entitled to her!“ I could do nothing but watch the scene unfold. „Rhys, you don´t understand. Y/n is my mate. You can´t keep her away from me.“ The air was practically charged with lightning. A tingling sensation, that… 

Wait what?…What did he just say?… I´m his.. his mate?

The room seemed too small now. Time stood still. Even the dust in the air had stopped moving. I inhaled sharply. My thoughts were racing. Pieces of memories flashed my mind.

Last night on the balcony. 

His cheeky grin. 

Mor, a dancing flash of red. 

Stars sparkling above our heads.

A full moon shining as bright as ever.

My parents holding each others hands.

The stories Eris had told me about his childhood. 

I must´ve heard this incorrectly. We hadn't even met each other until yesterday. But now it made sense, why he acted so.. so vulnerable in my presence. I was his mate. He was my mate. I had a mate. This one sentence repeatedly ran through my mind. 

Unconsciously, my foot took a step back at the realisation and one of the planks creaked awkwardly. As if slow motion, all faces turned to me. 

„Darling, I´m so sorry. This wasn´t meant for your...“, my father stuttered, but I couldn´t hear him anymore. His Apology ended in a swirl of pure silence. All I could do was stare at him. Eris. And he looked at me. Straight into my eyes with a shocked expression on his face. „Y/n, I..“, he tried to step forward but Cass stopped him immediately. Someone then gently grabbed my arm and pulled me along. Away from this moment, that just put my entire life upside down. A familiar scent flooded my nose and golden brown hair waved in my vision. The last thing I remember, was the doors closing behind me, as my mother winnowed us to the living room.

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@tele86 @circe143 @impossibelle @st4r-girl-official @cherry-cin

#acotar #eris vanserra #eris x reader #acotar fanfiction #slight angst #part one

[tearskillstardust]

🎍 SILENCE THROUGH A MOURNING PRAYER; zhongli

— summary; the god of the earth knows he will come out victorious in the war, but the security of his lover does not fail to bother him; and in the end, consume him.

— !! tw: themes of— blood, violence, no detailed descriptions of gore. !! discretion is advised.

— female reader, third person pov. angst and emotional content. long read under the cut.

Silence echoes throughout the plains.

There's a gentle lull to the silence, like a mother singing her child to sleep or a bird awakening from the night's gentle melody into the bright, seductive charm of the morning, its song carrying upon the wind.

There's a tree in the landscape that stands out, its pale leaves yellowed further by the action of the autumn; it provides home to a myriad of species who roam about, unaffected entirely by the world's chaos as they live on in blissful ignorance.

A divinity rests thereupon, his hair swaying gently with the gale. A young lady sits next to him, putting a flower crown together. She does not need to do it— a single wave of her wrists would be gesture enough for flowers to twist and wind together at her command, and yet she puts in her own effort at the polite demand of her lover, who sat next to her.

'The winds seem quite pleased today,' she says in her soft voice, and it rings indefinitely in the plane, the lovers' solitude interrupted only by a visitor magpie and a curious bypasser of a squirrel.

The geo archon smiled softly, though his eyes remained closed as he leaned against the tree. He hums before adding, 'Though I do not harbour any attachment for Barbatos, I do hope he emerges victorious as the Archon of wind and wine.'

'Why so?'

'There are few Gods like him who are willing to sacrifice out of free will.' the young lady nods at that, humming gently.

Silence ensues. A question follows suit.

'What do you think about your chances at victory, my lord?', she asks, and although she feigns lightheartedness, her shoulders are weighed heavy by future possibilities.

The Geo Archon shuffles quietly, his eyes open as he stares at his lover, unknown as she was of his stare pinned quietly on her. There's a burden behind those topaz irises, seemingly brighter though they shine upon her sight. He seems to hide a secret, locked away in the corner of his heart.

It's amusing, really—the most competent of beings weighed down by love. The being who can protect an entire nation, the being who can flatten mountains to plain lands and summon the rarest of jades and cor lapis stones from the depths to the earth at one command—the very being cannot find in himself the competence to protect his love. In reality, he knows that he will win the war she is speaking of but whether or not he will win the war he is thinking of is an entirely other question he cannot find the answer to.

His eyes fixate on her quiet, serene form as she continues innocently weaving the flowers together into a flower crown, their colour the favourite shade of her lover.

He cannot help but take note of the small mark of a star on her neck—her brightest mark that cannot be hidden by either colour or magic. It shines quietly against her softest spot, and he reminisces of the first time she had let him caress it gently. How vulnerable was she in that moment—neck turned, breath heavy as he held the very source of her life; what made it such an intimate affair was that he could press a little harder, and tear her veins out, but instead he chose to kiss.

He flinches slightly when he thinks—what would happen if somebody else knew of it? No, he thinks, shaking his head, I won't let anything happen to her, his voice firm in his head.

'My lord?', you ask when he is quiet for too long, turning around to gently take his hands in yours, their warmth penetrating your own.

'We will win, my love.' he answers, and there's firmness to it, in thought and in voice. She smiles at him, eyes the prefect crescents he loved so much.

She placed the flower crown on his head as he gently bows to reach her height. The flower crown is a muted shade of royal gold, the very colour of her eyes, as they sit on his head like a crown.

The lady laughs gently, as she jokes, 'Well, then, my lord, I'll be the person to bestow upon you the crown and the throne of this land when you win the war,'

'Do you swear?', he asks, curious and she nods back enthusiastically.

And he smiles; though it never quite reaches his eyes.

Morax stands with his hands folded as he looks out at the infinite expanse of the Liyuen planes, their once lively charm now replaced with a dull quietness, even during the busy hours of the evening.

'My lord,' Xiao says as he bows, polearm surrendered to the service of his God. Morax pays it little mind as he nods, never turning to face the yaksha, only giving him acknowledgement enough to stand up.

'You will accompany her till the last day of war, Alatus.'

It does not take him a moment to understand who is being referred to, there is only a single person in his life who he would be concerned about enough to sacrifice the service of his most competent yaksha. Alatus affirms the order, standing quietly afterwards when no words are spoken.

'I still do hope that you will do no lack in protecting yourself, too. You are like my own child—losing you would be akin to death for me. And yet, please look after her as long as you possibly can.'

Alatus has a strangely upsetting look upon his features, disreputing their usual serenity. Yet he nods. He does not mention that he would be glad to die if the question was about his God's lover, but he does bear that thought in mind when he whisks back into the wind, lost to sight.

Silence echoes throughout the plains.

There's a sinister feeling to the silence, like a moment of calm before a storm. It looms over her head—death with its lethal grasp and ghostly fingers as it twists the life out of her, leaving tears and blood in its wake. It is silencing and ghastly; a cruel mother, a twisted existence.

Her breaths are rigged, slow, and jagged as she tries to stand on her feet, leaning against a vine with her undamaged leg as she tries to gain comprehension of the landscape, only for the vision to blur again. The pain is unbearable now, slow and painful as it sucks the life out of her, blood seeping quickly out of her wounds, tainting the ground red. Desperation takes control of her in that state, rendering her unable to think straight, as she staggered.

An illusion of safety in the form of numerous vines surrounds her as she reaches out with all that's left in her for her sword that lies away. This will not last long as a strong enough barrier as she already felt the sword quickly tear through the vines and branches as time ran out. She would cry out, but the landscape was lone and barren except for her own presence and the God that was quickly slashing through her cocoon, his laugh growing more audible as time passed by.

A pang of worry plagues her heart regarding the health of her lover even in her own frail state. With whatever little strength was left inside of her, she stood on her own feet, the sword in her hands as she braved through the fear and came at last into the sight of the cruel, cruel God as he laughed at her, beckoning to whatever was left of her.

'Well, looks like not everyone the God of the earth is associated with is as strong as him. You're quite the tarnish on his reputation, aren't you, my darling?'

The God of the earth.

As soon as she had caught wind of the fact that he had been injured gravely, she had made Xiao leave at once for his defence at the cost of her own safety and life. She made him swear then—that he wouldn't return until he was restored to consciousness. Where are you, my lord?, She thought anxiously to herself, gaze blurring further with each passing second, knees shaking in astute surrender.

In her distracted moment, the God shifted quickly to her side, her hands then pinned behind her back and sword discarded immediately as the tip of his polearm came to rest against the very shining star on her neck as she gasped in horror—her Achilles's heel.

'What will the God of the earth do now?' He asks with a laugh, infinitely amused by the tragedy.

Suddenly, as though the whole world had disappeared, the plane went as silent as it possibly could as a bright aura asserted its presence, blinding all for a moment as he absorbed the sight before him.

Drip.

The echo of blood dripping on the ground reached his ears, and his eyes widened as he witnessed the state of his lover in unfathomable horror. Their eyes met, and even though she was almost blinded with weakness at that moment, even with her blurred vision she would have never missed the bright of her lover's presence and eyes as he stood in front of her, voice stuck in his throat.

Fear temporarily encircled his senses, froze his hands, numbed his heart as he stared in desperation at her frame, pinned against the ground; the tip of the sharp blade against her Achilles's heel, her most vulnerable spot, tears staining her bright eyes which were now dulled with pain and with a prayer upon her mouth, hands folded almost as though in prayer—

White, hot rage flooded his veins as he summoned his divine spear; and with a huge roar, it split through the air before tearing through the God's flesh with a terrifying sizzle as the polearm took its position in the ground, pinning the God there. She flinched harshly as she moved away from him with little strength that remained yet in her weak physique.

'My love?', the God questioned in a heavy voice as he moved with impatience evident upon his features towards her. He walked quickly, sprinting almost as he rushed to her aid, unable to prevent the involuntary cracking of his voice as he saw her heart-wrenching condition.

His heart beat harsher, quicker, louder in anticipation, in desperation as he covered the vast expanse between them as fast as he possibly could. Instinct screamed at him, a numbing fear weighing him down as he moved quicker and quicker and quicker—

'..My lord?' the lady questioned gently, as she stood up once again with shaky legs and a slow, staggering pace. She smiled slowly, unable to do it as naturally as she usually did, pain overtaking her senses. 'I knew you'd come,' I knew you'd come because this was salvation and you were my God.

She slowly dragged herself against the ground, taking support of her sword as her lover moved towards her with equal if not more impatience as he reached his hand out to her and she had just taken it—

His eyes pinned on the God behind her as he pulled her back from the torn portion of cloth. He pronounced her name with great hatred, without anything attached to it, only an instinctual hatred laced to it. The God of the earth shouted, the earth shook in response, the skies raining down their anxious sorrow in response but she failed to respond at all.

       Then he held her, tightly, like he was suffocating, last breath snatched by an instinct to kill, like this was the first and last time he'd ever hold anyone, like murder was primal and he couldn't shy away from its beckoning voice, like a siren, a father, a ghost, with a blade to her neck, the curse on his tongue—

The God fell to the ground, and so followed the limp body of his lover.

Silence echoes throughout the plains.

There's a crispness to it, like the beckoning of winter as it opened its arms in a cold embrace. Cruel yet loving in its wake. A group of curious magpies and bypassers consisting of troops of squirrels stare at him as crouches below the tree, eyes closed as he breathes slowly.

A polearm stands right behind the tree, unperturbed yet disturbing in its existence as it impaled the expansive roots of the tree, cruelly seeming to harbour a desire to kill it, yet failing entirely in its unfathomably small existence. The tree generously expanded as far as it could, the flowers on its foliage a lovely muted golden as its leaves twisted and turned with the action of the playful wind.

He does not budge, however.

'Well, then, my lord, I'll be the person to bestow upon you the crown and the throne of this land when you win the war,'

'The time has come Goddess,' he pronounces, voice laced with foreign emotion as looks up to the tree, topaz eyes less brilliant than they once were. 'The time has come for you to fulfil your oath.'

At that very moment, as soon as he ends his words, a golden flower descends on his head, and then a small shower of flowers follows as he bows his head in grateful acceptance.

Heaviness is buried somewhere in his heart, and the adoring look that almost always adorned his eyes was absent entirely. But the tree was as lively as ever before, generous and giving even in these cold winters that had stolen the charm of the landscape. Its golden leaves danced gently, like a lively butterfly.

He could not help but frown slightly at that moment, looking upwards. 'Will I ever find you again, Goddess?'

Five small, golden flowers descend slowly in response.

Summer spreads its wide wings with newfound generosity after the reserved spring. Children frolic with laughter and joy play around the vast expanse of the harbour as a lively flute tune plays on the wind. As everyone enjoys themselves under the bright seduction of the summer sun, surely no one has wondered when autumn will arrive?

But Zhongli does, as he rests underneath the tree and its generous shade. As he gazes thoughtfully at the people, he locks eyes with a familiar shade of muted golden ones. A breeze passes against his ears.

He stares, and she stares back.

Autumn has arrived.

a small explanation for the end— the tree that appears next to the polearm is actually the spirit of zhongli's lover, an earth goddess who chose to gift abundance to the land of her lover by anchoring her spirit to it through the means of being an evergreen tree. the five flowers that fall at the end represent five hundred years; the time she takes to reincarnate.

initially, it is mentioned that— [... a tree in the landscape that stands out, its pale leaves yellowed further by the action of the autumn... ] which is representative of her element, of herself. it is the season she ends the chapter of love with zhongli in her previous life, and accordingly, chooses to reincarnate in the very same season in this lifetime.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli x reader #zhongli #zhongli x you #zhongli x y/n #genshin angst #genshin fic

[asa-do-your-thing]

"My Sweet"

18+ MINORS DNI Robb Stark x F!OC Part of my fanfiction Dreams WC: 2.3k Warnings // Tags: blowjob, doggystyle sex, kinda fluffy, eating out / fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex

Alea eacta est, you've all voted and decided you wanted a smutty Robb scene, so here you go:

special thanks to @valeskafics and @aemonddtargaryen for your enthusiasm! <3

The courtyard of Winterfell was absent of people, except for a handful of guards near the entrance. Lucie's heart raced when she saw Robb step out from the keep, his blue eyes beaming with what seemed like secret joy. His cloak fluttered in the wind, as if it had been placed there to enhance his wavy auburn hair.

He cut an impressive figure, yet he remained remarkably amiable - he put forth all his effort to win her affections and Lucie had to acknowledge that he was indeed making progress.

Robb stepped forward and held out his hand towards Lucie. "Welcome my love," he said warmly, intertwining their fingers together when she accepted his offer. "Today we will celebrate your name day some place away from anyone who might disturb us."

"Is that so?" Lucie said with a small grin. "Where are you planning on taking me? Bear Island?"

Rolling his eyes, he guided her towards the godswood, the snow hitting her ruddy face like angry shards of ice. The weather really had taken a turn for the worse in the last few weeks.

"Not Bear Island, my Lady," he said with mock seriousness. "But I have something special planned for us."

Lucie felt her heart swell with excitement as Robb took her hand and led her through the godswood. They walked through the trees and underbrush, past the heart tree, surrounded by tall trunks of fir, pine, and birch. The snow still clung to the branches like frosting on a cake - a stunningly beautiful sight despite the chill in the air. As they walked further into the wood, Lucie noted a few streams of light peeking through the branches in front of them, casting shadows over their faces and onto the floor below.

Robb paused in front of a clearing where there stood an old wooden structure hidden away from view. He smiled at Lucie before looking up towards the window of what she could now see was an old greenhouse. "This is where we shall celebrate your name day," he said grandly as he opened up a small door towards one side.

Lucie stepped inside cautiously, blinking the moist heat away after it had hit her, surveying her surroundings: plants grew everywhere and exquisite blooms filled every corner of this warm paradise; beautiful colours that somehow seemed to be glowing even brighter against all the greenery surrounding them. But this wasn't just the usual glass garden; Lucie could tell that it had been specially prepared for her - there were ribbons woven into vines, candles lit along the pathways and a table set for two, laden with sweet treats and wine that looked like it had been carefully selected for the occasion.

Robb gestured to the table and pulled out a chair for her after taking off his coat and his gloves. "Please, my Lady, take a seat," he said with a smile as he sat across from her. "I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of arranging all of this."

Lucie laughed softly and shook her head, following suit. "No, not at all," she said, taking in the sight of the feast before her. "It's beautiful. And I'm so grateful for all of this. You've truly outdone yourself."

Robb smiled at the praise, but his eyes never left her face. Lucie couldn't help but feel a shiver run through her when she saw the intensity of his gaze. She knew that look well - it was the same look he had given her the last time they had been alone together. Gods, would that happen every time they were to be alone now?

The awkward silence that had fallen over them only added to her anticipation, as Robb poured them each a glass of wine. "I have a question for you," he said, his voice low, his fingers playing around.

Lucie felt her stomach drop as she waited for what he might say next. "What is it?"

Robb leaned forward, his eyes alive with mischief. "Have you ever made love on a table, Lucie?" he asked.

Lucie sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening with surprise. She knew that Robb had a lusty streak to him - it was something that he had shown her before - but she hadn't expected him to be so... brazen. She tried to ignore the heat that flooded her face at the thought of what he was suggesting.

"I...I can't say that I have," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "You've been my first and then we were in the... bath."

Robb's face was still so close to hers, and she could feel the heat emanating from him. "Well then," he said, as he rose from his chair and walked around to her side of the table. "Let's fix that, shall we?"

Lucie could hardly breathe as Robb grabbed her hand and savagely pulled her towards him. In a whirlwind of passion, she felt herself being pulled closer to him. His hands fumbled with the plates and goblets on the table, shoving them aside until they eventually tumbled down to the ground.

"Robb!" Lucie gasped in shock, trying to break free from his grip even as her body ached for more. Suddenly Robb swept her up and placed her onto the table, yanking up her skirts and planting hot, hungry kisses onto her trembling thighs. The warmth of his lips sent shivers through every inch of her skin, even more so as he gently opened up her folds, placing the gentlest of kisses on her pearl.

"You're mine, my pretty girl...," he mumbled, the low rumble of his voice and the touch of his strong fingers on her little, sensitive bud made her gasp and moan with pleasure.

"Oh Robb!" she felt herself whisper, tangling her fingers in his hair and closing her eyes as he pleasured her. Suddenly, she felt herself losing control, her hands started to shake, her legs quiver. She bit her lip, hard, to muffle the cry as she felt herself unraveling. Last time, everything was so much slower, so much... different, it had taken her ages but now...

"Someone's excited," Robb whispered as he stood up again, giving her a slow kiss. "I want you to come around my cock. So, sweetling... you'll have to learn to be patient." With that, he moved back down again, gently tracing his finger over her cunny, grinning as she mewled, moaned, begged for him to glide it into her.

"You make me so happy," he murmured between kisses, his eyes still full of desire and want. His fingers moved inside her, curling and rotating until Lucie's breath was ragged with desire, unforgiving in their pace.

The intensity of the pleasure was almost unbearable, yet Robb kept her dangling on the edge, providing her with pleasure, but never enough to push her over. And soon, she found herself on the brink of pleasure and pain, her body writhing in ecstasy, yet denying itself the ultimate release.

Robb finally pulled away, leaving her shaking and sobbing with an ache that couldn't be filled, the sensation of being at the edge of pleasure and pain an unbearable agony. Lucie had never experienced anything like it before, and yet it was as if Robb had known exactly how to push her to her limits, how to control her pleasure and when to pull away.

Still trembling from the overwhelming pleasure, Lucie looked up into Robb's eyes and was met with awe and admiration. He was gazing at her as if she were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Slowly, he helped her sit up and cupped her face in his hands, giving her a sly smirk before kissing her sweetly.

"Luce, you can't expect me to do everything," he murmured against her lips. "Let me see what you're capable of." With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he guided her down onto the floor on her knees. "It's time for you to take charge."

Lucie's heart skipped a beat at his words, feeling a surge of excitement and nervousness wash over her. She had never been in control before, always being submissive to Robb's desires. But now, with him giving her permission to take charge, she couldn't resist the opportunity.

"Okay," she breathed out shakily as she positioned herself before him, nervously unlacing his breeches and pulling them down, helping his take them off completely. Her heart raced as she saw his hard member in front of her face and his hungry look as she looked up. She bit her lip nervously and gently guided it to her mouth.

"That's it," Robb encouraged her, reaching down to softly caress her hair. "Use your tongue."

Lucie followed his advice and began using her tongue on the tip of his cock. She felt it twitch against her tongue, and the knowledge that she was making him feel this way caused her own body to heat up immensely.

Robb groaned and gently, yet firmly held onto her braids. "Fuck, you're doing this so well, I..."

Trying to suppress a smile, Lucie gently slid him into her mouth, trying her hardest to breath and to take him in fully. Even though she'd have loved for him to have taken him right there on the table, this also had a certain... allure.

Her small hand gripped his hip, and she slowly began to bob her head up and down, listening to the noises he made. After a couple of minutes, she felt his him stiffening and he held her head down, gently thrusting his hips while she took him in fully. She couldn't believe it herself, but she quickly pulled back from him, wiping away the small strand of spit that was on her chin.

Robb opened his eyes in suprise and grinned, motioning to the table. "Fuck, Lucie, you little minx... Get up on the table. All fours."

Lucie followed his instructions, crawling up onto the table and spreading her arms and legs so she was leaning over the edge, her small round ass sticking up in the air. She gasped as she felt him spread her ass cheeks and grab them tightly, so tightly that she was sure he'd leave marks on them.

"Ahn, Robb... I... Please..."

"Such a good girl, aren't you? So wet for me, my sweetling, so desperate for my cock," he whispered huskily into her ear before nipping at it playfully.

Lucie took a deep breath and reached back to grasp Robb's throbbing erection in one hand while using the other to guide it towards her wet opening. She could feel its heat against the sensitive skin between her legs and couldn't resist rubbing herself against it teasingly.

Robb groaned loudly at the sensation, his fingers tightening around Lucie's hips, urging her to continue. She did, positioning herself hesitantly and letting him push in his big, throbbing member, making her squirm and moan.

Gently, he pulled out and thrust himself back in, rocking back and forth, pulling out slowly and then pushing back in as she let out a loud cry of pleasure, his cock filling her up in a way she had never experienced before. Taking a deep breath, she rocked back onto him, allowing him to push even deeper inside her, the sensation sending waves of pleasure throughout her body.

"My, my, Lucie," Robb groaned softly, his hands on her hips moving in a circular motion, his thrusts becoming more and more powerful. "You are such a good girl for me..."

Lucie could feel her pleasure rising again as she let out small moans of delight and pleasure, even more so as Robb started to finger her clit. The pressure inside her was almost unbearable at that point, and as Robb continued to pleasure her, she was overwhelmed with the feeling of ecstasy, shuddering hard as she felt herself tightening around his cock.

"Ah! That's it, fuck... there you go my sweet," Robb's grip on her hips became tighter and he thrust himself deeper into her, a low moan escaping his lips as he felt her tighten even more around him.

"I'm... I... Robb..." Lucie whispered, her voice sounding hoarse as she worked towards her release.

"That's it, my sweetling, come for me, let go..."

With these words pushing her over the edge, Lucie let out a loud cry of pleasure as she fell apart on the table underneath him, her orgasm shaking her small body. Her fingers clenched around the tablecloth with such force, her knuckles tuned white.

Robb groaned loudly as he followed after her, groaning out her name and emptying himself inside her as he found his own pleasure in her tight embrace.

As he pulled out of her, Lucie gasped in surprise, feeling slightly weak from her orgasm. Robb caught her as her legs gave out beneath her, holding her close to him before laying her gently onto the table.

Smiling, he reached over to grab a cloth and wiped her down gently before taking his time brushing away the sweat from her neck and back. He then turned his attention to her hair, untangling the knots in her braids and fixing them carefully until they were once again styled in their original formation.

"No one's ever going to notice anything," he whispered into her ear.

Lucie, slowly getting back to her senses grinned and pulled down her dress once again and glances over the smashed cakes and puddles of wine on the floor. "No, how could they. Let's just say Grey Wind caused this," she said with a giggle.

"You're right. We'll say he got jealous of the attention you were getting."

They laughed as Robb helped her off the table. "Direwolves are known for they love of sweet treats."

#asas fics #robb stark smut #robb stark x oc #robb stark fanfic #got #game of thrones smut #game of thrones #asoiaf fanfiction #ask game #asoiaf #asoiaf smut #robb stark

[v3nusxsky]

no more sad prentiss fics please 🧎‍♀️my official request for something wholesome and happy. Prentiss having a crush on R and remembering her coffee order/bringing it in every morning and being teased by tara and jj for it. during girls night reader is hit on by a stranger and she finally works up the courage to confess her feelings. and then, somethin smutty. (so sad ending 🤨)

Acts of service 18+

*Authors note~ I'm sorry about the sad prentiss fics I was going through something and poor em got the angst. I hope this makes up for it! Here's to a more lighter fic*

Trigger warnings~ daddy em sub r strap on oral praise degrading, ownership ? Thigh riding

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

Love languages are a funny thing that completely make sense with the psychology sides of love. Emily Prentiss prided herself on being an attentive lover. Her job at the BAU provided her with an excellent use of her skills. Observing people is second nature to the raven haired woman so it's no surprise that she watched you, committing things to memory. Truly, Emily was crushing on you, but not confident in your sexuality to be as bold to ask you out. So she found other ways to show love and attention, like memorising what beverage you brought to work everyday, how you stuck to a similar routine unless their was a case, how you ran your tongue over your lips in concentration or thought, when you got anxious you messed with your fingers. Yes Emily observed you from afar, afraid that's all she'd ever be able to do.

It became a ritual for Emily, she would arrive to work a few minutes earlier than you, with a hot chocolate with cream and chocolate pan au chocolate. Then when you arrived a few minutes later you would be greeted by breakfast all ready and waiting for you. You never knew who or why but it was always welcomed by you. The little action of care truly warmed your heart and made your Morning that bit better.

JJ and Tara however knew exactly who was behind the breakfast and couldn't help but tease their friend about the crush. After all Emily truly deserved some love and happiness in her life since Doyle and when SSA Parker joined the BAU a spark returned in the raven haired woman that they had missed. Teasing Emily was second nature, the whole team functioning as if they were a big happy family. It was only natural that they delighted in her blushes at the mention of you.

Girls night was something you always looked forward to. Luckily there was no case tonight, so you, Tara, JJ, Emily, Alex and Garcia were all heading out for a few drinks. You can't say you were wearing much different than what you wore to work which was some skin tight black jeans and a simple wine coloured blouse, if you got cold you'd always shove your FBI jacket on to keep warm. It was quite common for the ladies to wear similar clothing, although Alex preferred her suits and Garcia preferred her brighter clothing.

"My round guys?" You murmured happily. Receiving nods of approval you set off to the bar to get another round in, that was when she saw her opportunity. "Hey sweetheart, you alone tonight baby" the women purred at you, "I'm Alexis!" "Hey" you mumbled shyly watching as she lent against the bar in attempt to gain your attention. You were vaguely aware of Emily's eyes boring into your back. "I'm, not interested" you smiled hoping to soften the blow but she immediately became frustrated. "Then you shouldn't come here dressed like a whore!" She spat at you before coming to stop you the bar.

"Angel? Did you get those drinks?" Emily murmured into your ear, a hand circling around your waist protectively. "I uh um yeah here" you stuttered handing her two drinks to carry while you held the tray of the others. Emily even made a active effort to flash her gun causing the offending woman to scamper off. "Are you okay angel?" Emily murmured as you made it back to the table. A subtle nod, was all she offered before drinking in silence.

"Guys I'm gonna take misses here home" Emily murmured to the rest of the team while you were seemingly zoned out. "Look after her Em" Garcia whispered and JJ couldn't help but tease with a slight giggle, "don't fuck her too hard em!" Which you were met a quick glare. "Hey angel! Wait up love" Emily murmured hurrying after you only to find that you had tears silently streaming down your cheeks as you attempted to leave, forgetting you didn't drive here.

"Sweetheart, why are you crying?" She mumbled coming to stop you from walking and wiped your tears. "I didn't want her! I wanted you!" You sobbed not even worrying about the fact you just told your boss that you wanted her. "Who do you think gets your hot chocolate and cream with your pastry every morning?" The little shocked gasp you let out was truly adorable and she couldn't help but find you adorable, "That was you?!" "Yes angel, let me drive you home?" Her question sounding timid and insecure as if you'd say no. "Em? Go to yours?" You whimpered feeling relieved when she nodded in approval.

Together you both walked into Emily's apartment and got settled on her sofa. "Angel? You know I care about you so very much and I want you to be mine. Can I kiss you?" She whispered causing you not nod.  The kiss started off sweet and innocent but the pent up desire from the past months began to rear their head. A little whimper escaped your lips as Emily lifted you to straddle her thigh, "oh Em!"

Pulling away to rest your foreheads against one another, "em, please" you whimpered, "sweetheart are you sure?" With a needy kiss in confrontation you began to slowly roll your hips down against her toned thigh. "Oh fuck" you whined causing her to grip onto your hips to guide those movements. "Oh sweetheart, fuck I've wanted this for so long" she purred into your ear."Please ems" you mewled still drenching her thigh and your pants plus your underwear. "Shall we angel?" She teased before scooping you up so she could kiss you. The kind of kiss to make your toes curl. Emily set you down gently before stripping all your clothing and copying for her own. "Are you sure my love?"

"Please" you whimpered unable to tear your eyes from her body. "Okay angel, at any time you can say red and I'll stop" she murmured cupping your cheek and holding your gaze. "Yes" you nodded. "Kneel" she demanded and chuckling as you instantly fell to your knees in front of her. "Such an obedient thing for daddy" she tried hesitantly, only to see just how much you enjoyed the wording. "Daddy's perfect girl aren't you baby?"

"Be a good doll and make daddy cum" she commanded pointing to the bed to indicate she wanted you on your back. You scrambled to follow her order to be rewarded by her sitting on your face and lowering her soaked folds to your lips. "Oh fuck daddy you smell so good" you murmured happily before licking and sucking at her folds. "Oh good girl, such a good little slut for daddy, keep going baby. Oh god" she whimpered, your hands coming to clutch her thighs in order to keep her in position.

"Oh fuck gonna cum, gonna cum so fucking much whore" she mewled as you sucked harshly on her bundle of nerves causing her to let go all over your face. "Oh fuck talented little dolly for daddy" she panted as her hips finally slowed from rocking on your face. "Good girl, fuck baby want to own you, take you with my strap, can I love? Can daddy fuck you nice and hard" she panted climbing off your face. "Oh god daddy please own me make me yours" you mewled happily wiping your chin of her slick.

"Flip onto your hands and knees baby" she murmured while adorning her strap. "Angel colour?" She murmured as she applied a generous coating of lube to the faux cock. "Green please need you inside. Need your dick daddy" you whimpered rocking your hips backwards into the air. "Pathetic slut,you'd let me do anything now wouldnt you? Hmm slut?" She teased adding an explanatory spark to your ass. "Oh god! Fuck me please please, make me forget daddy!"

Emily eagerly slipped the silicone cock into your cunt. "Oh fuck! Angel you're taking me so good" she murmured watching your cunt drag her cock into your folds. "Fuck fuck daddy fuck god Jesus more" you mewled over and over again. The thrusts became ruthless and merciless, "fuck god this pussy" she panted happily. "Daddy daddy daddy oh god need cum" you whined causing her to reach around your waist and rub tight circles on your clit. "Daddy fuck me god" you screamed as you drenched the cock squirting as well from the pleasure. She slowed her thrusts to help bring you through the come down before slipping out of your cunt. "So good baby, such a good angel for me" she murmured tossing the strap to the side and coming to hold you. "Can daddy get you anything?"

"No daddy just hold me" you whimpered snuggling into the raven haired woman's neck, "mmm love you ems" you mumbled sleepily causing the older woman to smile. "I love you too my Angel."

Word count~ 1606

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x reader smut #emily prentiss smut #ssa emily prentiss #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss #SSA prentiss x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #anon request #anon requested

[alavestineneas]

Nothing we can do

pairing: Finnick Odair x fem!reader

summary: Finnick Odair hates everything about the Capitol and has every right to do so. But what if there was someone who made it a little more complicated?

warnings: mentions of rape, typical hunger games violence

chapter 1 -> chapter 2 -> chapter 3

''Mister Odair, what a pleasure seeing you in such a cheerful spirit! I hope I don't ruin it with my presence, will I?''

Finnick wanted nothing more than to agree with a man, but instead, he politely smiled. ''Never, President Snow.''

''That's good news. I've noticed you made friends with Miss Y/N.'' A white-haired man lifted a glass from a tray, studying a weirdly coloured liquid inside. ''Such a remarkable young lady. Very bright, and might I as well add, very favoured amongst the suitors.''

Finnick did not understand where Snow was going with this, but it promised nothing good for him or Y/N. He wasn't that naive to even hope they could keep this a secret, but it wasn't that evident. Besides, Snow still got his money. Then what was it?

''You see, Mister Odair, Miss Y/N managed to catch the eye of our new military commander - such a sweet couple they are. Now, Mister Odair, we don't want anybody getting in the lovers' way, do we?''

''No, President Snow.'' Finnick felt the air leaving his chest. This punishment was clever, he must admit. Still keeping both of them around but reminded of their place. It was cruel. In the best traditions of the Capitol.

''Good. You are a smart man, Finnick. I trust you to make the right decision.'' The President implied their short exchange was over.

The solution was quite simple - Y/N is marrying the man, and Finnick keeps himself as far as possible. It should be easy. They are not even lovers, just acquaintances. If that is true, however, Finnick's hands wouldn't tremble as much as they do now. He was in love with a dumb lonely girl from the Capitol, and now he had to let her go.

He was invited to the wedding, of course. It might have been Y/N's idea or the President's order - either way he was stuck drinking cocktails and chatting with a bunch of assholes while they all waited for the lover birds to appear.

A tremendous garden was filled with live music and laughter. The wedding was lavish: fountains of chocolate, crates of fresh fruits, names of which Finnick could not pronounce, expensive meat and fish, literal pools of champagne and wine. It isn't something she would have chosen, he thinks. But then, does he really know?

The first notes of a famous melody hit the guests' ears - they hurriedly took their seats, aligned in neat rows. The first to walk down the decorated aisle was the groom. A man in his thirties in a functional but high-class suit walked quickly. He was everything you expect from a soldier - serious and cold eyes, lean figure and short hair. The man looked nothing like people here, so Finnick assumed he wasn't from around here, probably from District 2.  

Then, she appeared. Beautiful white wedding gown, with red gemstones covering her shoulders and descending onto the neckline. From afar, Finnick assumed it was made to resemble fire. But when she moved closer, he realised. The gemstones were droplets of blood. People caught that too, judging from a few gasps in the crowd. Y/N smiled at them, a knowing look in her eyes. The goodbye look.

It hurt, Finnick noted with slight amazement. Watching her kiss a stranger instead of him. What hurt more were her tears, which many falsely assumed were happy. Finnick did not miss how her now husband grabbed her forearm in anger or how her mother tried to cover her sobs in Mr.'s Y/L/N shoulder.

''We have two minutes. He promised me he'll kill me if I ever spoke to you again. And I believe him.''

''Snow?"

''No, Derek. They say he turned his ex-wife into the avox. Can you believe that?'' Y/N chuckled, but Finnick knew better. She was scared.

''Snow also made it very clear that we can't speak again.''

Y/N nodded. ''I guess it is for the best.''

He wanted to say more: to comfort her, to say that it'll be alright, to say that he loves her. But it would make no difference, only give them something they can never afford to have - hope.

Y/N seemed to understand that too. ''Try to stay alive, Finnick. It suits you.''

-

The month changed quickly after that. Quite frankly, Finnick lost count of them a long time ago. Nothing new. Same faces, same duties, the same fake smiles and a small voice in his head.

The voice that slowly poisoned his mind. The voice that woke him up at night and haunted him in the daytime. Telling him that he is a coward, that there was a choice, he was just not brave enough to make it.

When the Quarter Quell was announced Finnick thought he might be going insane. He had not slept all night, preferring to stare into the relentless ocean. It has calmed him before, but not this time. Finnick was sure that he isn't seeing this water again - Snow will have him in that damn arena, and the chances of getting out were even smaller than before.

It was like a fever dream - reaping, interviews, countless photoshoots. It felt bitter but, at the same time, very familiar. He did not have to bother to attract sponsors or build a good image for the Capitol - years of work before came in handy. Finnick was left with a week of existence before his death. Very generous.

A few visits to his most generous sponsors. An hour or two. A pretty smile here and a moan there. Nothing of the unusual kind. Some cried, and some assured they will be doing everything possible to get him back. If Finnick could, he would laugh right in their atrociously painted faces.

The last client for today. A huge hotel with hundreds of rooms, very acquainted to Finnick. Golden doors, luxurious lobby. Room 23, the door to the right. He knocked and opened it without bothering to wait.

''Missed me, fisher boy?'' Y/N and her luminous dress. Finnick quickly shortened the distance between them, embracing the woman in a hug. She smelled sweet, with a hint of sourness - probably the healing cream.

''You have no idea.''

She chuckled in his chest. Finnick thought that this is how he would like to go - in her arms. He quickly lost the idea when she started speaking.

''We have an hour, then he'll find out. I am so sorry about the Games, but I won't be able to help you. Derek can't stand even your face in the magazine. Such an insecure asshole he is.''

Y/N looked up at him, a storm of feelings in her eyes taking Finnick's breath away.  And then he did something he never thought he would - he kissed her.

It was thorough and shamelessly hearty, nothing like the usual kissing he has done. Hell, she was not even his client - she was the woman he loved, the woman that he so desperately wanted to be his. Finnick felt her tilting her head to the right, pulling away.

''Don't,'' he mumbled, bringing her closer.

''You know you don't have to do it, right? You owe me nothing, Finnick.''

''But I want to. I want you. If you'll have me.''

Finnick felt Y/N's hands on his neck, pulling him in for another, much rougher, almost bruising kiss. They have an hour.

-

Salty waves touched his feet, bringing a burning sensation to the cuts and blisters - they will heal faster that way. The hot daytime sun was finally setting, allowing a few moments of peace in the blood-soaked arena.

Mags was already dead - it was absurd to think she had a chance to survive, as much as Finnick wanted to believe that. He will mourn her if he ever gets out of here.

The one thing occupying his mind was the birds, jabberjays. Finnick couldn't allow himself to believe another lie - Y/N was probably dead or on the verge of dying. He hoped she had gone quickly and without much pain, although judging from her cries, it was far from that.

Even if she was still alive, the first thing when the rebellion breaks out will be her torture. Finnick had sacrificed her for the revolution, for the future. And still, the thought of her eyes haunted him at night. Y/N will be dead now or later; for supporting the rebellion or being on the other side of it, and he sentenced her.

Finnick hopes she forgives him. He wishes they had met in another life - Finnick can almost hear Y/N's cheerful laugh and her soft hands holding his face. ''I love you,'' she says, and for once, it sounds happy, not bitter.

He will do his task - Finnick will get the lovebirds out alive. But then, he will make her a nice grave. They will be together. Y/N wanted to see District 4, his home. It will be her home too.

-

The plan worked. Katniss was on the hovercraft. The rebellion has started. Finnick tried to focus on what Haymitch was telling although in vain. It felt real now, the deaths of people he loved. The Capitol took the ones left - Finnick wished he could call them dead.

The door to the room opened, and Plutarch spoke.

''Took you long enough. We were almost getting bored, you know?''

Finnick glanced at the man in irritation. How could he say that? The fire girl lost more in that arena than Heavensbee could imagine.

''Plutarch, I suppose being away from the Snow's grasp helped you lose your manners? I can still have your tongue, so don't get too comfortable."

Finnick's head shot up at the sound of a familiar voice. It couldn't be.

But, there she stood. Y/N. Without her extravagant clothes and vibrant makeup, in a simple grey jumpsuit, she looked much younger.

''Finnick, this is Y/N Y/L/N, although I believe you have met before.''

He did not listen. Finnick embraced the woman, feeling Y/N's hands gripping his torso. She was here. Alive. Breathing and muttering something in his ear. He did not detect it at first, so caught up in his emotions.

''Finn, I love you, but I can't breathe.''

Y/N let out a burst of shaky laughter as Finnick instantly let her go, feeling a slow smile growing on his face.

They made it.

#hunger games finnick #hunger games #thg #finnick x y/n #finnick odair #finnick x you #finnick x reader #hurt/comfort

[chronophobique]

Draco is Hermione’s +1 at her cousin’s wedding

— 653 words

“What are those Muggles so bloody excited about?”

Already on edge, Granger rolls her eyes. “Have you really never been to a wedding before?”

“Do I look like someone who gets invited to weddings?”

“I don’t know,” she replies in an exasperated tone as she downs her glass of champagne in one go. “I guess not.”

“Granger. You do know this is an expensive wine, right? You’re supposed to only sip enough of it to coat your tongue, then let it sit in your mouth for a moment to—”

The glare she gives him is so frank and familiar that the sight makes him forget whatever he’s talking about.

Fuck, he’d missed that.

“In the Muggle tradition, a bride is considered lucky,” she explains, her big brown eyes shining as they do every time she gets the chance to share her knowledge.

“So, to improve their own luck, guests try to grab something that belongs to her. Like her dress, her hair, or flowers.”

“Are they going to strip her once the ceremony is over? Because if I would be quite impressed, I don’t think I ever agreed to be the witness of such a—”

“No, you idiot,” she chuckles, and Draco can see in her gaze that she immediately regrets not having contained it the second the soft sound of her laughter floats in the thick air between them.

“She’s going to throw her bouquet randomly into the crowd,” she adds more seriously, her cheeks a redder colour. “And the person who will catch it will claim their luck in being the next to wed.”

“Hm, let me guess. You have no intention of catching this bouquet.”

“Indeed.”

“Because you have no desire to get married.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees her watching him for the briefest second. “No, because my feet already hurt in those heels, and jumping around would make them bleed.”

At her unexpected answer, hope blooms in his chest, warming his heart like a blanket.

He’d always thought she’d broken up with him because she had no interest in marriage. Or rather, in marrying him.

“Remind me what I’m doing at this wedding with you?”

“Draco,” she sighs. “You know exactly why you’re here, and I really need you to stop bringing it up. Please. It’s just for a day.”

“Ah, yes, because you’re still so in love with me that you forgot to tell your grandmother about our breakup. Right.”

“She has a fragile heart,” she snaps, lowering her voice when she notices the old lady in question looking in their direction with a big, bright smile on her face. “And I didn’t forget. You know how much she likes you, it’s not that easy to—”

“Admit it to your grandmother or to yourself?”

First, her eyes widen, and then she’s looking everywhere but at him. “You need to respect my decision—”

“I would, but I don’t see how I can when you didn’t even see fit to give me an explanation.”

She knows he’s right, and she can’t stand it. “I don’t want to talk about this here.”

“If you assure me that you no longer share my feelings, we won’t have to.”

An eternity seems to pass before she finally says, “You know I could never tell you that.”

“In that case…” he trails off, handing her his glass before smoothing out his suit jacket.

“What are you doing?”

“Showing your grandmother I didn’t come only for the petits fours.”

And just like that, he’s confidently making his way through the crowd of waiting Muggles, effortlessly catching the bouquet as it is tossed in the air before nonchalantly returning to his witch’s side.

“I’ll be expecting an invitation to your future wedding,” he whispers so that only she can hear as he takes his glass from her hand to place the bouquet in it. “And by that, I don’t mean as a guest.”

#dramione #dramione fanfic #dramione drabble #dhr fandom #hermione x draco #draco x hermione #harry potter #draco malfoy #hermione granger #chronophobiquedrabbles

[rizzyu]

▵▿— "Lonely lady, shall we dance?"

Pairing: Luca Kaneshiro x fem! Reader

Category: fluffffff

Warning: Alcohol

Summary: You were invited to your friend’s party. Feeling a bit intoxicated by the strong scent of alcohol, you decided to take a breather on the roof, and that was when a mysterious blond man found you there.

A/N: I had been thinking about a story like this with Luca in my mind, but never got the time to actually write it down. Since now that I have more spare time, I’ll be expressing more of these stories that I have thought of in my mind before POG!

“Y/N!!!” Your friend Scarle exclaimed before pouncing on you, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into a tight hug. “Took you long enough to arrive.” You chuckled, “Sorry Scarle, I got caught in traffic. Oh yeah, I got you this” you said before handing her the pretty gift bag you were holding. “AAAAAAAA Thank you s much darling! Come on in, come on in.” Scarle squealed in excitement before you proceeded to enter the venue. The venue was decorated lavishly, with red curtains framing the cornice of the enormous room. Everyone was dressed in fancy clothes, while Scarle wore a glossy red dress. You greeted some other old friends before setting down your items and taking off your trench coat, revealing the [whatever type of dress you want] you had on. You were standing around a tall marble table with a group of your friends. They were drinking wine, the melodic sound of wine glass and laughter echoed throughout the room. You were starting to feel a bit lightheaded by the strong stench of alcohol that penetrated the area, so you decided to take a breather outside. Being careful not to trip, you climbed the stairs leading to the roof of the building. From the roof, you could view the beautiful night scenery of the city. It was windy there, your hair and the hem of you dress got picked up and blew along with the wind. While you were mesmerized by the gorgeous scenery, you didn’t notice that someone else also came onto the roof, until you heard a voice of a man behind you. You quickly whipped your head around and faced the man, and all you can say is that he was the most handsome man you have ever seen. His hair was the colour of golden silk, and he bears the most dazzling lavender irises. He was dressed in a white and gold striped suit, with an onyx black shirt underneath. Two necklaces adorned his neck, and a large fur coat was draped over his shoulders. And to top it off, a white fedora on top of his pretty head. “Are you alright?” he asked with a slightly tilted head. You turned your head away, flustered “Huh? O-oh! Yea… I’m alright…” you were feeling a bit embarrassed getting caught staring. He chuckled at how cute you looked. “Isn’t it beautiful?” he said after walking to stand next to you, admiring the view of the city. You hummed in agreement, lightly leaning against the railing. “Are you lonely?” you turned your head to look at him after he asked. You hesitated for a moment, you did feel a bit lonely, especially after seeing so many couples at the party. “Yea, a bit.” You responded. He chuckled, before extending his gloved hand to you and said “Then, lonely lady, shall we dance?” You felt your eyes widen a bit, and you lips slightly left agape. You looked back and forth between his hand and his pretty smile. Oh how he smiled so brightly at you, you swore you could ascend to the heavens right then and there. You slowly reached your hand towards him, and placed it on top of his. Gently, he dragged you to the center of the roof, and pulled you close towards him. “May I?” he asked whether you are comfortable with him placing his hand on your waist like a gentleman that he is. You nodded, and while he gently placed a hand on your waist, you placed both of yours on his shoulder. The next thing you knew, you both were dancing the whole night away. “I’m Luca by the way, Luca Kaneshiro.” “I’m Y/N L/N, nice to meet you, Luca.” “That’s a pretty name, it really fits you.” You looked away a bit flustered, but Luca held your chin with his gloved hands, slowly turning your head to face him. He shot you a gentle smile that made you heart race. You never expected anything like this to happen to you, you never did. But right now you could not get any happier. “Y/N,” “Hmm?” “May I get your number?” You were more than happy to do so.

God damn this is a long one LMAOOO

#nijisanji x reader #nijisanjien x reader #nijisanji #nijisanjien #luxiem x reader #luxiem fluff #luxiem x reader fluff #luxiem #luca kaneshiro x reader #luca kaneshiro #yorutenshi riyugu #riyugu writing

[shadow-emerald-gold]

Two Sapphires (Aemond Targaryen x OFC)

Summary:  In an attempt to bring to an end the tensions within his family, King Viserys betrothed his son, Prince Aemond, to his daughter's second eldest, Princess Maenys, after the events at Driftmark. It has been six years and the prince and princess now must navigate their love in the court of dragons.

This work will be updated on A03.

Word Count: 2,054

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42486228/chapters/106707981

Aemond walked through the garden of the Red Keep, a small platter of cheese, bread and fruit in hand. It was a wonderful day. A light breeze from Blackwater Bay swayed the trees and there was not a single cloud in the sky. Perfect weather for flying. The noblemen and women of the court took advantage of the day in their own way, enjoying the delights of the garden. Even the servants and guards seemed lax. Many nodded to him as he passed by, a quick greeting as the prince was not here to idle amongst the flowers. The sound of light chatter and laughing caught his attention, a minstrel softly playing his lute as a group of ladies sat together. Cold wine was being poured from ornate jugs and swallowed quickly, a moment of relief from the heat despite also sitting in the shade. Some made flower chains and others worked on their embroidery. Aemond likened it to the pretty scenes that many bards sing of and center to it all was his betrothed. The women fussed, gossiped and quipped as Maenys spoke of a new dress. When they noticed the prince approaching their little slice of paradise, the women stood and bowed, greeting him. “Ladies,” Aemond nodded, “I see we are enjoying ourselves today.” “Days like this are to be appreciated, my prince,” a noblewoman replied with a grin, “you are welcome to join us. I am sure the princess would love your company.” Maenys set aside her drink and papers and placed her hands in her lap. The prince let out a short sigh, feigning disappointment. “I would want nothing more, but I was hoping to speak to the princess alone.” The ladies whined, causing the prince to apologies in jest, as they stood and gathered their belongings. One pulled the fabric from their hoop and passed it to the princess- a gift. Maenys watched as her company left her, taking the minstrel with them before turning her attention back to Aemond. He stood out like a dragon amongst sheep, draped in black leather with a stern look. Though, she reckoned, her prince had no need to suit flowers or pretty colours like she had to. “I missed you this morning,” he spoke gently. “I did not feel like eating,” Maenys answered, fiddling with a gold ring on her finger. Aemond stepped forward, holding the plate out to her, “A dragon must eat.” She let out a sigh of defeat, taking the plate from his hands. He sat down next to her, noting the papers by her side. There was silence once more as she began to eat. “What is on your mind?” Aemond asked quickly. Maenys shook her head, tearing apart the bread, “It is nothing.” “Has she not written back to you?” There was a pause. The gentle waves of the bay crashed on the rocks, birds chirped and Maenys quickly wiped a tear from her cheek. She nodded. “This long without a word to her own daughter.” “My mother must be busy with raising Aegon and Viserys. Not to mention that she must oversee Jace’s upbringing for him to be king. How easy it must be for her to be distracted from replying to me,” she reasoned, “or perhaps my letters do not even make it to her.” “Regardless, she should still write to you,” Aemond took her hand, “you are still her daughter.” Maenys hummed, turning to look out over the bay. Dragonstone was only a flight away and yet it felt as though it was the furthest point in the world. She wished she could share days like this with her mother. She wished she could tell them about it. How, despite the feud between their family, she is happy here but that may be the last thing her mother wants to know. “It is either she forgets, or she despises me. I do not like to entertain the latter, Aemond.” “Then worry your mind no longer with this. You have a life here, a life with me, and if she is bitter for it, let her brew in it. You are happy are you not?” “Of course, I am.” He bought her hand to his lips, shushing her as she fretted about others seeing. They are still only betrothed and such an openly affectionate act would be sure to spread rumors. Aemond cared little for them, but Maenys was the one that had to sit in the company of the noblewomen at the end of the day. The prince figured that it had been six long years of betrothal and if, at this point, he could not at least kiss the hands of his beloved then what was the point of love. “I spoke to mother again yesterday about when we are to be wed,” he smiled, “she said she would speak to father. She agrees that it has been long enough.” “I will be surprised if the king changes his mind.” “If he does not, then I will steal you away to Volantis and we shall be wed there,” he answered in Valyrian. Maenys shook her head with smile with little awareness of how serious Aemond was in his heart. “And we will be king and queen of the sky over Old Valyria?” she mused. “If that is how it must be.” “Forgive me, Aemond, but you speak too often of duty both to your family and the throne.” “When you are my wife, my duty will be to you.” She stuttered before both watched as a servant boy approached, sweating and out of breath. Aemond was unimpressed as Maenys passed the boy a cup of wine which he gulped down without a thank you. “Where have you run from? Casterly Rock?” she quipped. “A message for the princess,” the boy panted, “the dragonkeepers urgently request your presence at the Dragonpit.” Maenys frowned, giving the boy another cup and nodded. “Very well. Will the prince escort me?” “Meet me at the gate. It will be quicker if we ride.” Aemond marched off, his shoulders rigid and pace quick. Maenys looked down at her dress and instructed the boy to run ahead and tell her handmaidens that she will need to change into something more fitting for a dragonrider.

The horse galloped through the streets, the commonfolk dashing out of the way and yelling curses at the two riders. Maenys held on as Aemond whipped the reigns. He had forgotten how slow horses felt in comparison to Vhagar. Shortly, they were at the grand doors of the Dragonpit, the prince helping his betrothed from saddle horse. As they were ushered inside, the low grumble of a dragon rattled the structure. From the entrance to the cells bellow, three dragonkeepers fled covered in dirt and sweat. “What is going on?” Maenys questioned, “what has happened?” “It is Bloodbone, princess. He will not serve,” an elder spoke, “we had gone to feed him, and he snapped three of his chains. We have already lost five of us to him.” She swallowed looking at the panicked dragonkeepers, the younger ones frightened and shaking. Another roar filled the pit as Maenys turned to the stone stairs. There was a flash of orange and red light. It was not the first time Bloodbone had threatened the destruction of the pit. In fact, it had become a rather common occurrence of late, but the dragon had not been so ruthless as to eat any of the keepers. Aemond listened to the low grumbling, standing behind Maenys. “I wish to rediscuss Bloodbone living outside of the pit,” she began. “Princess, it is by order of the king-.” “Bloodbone was born and raised on Dragonstone where he was allowed to do as he pleased. He is bored chained up in the pit. He wants to hunt.” “You know very well why he is not allowed to roam.” “He was never given the time to adjust to living here.” “The farmers do not have that time to give,” another keeper spoke, “do you mean to cause a famine just so your dragon can entertain himself, princess.” Maenys bit her tongue. Bloodbone roared once more. “You will mind your tone when speaking to the princess, keeper,” Aemond warned. They lowered their head as they gripped their wooden staff tightly. Everyone watched as Maenys slowly walked to the stairs and breathed in. There was a distinct smell of smoke. She descended. Sometimes she wondered if this was cruel and selfish of her, to keep him where he must be locked away. Bloodbone is indeed of Dragonstone, rumored to be a brother perhaps of the Cannibal. They did share a great viciousness and even the dragonkeepers there attempted to persuade her to claim another. Maenys, going on nine years, refused. She called out to him sweetly through the tunnels. The thrums of her Valyrian blood began to boil as those mighty roars turned into lowly squeals for her attention. She followed them until she was in front of her closest friend. About the dragon’s body were bloodied, shredded keepers. Their flesh unburnt, just as he preferred to devour them. Bloodbone pulled against his remaining chain, bolted to his neck as he attempted to spread his wings. “Lykiri, Bloodbone. Lykiri,” she raised a hand, gently placing it on his snout. She noted that the pit had become too small for him, and the remaining chain was pulled too tight. “Forgive me,” Maenys whispered, “forgive me, old friend.” The dragon grumbled, a rolling of fire and flesh in his stomach as she looked him in the eye. A deep red reflection of her gazed back, sorrowful and hurt. “Your place is not here. You are not born for the pit.” Reaching up, she unhooked the final chain from the bolt, and it clattered to the ground. Bloodbone tossed his head appreciatively. Whether the dragonkeepers agreed or not, he had to fly free. Even if the king demanded that he be returned to the pit, Maenys would sooner ride away on Bloodbone than bring him back. The dragon trailed behind her back through the tunnels. As she reemerged, the keepers stepped away in fear, eyes locked to the dragon. Aemond grinned. “He has outgrown the pit. He can barely spread his wings,” Maenys spoke firmly, “why was I not told this? Vhagar is allowed her freedom.” “Princess, his appetites make him too dangerous for the world.” “So that is a reason to imprison him? He prefers to hunt. Once he realizes that the cattle cannot flee, he will leave them be, but I refuse to keep him in here another day.” The keeper shook his head and commanded for the doors to be opened. Fresh air blew into the pit as Bloodbone moved forward, beckoned by the warm sun, as his rider followed beside him. “If any farmers come forward with complaints, tell them that I will reimburse for what was eaten.” The keepers nodded, “of course, princess.” In the light, the tinges of red on Bloodbone’s pale grey scales shimmered like rubies. He stretched his crimson wings and body, thin and lithe. The dragon was happy to feel the sun once more. “Do you think he will leave the cattle alone?” Aemond chimed, grabbing the reigns of his horse. “That is why I am hoping Vhagar will be a good mentor. Teach him what he can and cannot hunt. Is she nearby?” “Always.” “I was thinking of going for a flight around the Kingswood. Stretch our wings. Would you care to join us?” The prince looked down at his boots sadly. “Unfortunately, I cannot. I promised Aegon I would train with him this afternoon.” Quickly, he placed a hand on her cheek and kissed her forehead. “You are choosing your brother’s company over mine?” Aemond climbed up into the saddle, “It is a way for me to keep an eye on him. Though, I will request you join me for dinner tonight. I want to see you in the new dress you were telling your friends about.” The prince left his betrothed with the flash of a teasing grin and Maenys felt her cheeks heat up. In that moment, she hoped the king will agree to their marriage at last, whether her mother wanted to be there or not.

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x oc #Aemond x Reader #aemond #hotd #house of the dragon #house targaryen #house hightower #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader

[lady-rose-moon]

My darling || Loki x Reader || 18+ ||

Just a small thing to split up The Selection's posts!

Masterlist

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Warnings: smut, dirty talk

Summary: you knew you had fucked up, you knew it and you enjoyed it

The glare you received from across the room was exhilarating. Your thighs squeezed together as you felt the intensity of the glaring increase tenfold as your attention became minimally engaged in conversation with a man to your left. The gaze from across the room travelled from your breasts which were practically free of all restrictions to the cocktail dress you were wearing. Wrong colour. Red. Green was what you were supposed to wear.

As you laughed along with the man to your left, you felt the air change. It became thick with what you knew was increased jealousy looming over the faceless people dancing around at the party. You smiled despite the change and lifted your drink to your lips, dragging out the motion of drinking it like a shot for the glaring person's annoyance.

"So where does a pre'y lady like yeself come from?" the man to your right asked, his voice slurred with alcohol as he nursed a martini in his hand, "ye sure as 'ell don' look like yer from 'ere!"

"Up north!" you called over the music, throwing your head back and taking a shot, your legs unfolding for a brief moment but you sensed the crack of irritation from across the room, "what about yourself?"

"From righ' here, missy!" the man replied with an easy smirk, "NYC born an' rais'd, me!"

You released a noncommittal 'ah' before ordering another drink and smiling flirtatiously at the barman. Just then, a gentle hand slipped around your waist and you were half convinced that it was the drunken man but that was firmly disproved when you looked up and saw your boyfriend; Loki.

You took a sip of your drink, your eyes firmly locked on the sharp jawline of the man holding you and how its clenching signalled to you that you were in trouble but you loved it. His emerald eyes dropped to meet yours once his hand was curled around a glass of wine.

"What do you think you're doing, pet?" Loki growled, his voice sultry and angered. His eyes drove into yours, seeing into your very soul as if you were just someone in the chair and he had access to all of your thoughts and feelings, your deepest desires. "I thought you were mine?"

You squared your shoulders, raising your chin, challenging the God. "I am allowed to have fun, Loki. Are you preventing me from having fun?" you asked, a satisfied smirk rising to your lips when you saw that he was slightly surprised.

"Of course not, pet," Loki replied easily, languidly taking a sip of his wine before meeting your eyes again, "I simply do not admire the one I am courting to be eyeing up other men as if they are worth more than the God they are senselessly fucked by each night."

A deep blush rose to your cheek and you took another sip of your liquid courage, biting your lip as you stared up into his eyes. Your heart was thumping in your chest and you hoped that Loki only considered it to be the thunderous beats of the music.

"I am merely having fun, Loki," you responded moments later, one of your fingers trailing up Loki's arm and resting on his tie over his all-black suit.

"I'll show you true fun, you slut," Loki growled, leaning in to nip at your neck before grabbing your hand and dragging you away from the party, into the hallway and around a corner, where the thump thump of the music was still prominent but no-one lingered.

Once assured you were alone, Loki crashed his lips to yours and began to tug down your panties, his need for you overcoming any of his usual spectacle of foreplay. His slender fingers made contact with your clit and you whined, rolling your fingers desperately against his fingers to try and get any friction from his touch.

"Lokiii," you whimpered, eyebrows pulled together and need building up in your core as your pussy became wetter from the stimulation of Loki's talented fingers.

Loki glared at you, nipping at your neck as he unzipped his fly and nudged his cock against your throbbing cunt. "So wet," he growled, his breath fanning over the sensitive skin of your neck, "is that for me or for the man back there that you deemed to surpass me?"

"Only for you," you called with a pathetic whine, your hips reaching forward in an attempt to lure Loki into sinking his cock inside you and satisfying your lust for him.

His eyes bore into yours before his lips attached to yours again, the clack of teeth against teeth indicating that this was not a sensual, cherished fuck; it was a fuck that Loki was going to give you to show you who you belong to, you knew this as Loki's hardened length finally slid into your desperate channel.

You released a moan and rolled your head back against the wall as you enjoyed the weight of Loki's cock inside you. He was so hot and you needed this fuck, you needed this reminder that you belonged to him. It aroused you to see him so protective of you.

As Loki began to move, you smirked at the relieved exhale that the God released. You admired him for his power to reduce you to a puddle but you knew that you did the same for him just the same. "Y/N," he moaned, one of his hands grabbing your leg and throwing it around his waist, sinking deeper into your channel as he did, "faen, you have no idea, kjaere, no idea how much I wished to fuck you in front of that cunt who thought about taking you back to his room."

"Wouldn' have gone," you moaned, your mind only half-listening to what Loki was saying as his cock pumped in and out of your desperate pussy, "wouldda stayed with you!"

Loki cooed and cupped your cheek with his free hand, his hips slapping against your own more violently and his smirk only widened at the blissful moan you released at the feeling. "Look at you," he whispered, the sound of skin on skin and the rustle of his clothes being the only thing heard in the hallway, "you're barely even listening to me."

"Listenin'," you moaned, your brows pulled together as that blissful end began to make itself known over the horizon of pleasure, "pr'mise!"

Loki chuckled and leaned forward again, peppering kisses down your neck and nipping your skin occasionally as he moaned in bliss at the squeeze of your cunt around his cock. His free hand dropped from your cheek and began to violently circle your clit, his eyes returning to boring into your soul, "you will cum when I tell you to."

"Yes," you whispered obediently, your hands raking down Loki's back as you moaned and enjoyed the pleasure of ramming his cock inside you, "will, pr'mise!"

The orgasm you knew was coming had to be help off until Loki said so but you knew that would be impossible with the thrill of Loki's cock now ramming into your g-spot, making you see stars and ripping so many loud moans from your mouth that Loki was half tempted to use his magic to take away your voice so as to not alert the guests but as he reached his own end, he found that he did not care.

"Who do you belong to?" he demanded, thrusting deep into you and his fingers swiping powerful circles around your clit.

"You," you whimpered.

"I couldn't hear you, pet," Loki growled, his teeth nippng your ear and tugging the skin.

"You!"

"Louder!"

"You, Loki, youuu!" you cried, trying so hard to prevent your orgasm from hitting at the dominance your boyfriend was giving off.

"Cum, darling," the man sneered and you needn't be told again as your orgasm ripped through you and you released a loud moan, stars appearing across your vision as you reached your high and revelled in it, distantly hearing Loki groan and release inside you before moaning, "That's my girl."

As soon as you came down from your high, you realised that Loki was sat on the floor with you peacefully in his lap. His seed was dripping out of your spent hole and you made to sit up but Loki prevented you, shaking his head and whispering 'stay a moment'. In that moment, your red dress shimmered and sunk into an emerald green. Satisfied, Loki sat up straighter and kissed your neck as he whispered, "perfect."

Your stomach fluttered and you moaned, running your fingers through his curly hair with a fucked-out smile. "Love you," you whispered, resting your head against his shoulder.

With a smile, Loki caressed your back and whispered, "I love you too, sweet flower."

You distantly remember, under the haze of alcohol and the impending headache, how Loki stood then and carried you back to his room, party and man at the bar blissfully forgotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Main tags:

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @evelyn-kingsley @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65 @lonadane @silverfire475 @chantsdemarins @iamsherlocked1479 @kittiowolf210 @just-someone11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

#loki laufeyson #tom hiddleston #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki x reader fluff #loki smut #loki laufeyson x reader #hot loki #mcu loki #tom hiddleston character x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki x yn #loki imagine #loki oneshot #loki series #loki x you #loki (marvel) #loki

[genz420]

The Fire That Burns Within Us - Prologue

Next Part 

When princess Rhaenyra gave birth to her first son, Jacearys, rumours filled the court about who he bore a likeness to, Ser Harwin Strong and not Ser Laenor Velaryon.  Almost everyone in the Red Keep knew of the company that Ser Laenor kept.  Who warmed his bed at night.  That person was not his lady wife, Rhaenyra.   The night of their wedding was the first night the Princess and Ser Harwin had their first real conversation.  A relationship formed between the two and when the Princess gave Ser Harwin the chance to warm her bed he gladly took the opportunity.   

But when the princess gave birth to her second child, a daughter, no one questioned who the father was.  The babe had a tuff of white-silver curls, her skin was pale as her mother, and dark purple eyes that had the same colour as wine that the house Redwyne kept in their cellar.  When the king was first introduced to his first granddaughter, he proclaimed that the fire of house Targaryen burned strong within her, that she would be a warrior and that her name should suit the future she would have.   The queen was not as pleased with the newborn; unlike the firstborn, the child had Velaryon features, and even if she could convince the people of the court that Jacearys was a bastard, this child's lineage could not be questioned.   The love that the king showed the child worried the queen; she had not seen such happiness and love in his eyes since the death of the late queen Aemma, not when their sons were born or even their daughters.  Just like Princess Rhaenyra, the child would have the love and blind eye of the king to do as they pleased. 

With approval from the king, Rhaenyra and Laenor picked the name Visenya.  

When Jacearys was 2 and Visenya 1, their mother welcomed her second son, Lucerys.  At that time, Visenya's dragon egg had hatched a male black dragon with ebony-purple markings on his chest, wings, and back.  When the dragon had hatched, Visenya hadn’t been old enough to pick a name for the hatchling, so the king had chosen the name Morghon. 

As the children of house Valaryon and Targaryen grew the bond between the two great houses, some Lords and Ladies even thought the tense environment might end with the new generation.  Aegon would help his brother Aemond and his nephew Jacearys with their sword fighting when the queen was not there to scold him for giving weapons to them to play with.  Helaena and Visenya would watch the three boys pretend to be soldiers fighting while Helaena would braid Visenya's hair with flowers and talk about the dreams she had been having.  Even though Visenya loved it when her aunt would braid her hair, she wanted to play swords with her brother and uncles, to tell them how their poster was wrong, how the way they were holding the swords was improper, or how they should be protecting their faces and stomachs.  The one time she had brought up her critiques, her oldest uncle Aegon had told her to shut up and go back to reading the stupid storybook that was sitting on her lap.   Jacearys wanting his uncle to like him more agreed.  But Aemond saw the hurt on her face and that night was the first one the two practiced their sword fighting skills together.  The next day Visenya told her father and the family's close friend Ser Harwin Strong that she wished to be taught how to fight with a sword, that one day she would be the greatest swordsman in all of the seven kingdoms and ride into battle on her dragon back.  That when people heard her name they would put up white flags and hand over all of their gold so that she could give it to the crown.  At that moment it was clear to both men who child she really was, she was not Ser Laenors or Ser Harwin but a certain prince. 

As the Visenya grew, she spent time with her father, learning the tongue of the ancestors; the language of high Valyrian came quickly to the girl, and unlike her older brother, she was able to speak and understand the language at a young age.  The bond between the two was far closer than Ser Laenor had with any of his “Children” and even though he questions whose daughter she really was he loved her like she was his own.   Ser Laenor would often sneak Visenya out of the castle at night to go on dragon rides at night, he knew that while Rhaenyra would have no problem with this Visneya loved the idea of doing something that she thought was breaking the rules.  They would race between King Landing and Driftmark, oftentimes trying to rile Meleys up, when Princess Rhaenys found out what her son and granddaughter were doing she would join the two of them.  

Life was simple for Visenya.  She would spend the early hours of the morning with her father learning about the history of her houses.  Then she would have breakfast with her mother, brothers, and Ser Harwin Strong.  The later parts of the morning would be spent with Helaena and their septa learning about how ladies of their status should act.  Then lunch with the king as he would show her different parts of the model of Valyria.  The afternoon was spent with Aemond and finding a place to practice their sword fighting skills, in which Visenya had become much better in.  Sometimes the two of them would not even practice but talk about the things they were feeling, for Aemond it was often how he felt less of a Targaryen because he didn’t have a dragon and for Visenya how much she hated the duties of being a lady.  The two of them would often run around the grounds of the castle till the Queen or Princess came to find them. The night was spent with her father again, telling her stories or even taking her out for a dragon ride.   

Visenya was happy with her life, happy that she was getting another sibling soon, happy that she was spending time with Aemond, and happy that her family, while they did not always get along, were together.  Unknown to all, except for Helaena, the peace the family has had for the past ten years was about to change because of the death of Lady Laena. 

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond Targaryen x velaryon oc #daughter of Rhaenyra

[snakeskins-world]

I saw that you opened your requests and I had to come and write something. I thought of this one day and it does not get out of my head, Clarissa and lesso, in their office, dancing tale as old as time from beauty and the beast.

This took a little long to post due to a sickness i got, but I was determined to post it.

Hope you enjoy!!!

A tale as old as time

(Play the song if you want, or use your imagination)

It was the Annual Evers Ball. This year, the theme was Fairytales. Every single Ever came in with a detailed dress or suit, based on the fairytale they chose. This year, the nevers joined. So, naturally, they came as the villains from the fairytales.

The ball was elegant, the fairies flew around the room, the wolf guards had been forced by the good teachers to wear suits.

The good staff were all mingling with each other. Anemone was drinking some wine. Yuba was dancing (the students avoided him). Pollux was dancing as well, drunk. Castor was sat by the wall, scowling. Princess Uma was talking with the birds on the window.

Lady Lesso stood by the wall. She wasn't a fan of dances, let alone big events like this, but as the schools were now merged, she had to attend. She scanned the hall as she noticed that Dovey hadn't attended.

"Where is that, goody two shoes?" She thought, before walking over to Anemone. The students moved out the way as the evil Dean walked through the dance floor.

"Red." Anemome greeted the evil dean. Not looking up from her wine.

"Where's Clarissa?" Lady Lesso asked, her tone saying she didn't want any snarky comments or comebacks tonight.

"Why are you so concerned?" Anemone replied, standing up and crossing her arms.

"Where.is.she?" Lady Lesso asked, her grip tightened on her cane.

"In her room. She didnt feel well." Anemone walked away, going to get more wine.

"Unwell?" Lady lesso thought. She had a feeling something wasn't right. And she needed an excuse to leave this horrid room anyway.

She walked out, going to find the Good Dean.

_____________________________________________

Several hours prior

Dovey sat in her office. It was the evers ball tonight. She felt sad. She had never gotten a fairytale. Why she chose this theme was beyond her. She sighed, slumping in her chair, she didn't want to go tonight. But it was her job as Dean.

"Clarissa, is everything ok?"

She looked up, Anemone stood by her door.

"I'm feeling a little under the weather," Dovey lied. She might be able to get out of going to the ball tonight.

"Oh?" Anemone walked forward and pressed her hand to the Dean's forhead. "You dont have a fever" She said, confused and suspicious.

The dean froze.. then she started coughing. Anemone stepped back. Before getting a glass of water. She gave it to Dovey.

"Right. Stay in your room tonight." Anemone said. "I'll send some fairies to watch over you, ok?" She asked worriedly.

"Thank you, Anemone," Dovey replied quietly, she watched her friend leave.

____________________________________________

Current time

Lady Lesso walked down the dim halls of the Good School, making her way up to the deans office. She was using her own school for reference, hoping the layout was the same. She climbed the stairs. She ignored the pain in her knee as she climbed several flights of stairs.

"This school needs fewer stairs." She mumbled as she reached the top floor. She emerged from the staircase, she walked down to the large double doors at the end of the hall. The windows letting in moonlight, illuminating the brightly coloured halls.

"Clarissa?" Lady lesso knocked on the door. She waited for a response. After a few seconds

"Come in." It was quiet, but definitely Dovey.

Lady Lesso opened the door and entered. She saw Dovey stood by the window, watching the river.

"You didn't go to the party." Lady Lesso said plainly.

"I was sick." Dovey replied

"No. You didn't want to go." Lady lesso walked forward "why?"

Dovey just looked at her, before returning her gaze to the river, she sighed.

"How did you feel...when you didn't get chosen to be the villain? For a fairytale?" She asked Lady Lesso

The evil dean was taken aback by the sudden question but quickly recovered

"Disappointed" She said "I wasn't good enough for it" she then looked to Dovey.

"I wanted a fairytale...when I was at school" Dovey said quietly

"But, I only ever helped people in theirs...I watched them get their happy endings. And I...I just envy the students, they have chances I don't." She whispered.

"Ah. I see" Lady Lesso murmured. She didnt know why, but she felt a sudden need to help the good dean.

Lady Lesso snapped her fingers, using her fingerglow, the music instruments in the deans room started playing, making Dovey look up.

Lady Lesso took a breath and held her hand to Dovey. "Will you take me in this dance?"

Dovey was shocked. But she smiled softly and took the evil deans hand. She was shocked as Lady Lesso pulled her close. The evil dean took her hand and put it on her shoulder, putting both hands on Clarissa's waist.

"This...this is Belle's song." Dovey looked to the instruments. Before suddenly the evil dean started to dance with her.

Dovey rested her head against, Lesso's chest as they danced. Lady Lesso let her, a little shocked and flustered, but she'd never admit it.

"You deserve a dance." Lady Lesso whispered as she slowly spun round with the dean, trying her best to mimic the dance she saw some of the Good students do. She stumbled slightly.

Dovey chuckled softly, the music matched perfectly. She danced till she knew the music was reaching its end. She looked at Lady Lesso and then stood on her tip toes and kissed her softly.

Lady Lesso stood there, shocked.

"Thank you. For tonight" She whispered, then let go.

A tale as old as time. Good and evil, opposite sides crave eachother, but refuse to admit.

#lady lesso #s.g.e #school for good and evil #lesso #clarissa dovey #dovey #emma anemone #dovesso #leonora lesso #anemone

[impactofthegenshin]

Meeting at the Masquerade

characters: Diluc reader: fem!reader warnings: none word count: 818  a/n: i wrote only one character to warm up, tho i do plan on writing for the others too. too lazy to proofread, look out for any typos. 

Diluc 

You felt out of place at the ball. Being a lady entailed you to attend parties you didn’t like attending, but you did it for the sake of the family name. Your parents ushered you to every ball in the city, hoping you’d bump into a handsome suitor in one of them. 

You cast a glance around the wide ballroom, seeing not handsome men or beautiful women but bejewelled, colourful masks. Right. You were attending a masquerade at the Dawn Winery, in honor of the owner, Diluc Ragnvindr’s birthday. You hadn't seen him all night, though you'd tried to find him. Not in hopes of catching his eye, oh no. You knew the Ragnvindr heir was famous for rejecting any who came to him, men and women alike. You simply wanted to thank him for the invitation. But his red mane was nowhere to be seen.  

Tugging at the fox mask that fit rather snugly onto your face, your mouth formed a thin line. The invitation to the ball had reached your doorstep last week, sending your mother into a frenzy of dresses and jewels for the past 7 days. The crimson ball gown you wore, now fluttered behind you as you explored the ballroom in hopes of finding a familiar face.

But wherever you looked, you were greeted with glassy eyes behind masks. Of course, the Dawn Winery would not have a party without, well, wine. It disgusted you to no end but you could not leave the party before the birthday toast. Your shoulders were beginning to slump as you wandered alone, wine glass in hand.

You raised your glass to your lips, tasting the wine for the first time that night when it splashed all over your face and dress. You gaped at the glass, wondering what you'd done to anger it when someone offered you a handkerchief. 

“I’m so sorry I did not see you there. I apologise for ruining your dress.” You looked up at the man who spoke, his piercing red eyes clear behind his owl mask despite the wine being served. You hadn’t realised he’d bumped into you, instead blaming the glass for somehow being sentient. 

“It’s quite alright. I wasn’t really fond of the dress anyways.” The man grimaces as he estimates the cost of the dress, his scarlet ponytail swishing to the side. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not much for dresses and riches. My family is well off to have several of these dresses ruined and not a percent of their coffers wasted.”  

The man raised his brows, perturbed by your nonchalance to the wealth. Clearing your throat, you took a good look at him. He looked to be of nobility with his crisp suit and star studded mask. The owl plumes gracefully framed his face, the red stones standing out and bringing his sharp gaze to attention. Your hands itched to remove the cover, to see the man beneath.

You had to admit he was rather handsome, even with the mask on. Your palms suddenly turned clammy and your mind kept drifting to the ugly wine stain on your dress. Feeling self conscious, you asked him something before he had the chance to open his mouth, “Have you seen Diluc Ragnvindr by any chance tonight? I’ve been meaning to thank him for the invitation he sent.”  

The question had clearly thrown him off, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on land. Puzzled, you thanked him for his handkerchief and went your way. Looking back, you realise you didn’t even know his name. Cursing your foolishness, you wondered if you’d ever come across the handsome stranger again. Without the mask, preferably. 

A few days had passed since the ball at the Dawn Winery. Not wanting to stay in the sticky ballgown for the entire night, you had made an excuse to Adelinde before departing. You didn’t catch hold of Diluc after that and shrugged away the thought. That was before your maid brought a pretty little package to your room. You asked who it was from and she handed you a note.

You opened the wrapped box, dumbfounded to find a gown of the lightest purple, studded with pearls around the bodice. The sleeves were long but gauzy, loose and flowy around the wrist. It would have cost a disgusting amount of mora, but somehow you did not mind the price this time.

You quickly turned over the envelope, ripping open the cover and reading the elegant handwriting. 

Dear y/n,

I apologise for spilling wine on your dress and ruining it during my birthday ball. The crimson colour rather dulled your appearance, I wouldn’t say I’m really sorry. I hope this colour suits you better, I had to ask Adelinde what would look good on you. Visit Angel’s Share anytime and ask for me. I look forward to meeting you again and talking. 

Diluc Ragnvindr

#genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin mihoyo #writing #genshin x reader #genshin diluc #genshin drabbles #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc fluff #fluff #genshin fic #genshin zhongli #genshin xiao #genshin childe #genshin lumine #female reader