#And worries that he's disappointed his father with his choices
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Matt & Me🎀
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a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.
fem! reader x singer! matt
disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.
warnings - age gap,, sexual references
y/nn = your nickname for anyone confused🩷
Chapter 5
For the next two days I locked myself in my room, unable to eat, unable to sleep. Finally my mother said, “This isn’t going to help. Moping around here isn’t going to bring him back. He’s gone. He’ll be getting into his new life, and so should you.”
I forced myself to go to school and found myself swamped by photographers and reporters who were calling me “the girl he left behind” and barraging me with questions.
“How old are you, Miss y/ln?”
“I’m, uh—”
“Your records show you’re only in the ninth grade.”
“Well, ah, yes, that—”
“How long have you known Mr. Sturniolo?”
“About . . . just a few months.”
“What is your relationship with him?”
“We’re . . . just friends.”
“Has he called you since he returned?”
“No, but—”
“Did you know he’s seeing Madison Beer?”
“What?”
“Madison Beer.”
Suddenly feeling sick, I excused myself and left.
Each day there were calls from the United States, with offers of first-class round-trip tickets for me to appear on TV. I declined these as well as offers from top European magazines requesting interviews and photo sessions. Letters poured in from lonesome GIs all over the world. I had attracted their attention, perhaps as a soldier’s sweetheart. I also received letters from Matt’s fans, some friendly and some disheartened that maybe they had lost him.
Days passed into weeks and I became more and more resigned to the fact that Matt was now dating Madison Beer and had completely forgotten me. Twenty-one days after he left, the phone rang at three o’clock in the morning. I jumped out of bed, ran to answer it, and heard his wonderful voice.
“Hi, Baby. How’s my Little Girl?”
“Oh, Matt, I’m fine,” I said. “Only I miss you so. I thought you had forgotten me. Everyone was saying you would.”
“I told you I’d call, y/nn,” he assured me.
“I know, Matt, but there were photographers here and reporters and they kept asking me questions, and—oh, Matt, is it true you’re seeing Madison Beer?”
“Hold it. Hold it! Slow down,” he said, laughing. “No it’s not true that I’m seeing Madison Beer.”
“But they said you were.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear, Little Girl. You’ll find people trying to stir up trouble, just to make you upset. She’s a friend, Baby, just a friend. I’m appearing on her father’s show, and it was all set up for her to be here at my press conference when I returned to the States. I miss you, Baby. I think about you all the time.”
After that first phone call, I spent all my time writing and rewriting letters to him, but he never wrote back. Then one day he called, sounding very excited.
“I’m leaving for California in two days, Baby. I’m starting my first movie since the Army.”
All I could think about was whether he’d fall in love with his costar. As casually as I could, I asked, “Who’s your leading lady?”
Matt burst out laughing. “You don’t have to worry, Baby, I haven’t met her yet, but I hear she’s real tall. Her name’s Juliet Prowse. She’s a dancer and she’s engaged to Frank Sinatra.”
Relieved, I asked, “What’s the name of the film?”
“Wouldn’t you know it,” he answered, “G.I. Blues. I think it’ll be pretty good. I’m a little concerned that there are too many songs in it, but I think it’ll work out. It had better, or I’ll have a few choice words to say.”
A few weeks later Matt called again. His enthusiasm for G.I. Blues had turned to bitter disappointment.
“I just finished looping the goddamn picture,” he said dejectedly. “And I hate it. They have about twelve songs in it that aren’t worth a cat’s ass,” he said angrily, and then added, “I just had a meeting with Colonel William about it. I want half of them out. I feel like a goddamn idiot breaking into a song while I’m talking to some chick on a train.”
“Well, what’d the Colonel say?” I asked.
“Hell, what could he say? I’m locked into this thing. Already been paid,” he complained. “They seemed to think it’s wonderful. I’m goddamn miserable.”
“Maybe the next one will be better,” I said.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, starting to calm down. “The Colonel’s requested better scripts. It’s just this is my first film since I’ve been back and it’s a joke.” There was a long pause as static filled the line. Finally Matt said, “I gotta go, y/nn, and I can barely hear you. I’ll call you soon, be good, I love you.”
I was living in a state of suspended life, waiting for Matt’s infrequent calls. There was never a pattern to them. He would phone out of the blue after three weeks—or three months. He always did most of the talking, chatting about his current film or his costar. Occasionally, he’d talk about Nicole, saying their relationship wasn’t what he had expected when he returned from the Army. He was no longer sure he wanted to be with her. I didn’t know where I stood. Time and distance had created doubts and questions; I wanted to ask him, “Where do I fit in your life? Or do I?”
Matt was still mentioning that he really wanted me to see Graceland, especially at Christmas, when it was its most beautiful. He said I’d meet Pauline, the maid. Matt called her Pauline VO5. He laughed and said, “I’ll tell her, ‘O Five, I’ve got a little girl I want you to meet.”
This gave me some hope of a future. I wanted to believe him when he said he still cared for me. But during the periods when I did not hear from him, I couldn’t help but doubt that I would ever see him again. I heard his latest hit record, “(Marie’s the Name) His Latest Flame,” and felt sure that he’d fallen in love with a girl named Marie.
That summer, Paul Anka was on a European tour. He was to make a guest appearance at a nearby Air Force facility in Wiesbaden. I slyly arranged for my mother to drop me off at the time specified for his arrival. My intentions, unknown to her, were highly contrived and they had to do, strictly, with Matt. I wanted to ask him if by chance he knew Matt and if Matt had ever mentioned me. But when he got out of his car he was surrounded by fans, and I was too shy to push through the crowd to speak to him.
I gleaned every bit of news about Matt that I could. I listened constantly to the overseas radio and scanned every article in The Stars and Stripes newspaper. But each story about Matt I read only upset me all the more. Besides Nicole, he seemed to be romantically linked with many beautiful young starlets in Hollywood—Tuesday Weld, Juliet Prowse, and Anne Helm, among others.
I wrote him: “I need you and want you in every way and, believe me, there’s no one else . . . I wish to God I were with you now. I need you and all your love more than anything in this world.”
It was a cold, snowy day in March 1962, nearly two years since Matt had left Germany. In the late afternoon, I received a call from him. It had been months since we last spoke.
“I’d like to make arrangements for you to visit me in Los Angeles,” he said. “Do you think we can work it out?”
Stunned, I blurted, “What? I’m not sure. Oh God, I wasn’t expecting this. It’s going to take some time, some planning.”
I didn’t think my father could ever be persuaded to let me go. There were several phone calls with Matt trying to say all the right words to please my parents. I had separate talks with my mother, hoping she’d help me convince Dad.
Once again Matt met every one of Dad’s demands: that we wait until I was out of school for the summer, that Matt send me a first-class round-trip ticket, that he send my parents an exact itinerary of my daily activities for the two weeks I’d be in Los Angeles, that I be constantly chaperoned, and that I write my parents every day.
The next few months might as well have been years. I marked off each day on the calendar until we would be together.
Los Angeles
When the plane landed in Los Angeles, I found the terminal bustling with vacationing students. But I easily spotted Nate Doe, who was still working for Matt.
It was good to see Nate. His big smile and warm embrace were comforting. I loved hearing him tell me I looked great. I didn’t think I did. The last time Matt saw me, I had been fourteen years old and five pounds lighter. I was afraid that he might be disappointed when he saw me, that he might send me home the next day.
I got my first glimpse of Los Angeles when we drove in from the airport. It was beautiful, a far cry from the drabness of postwar Germany. As we passed the MGM studios in Culver City, Nate said, “That’s where Matt films most of his movies.” Soon we were speeding along the legendary Sunset Strip and through the large wrought-iron gates of Bel Air. I was entering a world I’d never experienced. Every home along the winding road seemed grander than the one before.
We turned in at Matt’s house on Bellagio Road, a large home modeled after an Italian villa. We were greeted by Matt’s butler, who introduced himself as Arnold and said, “Mr. S is in the den.” As we walked through the door, I could hear loud music playing and people laughing. Nate led me downstairs.
Before entering, I took a deep breath. The years of waiting were now over.
In the dim light I saw people lounging on a couch and others standing over a jukebox, selecting songs. Then I spotted Matt, dressed in dark trousers, a white shirt, and a black captain’s hat. He was leaning over a pool table, ready to make a shot. I wanted to run to him, but this roomful of people was not the setting I had dreamed of for our first meeting. I continued to stand there, watching him.
He looked up and saw me and after a slight pause his face lit with a smile. “There she is!” he shouted, throwing down his cue stick. “There’s y/n!”
He made his way over to me, picked me up in his arms, and kissed me. I held onto him for as long as I could—until he put me down. “It’s about time,” he said, joking. “Where have you been all my life?”
Aware that every eye in the room was on us, I was uncomfortable and embarrassed. I quickly wiped the tears from my face before anyone noticed. Matt took my hand and introduced me around, and then we sat down together.
“Baby, I’m so glad you’re here,” he kept saying. “I can’t wait to show you around. You’ve grown up. You look great. Let me look at you. Stand up.”
As his eyes surveyed me, I became increasingly self-conscious, and I didn’t want him looking too long. He might find flaws.
He looked terrific, although I was surprised to see that the brown hair he’d had in the Army was now dyed black. He looked thinner, happier.
“Don’t go away,” he said. He kissed me lovingly, then returned to the pool table to finish his game. The night seemed to go slowlytoo slowly. While Matt continued his game a few of the girls eased their way over to me and started talking. They said Matt threw parties almost every night.
Hearing this and watching him as the night progressed, I felt out of touch with his new life, even though the girls told me he talked about me often and even showed my pictures around.
Playing pool, Matt laughed and joked around, and when one of the girls bent over the table to attempt a shot, Matt poked her in the backside with his pool cue. She shrieked in surprise and everyone laughed,everyone except me. I couldn’t help noticing that there had been a slight change in Matt. He’d left Germany a gentle, sensitive, and insecure boy; through the course of the evening I’d see that he now was mischievous and self-confident to the point of cockiness.
He also seemed quick to anger. When a girl cautioned him to watch out for a glass that was perched precariously on the edge of the pool table, he shot her a dirty look, as if to tell her, “Move the glass yourself.”
I felt a surge of uneasiness. I was unsure of what to do or say. Between shots he’d come over and give me an affectionate kiss, ask if I was all right, and then move back for his next shot. Meanwhile, the curious stares of his female admirers never left me.
It was after 12:30 a.m. when Matt finally sat down next to me. Now it was like the old days in Germany: He was suggesting that we go to his bedroom. “Up the stairs, the first door to your right,” he said. “The lights are on. I’ll be right up.” I started to rise. “Wait a few minutes, until I get up and leave,” he said. “That way it won’t look so obvious.”
I wasn’t sure if I liked that. I knew he was protecting me, but there were so many pretty girls around, I wanted to make sure everyone knew he was mine—at least for as long as I was here. I’d waited too long to be discreet. I got up, stretched a little, and politely said good night to everyone, hoping they would know exactly where I was going.
I ran up the stairs and easily found Matt’s bedroom. How different it was from his ordinary-looking quarters in Germany. I never imagined him living in such luxury—thick carpets, exquisite furnishings—but the room had a welcoming, lived-in feeling.
And then my eyes fell on the king-size bed in the middle of the room. I immediately thought of how many women might have slept there . . . whose bodies he had embraced. . . and even worse, whose lips had passionately pressed his and driven him to ecstasy. I couldn’t think about it anymore.
I walked over to the French doors, which overlooked the driveway, and saw Matt’s guests exchanging good nights as they got into their cars. Knowing he’d probably be coming up soon, I rushed into the large adjoining bathroom.
Within ten minutes, I had jumped in and out of the bathtub, combed my hair, brushed my teeth, and dusted my entire body with some powder I’d found in the medicine cabinet. I put on my favorite blue pajamas and stood motionless before the door leading to the bedroom. I was so apprehensive that I was unable to open the door. This was the moment I had both longed for and feared. I sat down on a chair and remembered that when I’d been fourteen, Matt had said that I was “too young.” Now that I was sixteen I tried to imagine just what this new Matt, who I hardly knew at all, might be expecting of me.
About fifteen minutes later, I heard him as he opened the bedroom door, yelling down to his cousin, Billy Smith, who also worked for him: “Don’t let me sleep later than three tomorrow, Billy.” Then I heard him close the door, lock it, and call out, “Where are you, Baby?”
“I’m in the bathroom,” I shouted. “I’ll be just a few more minutes.”
“Don’t take too long. I want to see my girl.”
I still couldn’t move.
He called again: “What are you doing in there, y/nn? No one takes this long to get ready for bed.”
It was the moment of truth: Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and walked out. Matt was lying on the bed, facing me. I walked slowly toward him, climbed into the bed, and lay down next to him. Our faces were only inches apart. It was such an unexpected moment of tenderness that I was mesmerised looking into his eyes. We lay there for what seemed like a long time, staring at each other until our eyes filled with tears.
Matt softly touched my face. “God,” he whispered. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you. You’ve been an inspiration to me. Don’t ask me why, but I haven’t been able to put you out of my mind since I left you in Germany. It’s been the one thing that’s kept me going.”
I couldn’t hold back any longer: Tears streamed down my face. Matt took me in his arms and held me close, but I couldn’t get close enough. If I could have gotten inside him, I would have.
“It’s gonna be all right, Baby. I promise you. You’re here now and that’s all that matters. We’ll have a good time and not think about you going back.”
As we lay in the dim light, he soon discovered that I was still as untouched as he’d left me two years before. Relieved and pleased, he told me how much this meant to him. It was as if every feeling I had as a woman began to emerge, and I began kissing him passionately. I wanted him—I was ready to submit entirely to him. He returned my passion. Then, abruptly, he stopped.
“Wait a minute, Baby,” he said, speaking softly. “This can get out of hand.”
“Is there anything wrong?” I was fearful that I wasn’t pleasing him. He shook his head, kissed me again, then gently put my hand on him so I could feel for myself just how much he desired me, emotionally and physically. He pressed his body to mine and it felt wonderful.
“Matt, I want you.”
He put his finger to my lips and whispered, “Not yet, not now. We have a lot to look forward to. I’m not going to spoil you. I just want to keep you the way you are for now. There’ll be a right time and place, and when the moment comes, I’ll know it.”
Although confused, I wasn’t about to argue. He made it clear that this was what he wanted. He made it sound so romantic, and, in a strange way, it was something to look forward to—just as he had said.
Later that night he told me that I had to stay with friends of his, George and Shirley Barris. Although I protested, Matt said, “I don’t want to go back on my promise to your father. Besides, if he found out you were staying with me, he’d make you go right home.” It didn’t make any sense, but I got out of bed and Matt had Nate drive me over to the Barrises’ house, where I would spend the night. Reluctantly.
Later I found out through one of the wives whom I had befriended the reason for my spending that first night with George and Shirley. Apparently Nicole had been sent back to Boston the day before, and Matt was taking precautions to avoid any awkward situations for himself that might have resulted from late-night phone calls.
Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.
This material may be protected by copyright.
a/n - longer chapter to make up for the last shorter one🩷
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo edit#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#matt stuniolo fanfic#matthew sturn#matthew sturniolo#Spotify
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Elrond hides from the stars, at first. Morgoth's hazy corruption hid the sky, at Amon Ereb, and the Feanorians didn't spend much time outside at night anyway– it was dangerous, even for hardened warriors.
Maedhros and Maglor taught them about the stars of course, they were determined to give E&E education befitting of elvish princes, and no such education could be complete without thorough studies of both astronomy and the elvish star lore from the days of Cuivienen. Still, while they could chart the course of any star across the sky, and tell the tale of any constellation, E&E rarely actually got to see the stars.
They could, on rare nights when the smog wasn't so bad, see Gil-Estel, brightest of them all, faintly shining through the haze. They knew what it was. They didn't know what to think about it. The Feanorians didn't like discussing it, so E&E didn't either.
But then, Elrond and Elros left the Feanorians. Maedhros and Maglor sent them away from just about everyone and everything they'd ever known. They came to Gil-Galad's camp as traumatized children who were treated as objects of curiosity, veneration, even suspicion. Eyes follow them everywhere, and their gaze is never neutral– always approving or disapproving, angry or joyful, awed or fearful.
Gil-Galad's camp, guarded by Maiarin soldiers, is nearly free of Morgoth's corruption. For the first time, E&E see the light of the sun and moon in their full glory. They also see Gil-Estel, burning brightly against the dark sky; no faint light.
Elrond doesn't like it. He feels like Gil-Estel is watching him. When he tries to explain this to Gil-Galad, he's met with sympathy– of course Earendil is watching over him. But Gil-Galad doesn't understand.
Elrond hasn't gotten used to being watched, being evaluated, at Gil-Galad's camp. He'd never felt that way at Amon Ereb– where there had been far fewer elves and his presence had quickly become normal. All those elves watching him now? Viscerally uncomfortable. And the thought of the father he barely remembers being another set of eyes judging him is unbearable. After all, what if Earendil doesn't like what he sees?
#silmarillion#silm headcanons#elrond#elrond peredhel#elros#maglor#maedhros#gil galad#earendil#gil estel#kidnap dads#kidnap fam#help I'm having feelings again#You can't tell me Elrond's feelings about Earendil weren't a horrible tangle#But I do think Elrond really wants Earendil's approval#And worries that he's disappointed his father with his choices#And the constant sensation of being watched without any way to actually talk to Earendil doesn't help
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But imagine, snow in his peacekeeper buzzcut era with bratty capitol!reader who keeps dropping remarks about how much she misses his soft curls. “It’s such a crime what they did to your hair, it was so beautiful, made you look like an angel” and offhandedly mentioning that so and so looks so good with their thick fluffy hair or that if only his hair was longer she’d love to brush it. But then tries to placate him (but actually makes it worse) with “but don’t worry! You still look good!” And he can’t do anything cause it’s not like he’ll go out and buy a wig lol
decided to do a lil blurb of this bc i think it's so cute haha <3
"Well, it's certainly..." You hesitated, tilting your head to the side, lip rolling between your teeth. "Different."
Coriolanus scoffed, annoyed, running a hand through his freshly shaved hair, short- very short. "It's just hair."
"But you had such beautiful curls, Coryo." Your voice is edging on the cusps of a whine. "Why would you do this to them?"
"I didn't have a choice." Coryo snapped. "It's required of the Peacekeepers."
You pout behind him, lip jutted, arms crossed. "I don't know why you don't just let my father talk to them." You sigh. "You don't have to do this. He could get you out of it-"
"-And then he'd know what I've done." Coriolanus huffed, cheeks burning with embarrassment. "That I helped that-that wretched girl. That I was manipulated to help her win." You softened at his words, even as they were hateful. You knew he was disappointed in himself, embarrassed.
You sat behind him, a hand running over the short pieces of hair. Your nails raked lightly over his scalp, and he still leaned into your touch. You were glad he still did that, even with the short hair. Coryo used to love the feeling of your fingers raking though his curls.
"What am I to hold on to now?" You pouted, a soft sigh as you looked at the blonde buzzcut.
Coryo turned, brow quipped curiously. Your hands ran through his scalp, closing around nothing for emphasis. Golden locks you used to tug at, pull into you while Coryo made you feel so good.
Your eyes rounded softly, biting back a tiny grin at the provocative suggestion behind your words. "There's nothing for me to grab at."
Coriolanus' eyes darkened, lips tugging upward in a salacious, curling grin. His body slid over yours, pinning you between his hips. "Tug on my ears if you must." He growled, nipping at your jaw playfully, smug at how you squealed.
"Or maybe you should keep your hands to yourself?" He hummed, brow quipping darkly, sliding down the length of your body.
You sighed, settling into the mattress beneath you, chin tucking to look down your torso at him, settled between your legs. "There's no fun in that, darling." You grinned, raking your nails over his scalp, his pillowy lips kissing at the soft flesh of your thighs.
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x capitol!reader#peacekeeper!coriolanus snow#peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow smut#tbosas#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow fic#coriolanus snow x oc#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus snow imagine#tbosas x reader#coriolanus snow fluff#tbosbas fanfiction#coriolanus snow fanfiction#ficrec#coriolanus snow blurb#coriolanus snow x female!reader#coriolanus snow x fem!reader#coriolanus snow x you smut#coriolanus x you#young!coriolanus snow#tbosbas x reader#coriolanus x reader#the hunger games#tbosbas
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fantasy, fantasy~
Pairings: Pierro, Dottore, Pantalone, Childe, Scaramouche x f! reader
Synopsis: What does he think about when he sees you? Whether you deliberately seduce him or not, he's helplessly bewitched by you.
Tags: smut | suggestive | age gap | implied breeding kink | bullying | mirror sex | degradation | public sex | kitsune reader in scara's part
a/n: omg fatui I'm on my knees! had a lot going on with my life these days like my neighbor's house burst into flames and stuff.
wanted to write for capitano but there's no face to fantasize about. coz i feel like a face already tells a personality y'know.
Pierro
as he's a man well into his age, he does not long for worldly desires. he simply decided he had enough of those in his youth and all he wishes is for her majesty's will to be fulfilled. being no.1 of the harbingers comes with all kinds of people currying favor with him. it's uninteresting to listen to all their blabbers but when this certain politician pulls out his daughter from the side, pierro is captivated.
you look so innocent in white and your youthful face was shining, he almost thought an angel came down to earth. but what caught his eye aside from your face was the peek of cleavage on the otherwise modest frock. you brought in an air of freshness and purity along with the blend of a subtle seductress. you were exactly his type, and yours, him.
little side eyes while you're sipping on your wine, and he's staring at you while he's talking with another. to have pierro's attention solely on you have you excusing yourself from the sudden surge of heat. he cuts off the conversation quickly to follow this maiden he had only seen today. why has your dad kept you hidden for so long? you must be the trump card that he used to entice pierro and others. just the thought makes him seethe.
you jump at the shadow of the fire, startled to see the man behind you. "lord harbinger" you bow and greet, nervous yet trained in poise. 'a well-bred lady. perfect' you were perfect in all aspects that pierro cannot find a single flaw. when he slowly removes your garments and exposes your naked body to the light of the fireplace. he simply finds it suited for childbearing. "don't cover yourself darling. let me see"
when he finally sinks into you, he's reminded of how good it actually was. "fuck it's been so long" he groans and thrusts faster to gauge your reactions and to feel the rub against your walls. plus points if you're a virgin, he'd gladly oblige to show you the ways. but when he learns you're not, you're in for a punishment. "you disappoint me" he slaps your ass while you cry at the impact, yet he pays no mind and degrades you further. "whoring yourself out at such a young age. tell me...who was it?"
after finishing inside you and envisioning you as the mother of his child, he presses an unexpected kiss to the side of your head. "I'll save you. don't worry, I have a plan." pierro says while soothing circles on your tummy. it's a pity your father brought you to a political mishap but fear not; because pierro has a plan. a plan to destroy his enemies and to make you his pretty little wife.
Dottore
during the days spent in the akademiya, dottore doesn't make or have any friends. he's labeled a freak and a madman; disgusted shunning looks were thrown in his way yet dottore doesn't mind. for he is too engrossed in his research and science to give attention to what they say. it all went too far when he's suddenly ganged up by big, burly guys who started beating him up in the corridor. he has no choice but to pathetically cover himself and curl up as they kick and kick until patches of his skin turn purple.
he had to listen to their savage mouths while bearing the pain and archons, he hated them for delaying his research. after they're done with this little fun, he's gonna turn them into humanoids that does everything he says. you, who's an important student in the akademiya and wandering about, saw this scene that had you grabbing a nearby sculpture and smashing it at their heads. the bullies scurry after seeing it was you, and dottore grimaces at you before running away.
"what are you? walking justice?" he sneers whenever you're trying to help but doesn't shake you off. after months of persistence from you; you've become 'best friends' and earned him immunity from the bullies. dottore thought it was great because there was no one hindering him. unexpectedly, he found himself falling for you and fantasizing about you. in nights when he's feeling frustrated, he takes off his pants and takes out his cock to stroke it. closing his eyes; thinking of moments where your breast would suddenly press against him, your panties inside your dorm, and the sinful actions you did in his mind.
ultimately, fate had other plans for the both of you. neither of you didn't want it but your visions of the future just didn't align, and so you parted ways with him after graduation. it was years after when you saw the familiar tuft of blue hair that had you instinctively calling for him. yet the one that turned to you was eerily masked. you're suddenly unsure of who you called but the gloved hand took off its mask and showed you a smile. you caught up with dottore over drinks that had both of you coughing in bitterness. your lips and his were on the rim of the glasses then next those lips were stuck to each other.
years of pent-up frustration are released as you two frantically take off the other's clothes. you lift your sweater off your head as his calloused hands immediately follow in tracing your curves. you could only submit to him by falling back onto the sheets, letting him have his way down when he takes off your pants. little licks transform into devouring kisses have you clenching and gripping his hair. quick orgasms came one after the other to the point you're helplessly sobbing and squirming.
he laughs inside his mind. you remind him of his subjects when he's about to tinker with them. "stop squirming" he stills your shaking thighs while taking his time in rubbing his face against your pussy. "t's too much! dottore stop I-" "let me have my way with you tonight yeah? compensation for leaving me." you didn't even know he took off his pants; you just felt the startling penetration and the scream out of your lungs. dottore chuckled at your head thrown back and lunged for your neck to nip. all you could do that night was to stare at him with glossy eyes and a fucked out face as he does all the work above you. "just spread your legs. don't worry about anything"
Pantalone
with crossed legs and a stark expression, he watches you sing and act on stage. you reserved the best seats for him as usual, he was your benefactor after all. you creating scenes with a male actor; his hands snaking on your waist as you look at each other lovingly is unbearable. pantalone knows he shouldn't be jealous as those endearments are all fake. yet he can't help but be possessive when you swore that your body belongs to him.
you open the door to your backstage room only to see him drinking with a sullen face. "my dear patron is so kind to see me personally." he chuckles at what you said and puts down the champagne flute before standing up and towering over you. "your performance is marvelous is always." he helps you take off the fur coat, gives you a rough kiss, then expertly unzips your gown down to your ass. giving the flesh a light squeeze before a hard spank.
it causes you to jolt in surprise and pull away from him. confused doe eyes staring at his cheeky smile. "that hurts! 500 thousand mora for that." you huff away to take off your accessories yet pantalone suddenly pulls you back in his arms. if you looked in the mirror you could've fooled yourself that he was your real lover. but you had to remind yourself that both of you are doing this for pleasure and money.
"love, you could ask for more and I'll give it to you." he whispers with a lilt while looking into your eyes through the mirror. there, you both watch as he fully undresses you and grips your chin to direct an open-mouthed kiss. you always find yourself anticipating these trysts as it always manages to surprise you. this time it's having sex in front of a mirror, and you're forced to watch your tear-stricken face contort as he penetrates you from below.
pantalone groans at the feeling of your tight walls while you're caged in his strong arms, moaning and thrashing like some common whore. "you see that? you see yourself?" he asks then hisses as he feels your hole flutter when you nod. he lets out an airy laugh and positions his hands on your waist while his fingers press down on your lower belly, giving a stimulating squeeze as he remembers that the actor held this earlier too. the position lets waves of pleasure concentrate on your lower half and so you're uncontrollably dripping. "please move" you beg pantalone with the utmost helpless face you can muster yet he just raises an eyebrow and smirks.
"why should I move when you're the one on top?" "...huh?" your small voice comes out as a croak as you look at him confused. his smile disappears when he suddenly lifts you up and drops you down on his cock as a demonstration. a piercing shriek echoes in the room along with breaths of surprise from you. "didn't you want to be on top? then go on and ride." his dark voice prompts you to shamelessly start enjoying yourself and using him but the burn causes you to stop moving...yet, his sinister eyes reflected compel you to swallow down the protests and keep on bouncing lewdly.
Childe
this battle maniac never thought he'd be obsessed with something other than the thrill of fighting. it's all thanks to you who's the newest recruit, dressed in a skimpy and tight uniform that seems a bit too small for your size. it's very uncomfortable that you have to make some adjustments with the mannerism of biting your lip. and oh how much childe wants to see that face underneath him. moaning, sobbing and pleading. the walk towards you was difficult with blood rushing to his groin.
"need help?" his chirpy voice startled you as you attempt to pathetically cover yourself when he already saw it. "uhm, young master I don't mean to be rude but this is highly inappropriate." just from the tone of your voice tells him that you want him badly as much as he does. childe shakes his head with a "tsk" that made you cower a bit. "do you think your stares were appropriate?" "wha-" "I saw your lustful gaze when I was changing in the open the other day."
'caught you'. your eyes were trembling and your mouth unable to utter a word. you never thought you would be found out this easily by your superior, childe thinks you forgot he was a harbinger who senses leering. "I'm sorry" 'how cute' he muses then he feels another throb in his pants that has him doing a bold move. "why don't you show you're sorry?"
plops of skin slapping, your own muffled cries, and his stifled laughs were all that was registering in your ear. childe never thought he would be this freaky by fucking you in public. no one should be able to use this room as he has instructed but you don't know that of course. so why don't he put a little fear in you?
"fuck take it all" he plunges into your wet folds with a groan, steadying himself by burying his face into your soft mounds. you could only close your eyes and bear the pain of penetration as you work on calming your breathing. once you seemed to be at peace, childe destroys it all at once. "what would they think if they see you in this position? hmm?" "ah!" your eyes snap open when he pushes the limits of your walls. thrusting beyond what you could imagine as your juices squelch and flow.
"naughty girl. leaving evidence behind." he scoffed playfully at your messed up face while slowly pulling out and harshly pushing in. "noooo. I'm cumming!" you moan out something you didn't even comprehend but childe knows exactly what you mean as he speeds up his pleasure to catch up with your orgasm. it seems like childe has another newfound obsession. your dazed look, your filled wrecked cunt, and the thrill of being caught.
Scaramouche
he never thought he would be coming back to his homeland after years. sent on an important mission concerning the gnosis yet he had other things he wanted to achieve. scaramouche deems yae's deal good enough; the traveler's safety in exchange for the gnosis and his kitsune friend's whereabouts. they say never to trust a kitsune as those creatures are sly, but scaramouche's foolish heart would always lead him back to you. a heart? he has one only for you.
did that darn fox fool him? he's been looking around the island and chinju forest for hours now yet you're nowhere to be found. just the thought of losing on a bargain makes him so mad that— *ripple* scaramouche's head turns vigilantly on the sound of a drop on the river. 'someone's here' he senses and surveys the surroundings. the area is lit enough thanks to the blue flowers but there's still patches of darkness. if he isn't careful he might get ambushed on the spot. "agh!" ambushed it is as a groan comes out of his mouth when his back falls onto the ground, amidst the illuminating flowers. his hand quickly forms a ball of electro to attack, but his vexed expression and the energy in his hand soon dwindled when he saw the beauty laying atop him.
he could only stare and you could gawk at how much this person grew. "kuni? kunikuzushi?" you call out to him yet he just lays there underneath you. he's too much in a shock to see you after so many years. you've grown even more beautiful, your voice still like a lullaby, and your body matured, enhanced with curves and chest bigger...ah, scaramouche pushes you off him to hide the flush on his cheeks. you could only giggle at him as he still has a bit of his innocence despite what you've heard. "you're still pretty" he looks at you like you grew two heads at your remark, and another tint of pink paints his cheek once again. 'he never changed'
what's unspoken between the two of you was the summer night spent in secrecy. your squirming body against the futon, his sighs of pleasure, your mewls, and the tears that he shed as he came inside your womb. now, it's all but a distant memory as you act like nothing happened. did you use him for the experience? the thought of someone other than him seeing you vulnerable could make him straight up murder. a sly grin creeps on your mouth as you try to read what he's thinking. 'oh he's so in for a surprise' you giggle inside your head.
in a fit of anger, scaramouche decides to go outside but as soon as he slides the door, he's met with your body clad in a thin robe. your nipples perked and everything was on display for him. before you could say anything, he jumps on you to hungrily ravage your lips. deft fingers pull the robe and take it off your body, all the while making out and pushing you towards his room.
he's so happy he could die as he finally thrusts the head of his cock past your entrance. the feeling of being full once again makes you whine so loud that scaramouche has to shut you up with a spit-connected kiss. "never thought you for a romantic" you tease him with a lofty smile at his slow pace and he thrusts upward in return. "I'm not" scaramouche replies while pulling out; he puts on the face he wears when dealing with his incompetent subordinates. "surely you can take a harsh fucking right?" he growled before wiping the smile off your face with a plunge that made you see stars.
#fatui x reader#pierro x reader#pierro x reader smut#dottore x reader#dottore x reader smut#pantalone x reader#pantalone x reader smut#childe x reader#childe x reader smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x reader smut#scaramouche smut#pierro smut#dottore smut#pantalone smut#genshin x reader#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin imagines#genshin smut#genshin impact imagines
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every night you’ll hold me and tell me i’m much more than my past; oh how i wish i could believe
lh43 | after a phone call from your father, you end up losing yourself. yet luke is there to pick up the pieces, as he always is.
(a/n — this is one of my heavier pieces. i’m not at all intending to glorify this situation. i wrote this during a very hard time for me, when i just needed some comfort. know your limits before reading.)
Luke stared at the mess in front of him. The scattered broken glass that was mixed in with the clothes and papers sat on the floor. Tears were spilling down your covered face, your body curled up on the floor. You didn't even know Luke had gotten back. This wasn't the first time this happened, it was at least the third or fourth.
It wasn't some spontaneous breakdown, you only got this way when something bad triggered you. You weren't the type of person someone had to walk on eggshells around, nervous to say the wrong thing. Years of therapy kept your emotions at bay. Yet, tonight ruined you.
Luke was worried, even just staring at you made his skin crawl. You looked absolutely empty, drained of color and emotion. It was like you were in a coma, no thoughts in your mind.
Luke, at this point, had two choices. Either he got scared from your mental disorders, or he stayed and helped you. And unlike all of your previous significant others, he stayed.
"Y/N, baby?" You were startled by the boy, jumping slightly at his voice. "What happened?" Luke's voice was in a quieter tone.
You finally lifted your head, eyes still focused on the mess. This was then that Luke realized the blood that was dripping from your hands. His breath hitched, mentally disappointed at himself for not seeing the signs.
Luke was too busy invested in hockey that he didn't realize the lack of dishes when he arrived home late at night. He didn't notice the way you was picking at your lips until they bled. Luke didn't realize the long showers you took, or how steamed the bathroom was when you got out. He didn't fucking realize.
That made him even more disappointed in himself than hockey ever could.
"Baby, what happened?" He asked once more, taking a step closer to you.
"I-," You paused, shaking your head. Your eyes still avoided eye contact with him.
Luke took a deep breath. He moved around the pile of clutter. You were nervous, anxious for his reaction. You was used to people leaving you to pick up the messes you would make in their life. They were usually too scared to deal with the after math.
That's what made Luke different from the rest. Luke always stayed to put the pieces back together, calming your mind to a sense of ease. Luke always told you he loved you, but his actions always spoke louder.
Luke bent down next to you, gently grabbing your bleeding hands. The blood and small cuts must be from the miscellaneous glass shards on the ground.
"Can I?" He spoke softly, seemingly unnerved from the situation. You just nodded in reply.
Luke wrapped his arms around you, picking your limp body up off the ground. You stayed silent, your focus now on the blood that poured from your hands. You really had no idea what happened, everything felt like a black hole in your memories. Your brain felt empty, a lack of any knowledge.
Luke carried you into the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet seat. He opened the cabinet beneath the sink, grabbing a wash cloth. Luke drenched the cloth in warm water, ready to tend to your wounds.
You kept your hands in her lap, palms up. All you could think about is what happened earlier. How could you not remember a thing? It's like you blacked out entirely. Nothing made sense, nothing clicked in your brain.
Luke kneeled in front of you, pressing the warm cloth to your hands. You flinched, the cuts burning from the pressure. The pain enough was electric zap to your brain, slowly bringing it back to life. The touch from Luke was another zap.
"Baby, I'm not going to ask. I just need to know what you're thinking." Luke kept his voice at a normal tone. He didn't want to get loud, he didn't want to make you fear him. Luke didn't want you to think he was mad or angry. Luke just wanted to know.
"I don't know." Your voice was hoarse, causing Luke to look up at you. He could tell that you were clueless at what your own brain made you do. That chipped at his heart, his own brain swirling on how to take care of you.
"It's okay." He spoke, still dabbing the cloth on the wounds. The blood had been cleaned up, some wounds still slowly trickling with the red substance. He couldn't see any visible shards of the glass.
On the outside, you were such a happy girl. Everyone on social media loved you, you weren't often receiving hate. People could tell the impact you put on Luke's life, the positive impact. But on the inside, you had deep rooted trauma that ruined you.
"Did you hurt yourself anywhere else?" He asked, nervous for your answer. Luke cleared his throat, tossing the cloth into the sink.
You finally looked into his eyes. You could see the worry that flashed in his eyes as you couldn't give him a clear answer. You dug at your brain for answers, fighting for any sort of memory from the previous hours.
"Luke, I don't know." You answered, truthfully, darting your vision away from his once again.
Luke slowly nodded, staying silent. The silence between them was tense, at least you thought it was. Luke wanted to know what happened, you were worried he'd leave. Tears started to sting Luke's eyes as he rolled up the hoodie sleeves. His body burned with a sad, heavy feeling.
As he seen the opened scars that he once watch heal, his heart broke. Luke could've helped prevent this. If he wasn't go focused on that damn sport, he would've been able to see that his girlfriend was struggling. He could've seen everything. Luke was so disappointed in himself, unsure of what to think in the moment.
Luke's mind worked irrationally, quickly. He stood from where he was kneeling and left the bathroom.
Outside the bedroom, Jack was sitting at the kitchen counter. He knit his brows together in confusion, looking at his brothers sad look. Jack was somewhat knowledgeable as to what can rarely happen.
"You good?" Jack asked, his eyes peering at Luke.
"Yeah, yeah. Y/N just - something happened. I don't know what yet." Luke answered, digging in his hockey bag.
Luke leaving left you in a state of shock. A familiar lump reappeared in your throat. The sobs that were once silenced by the comfort of Luke, had reappeared as you brought your knees back up to her chest. Though it was normal, you thought for once maybe Luke would stay. You thought Luke was different, but he left.
Luke, on the other hand, had just left the bathroom to regain his focus. The focus that was to help the girl he loved. He moved swiftly, searching his hockey bag for the first aid kit that he was required to have. He thought it was a stupid requirement, considering if they got hurt there was an athletic trainer that tended to the injury. But now? He was thankful he had that stupid thing.
Luke found the plastic box and rushed back to the bathroom. That's where he seen that you were now sobbing. Luke set the box on the sink.
"Hey, it's okay." Luke sat back down in front of you, placing a comforting hand onto your thigh.
You removed your head from your body, coming to the realization that Luke was still here. He hadn't left, yet. Luke was still there to help you, his love showing more and more.
"I need to see your arms so I can clean them, please." Luke asked calmly, opening the first aid kit. He dumped the supplies onto the ground, searching for the right items
Luke reached out for one of your arms, which you hesitantly gave to him. Luke rolled up your sleeve, watching as you looked away from the fresh cuts. He opened an antiseptic wipe, ready to clean the cuts.
"This is going to burn, you know this will burn. Just try to breathe for me baby, okay?" Luke squeezed your hand in comfort, you nodded as a reply.
Luke pressed the wipe to the wounds. You hissed at the burn, trying to find something other than the pain to focus on. You had racked your mind as you tried to comprehend what had sent you on this spiral. The harsh pain on your arms were quickly bringing your brain back to life. A gasp fell from your lips.
You remembered it all. You were watching Luke and Jack on ESPN, unable to go to the game due to the homework you had. Your homework and the game had been forgotten when you received that phone call. There it was, your dad had called you. He was reminding you of how shitty it was of you to leave him struggling. Reminding you that boyfriends aren't forever and that family was. Your dad didn't forget to insult you, either.
In fact, he called you every derogatory name in the book.
"My dad called me." You stated, voice quiet.
Luke's eyes flickered up to yours, realizing that your brain was coming back to life. "What did he say?" Luke continued cleaning your arm until all the dried blood was gone.
"The normal." Simple sentence that carried a heavy meaning. Luke knew what 'the normal' was when it came to your father. The normal wasn't a civil conversation. The normal was your father full blown screaming at you until you broke. It reminded Luke of the many times he'd rushed to get you after your dad argued with you.
Luke didn't answer, he just took the other arm into his hands and cleaned the wounds on that arm. The silence was more comfortable now that there was less confusion. When Luke finally finished cleaning all your fresh wounds, he threw everything away. The small trash bin in the bathroom was now overfilled with medical supplies, antiseptic wipes, and bandage wrappers.
"I'll get you clothes to change into, you can take a bath and lay down. I'll clean up the room." Luke stated, standing up in front of her. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair.
"No, I'll clean it, I made the mess." You responded, feeling suddenly guilty for the fact he had to pick up your mess. You hated that Luke had to deal with your mess, your baggage. It was an insecurity from the first time something bad happened in your life while you were dating Luke.
Luke quickly shook his head, starting to run a bath for you. You were still curled up on the toilet seat, your hoodie now on the ground. Luke went back into the bedroom, grabbing a new sweatshirt and pants for you. He placed them on the sink.
"I'll wait out here, come out when you're done." Luke pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, turning towards the exit.
"Luke?" He paused, turning back to face you.
"Thank you."
Luke left his bedroom, going out the the main room where Jack was now watching film on the iPad. Jack looked up at Luke, patting the spot on the couch next to him. Luke collapsed onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.
"How bad was it this time?" Jack asked, setting the iPad next to where you left your laptop.
"Not the worst one." Luke replied, running his hands down his face. "Her dad called her again, I'm probably going to make her change her number or something."
"That's for the best, probably." Jack answered, watching his brother. Jack leaned over, patting Luke on the back. "You are doing good, Luke. Many people would've ran away after that. You really love her, kid."
"I do, I really do."
Luke had gone back to the room, quickly cleaning up the mess of glass and letters. He recognized the letters as ones you kept from when you were a kid. From when your dad was still in prison. Luke didn't want to keep them, but he did. Even though your dad was a shitty person, the letters meant a lot to you.
Luke laid down on the bed, using the remote to turn on the TV. Luke turned on your favorite show, waiting for you to be done in the bathroom.
A few moments passed, you sluggishly walking out from the bathroom. Luke quickly turned his head to look at you. You laid down next to him in the bed. His arms quickly slid around you, pulling you close to his body. He placed a kiss to the top of your head, smoothing down your hair.
"I'm sorry, Luke." You apologized, hiding your face from him.
"Baby, it's okay. You know I won't get mad about it. I'm always going to help you through this shit." Luke quickly replied, his hands now holding your face in his hands.
"I just feel so guilty. You already have so much stress from hockey, I don't want to add to the stress." You admitted, a single tear falling down your cheek.
"Y/N, you don't stress me out. I love you, and this is just something that comes with loving you. I would rather stay here and help you than run away from this. This is something I can handle, something I've always been able to handle. Okay? We don't have to talk about this right now, baby, you need to sleep."
"I love you, Luke." You mumbled, cuddling further into his body.
Luke pressed another kiss to your head, watching as you fell asleep. You had a hold so strong on Luke. A hold that no one has ever been able to break or alter. A hold that would last forever through it all.
#nhl#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#hockey#luke hughes#hockey imagines#lukehughes#luke hughes blurb#luke hughes fic#luke hughes imagine#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes angst#luke hughes oneshot#jack hughes
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hii ogm!! i'm loving the drink event and can't wait to see more stories! i wanted to request a manhattan with muzan (fem reader) where muzan is a politican, similar to in Kimetsu Academia where hes a politican!
sorry if i wasn't being to direct!
feel free to deny the request etc and have a great day! <3
The grass is greener on the other side.
Starring: Muzan Kibutsuji x f!reader;
Format: one-shot;
Warnings: nsfw, age gap between Muzan and the reader but the reader is 21, corruption kink, anal sex, modern au, unprotected sex, mention to reader stretching herself out before the encounter, pet names, slight degradation, use of handcuffs;
Plot: You knew only one thing for sure and thus was that Muzan Kibutsuji was your father’s rival. With the incoming election day, you were busy running errands for your father, when you found yourself face to face with the devil himself. From that infamous night, you always found yourself tangled into the silky bedsheets of Muzan’s bed, allowing him to strip you off of your sense of self-preservation, dignity and purity with every secret meeting.
Drink chosen: MANHATTAN (anal sex, corruption kink, handcuffs, shy reader);
MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT | RULES FOR THE EVENT
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"Dad, I can't make it to the conference in time. My flight got cancelled. I'll take the next one in the morning" you blatantly lied to your father, eyes staring at the golden number decorating the white door of the hotel room you were supposed to meet the reason of your little defection at.
It was not the first time you abandoned your duty as the daughter of a man running for becoming the next Prime Minister to follow your lecherous whims. You felt ashamed of yourself, when this started. You were not that kind of girl, but this man had clearly brought out the worst in you, convincing you it was perfectly fine to fight for what you wanted. To be a little selfish was essential to live without regrets.
Even if your choices would have hurt and disappointed the ones you loved.
But if they did not know about your whereabous, they would have not suffered, right? Therefore, here you were, telling lies to the man who raised you, spoiled you and treated you like a princess since the day you were born. All of this for the sake of a secret affair with his younger rival, the very man he was competing with to conquer the hearts of the electors.
“Don’t worry, honey! You have already done so much for me. — your father reassured you from the other side of the phone, causing your stomach to clench as the remorse ate you from the inside out — You will attend the next one” he exclaimed confidently, while you fluttered your eyes close and nodded your head mournfully. If only he knew where you were, if only he saw you now, wearing that scanty dress to please Kibutsuji, he would have undoubtedly watched his perfect little girl turn into a stranger, a backstabber deserving nothing but vituperation.
“I’m sorry, dad. For real. I’ll be rooting for you anyway” you said with a tinge of sorrow in your voice, right before knocking on the door and hearing the sound of footsteps approaching it from the other side.
“Oh, sweetheart, I know you will. I really have to go now! Take care” your father said then, right when two piercing red eyes locked with yours on the threshold of the hotel room you deemed as nothing more than the Gates of Hell.
Your breath was suddenly stuck in your throat and you barely forced yourself to end the call with a “Bye, dad” before Muzan snorted and stepped aside to invite you in. He was visibly displeased at the sweet way you had whispered the epithet rightfully reserved to the man you shared the same blood with.
He hated the fact that you were his daughter and, if he had to be honest with himself, he had decided to lure you in his den to get back at him. At least, at first. Horrified at the idea of growing attached to you, something that had inevitably already happened, he tried to act distant, but you constantly made it hard to let him consider you nothing more than a cheap harlot. Why? Those eyes of yours, your shyness, were endearing to say the least.
“You can’t stay away from me, can you?” he mocked you, closing the door behind you and watching as you kept your eyes transfixed on the polished marble floor under your shoes.
“I wish I could. It’s not that simple” you whispered, shrugging your coat off of your shoulders and abent-mindedly hooking it on the clothes hanger.
The moment your voluptuary curves were exposed to his gaze, you felt it. Shivers ran down your spine, while you did not dare to turn around and face him. It was unncessary, anyway. He walked stauntered towards you like a predator, his hands searching for yours as he pressed you against the wall. His cologne intoxicated you, while his hot breath fanned the shell of your ear in a scandalous way that made your thighs squeeze together. Planting your palms to the wall before you, he intertwined yours fingrs and nuzzled your cheek with his pointy nose.
“I think it’s true what they say. The things we love are frequently the ones that destroy us” he murmured in your ear, his lips tracing your jawline hazardously.
No matter how many times you had crumbled at his feet, granted him the chance to break you down and build you up again, his touch left you always in a haze. Your cheeks heated up, a knot between your eyebrows, as you tried to hide your face from him. If only you could understand how much that tender trait of your personality drove him nuts.
“Don’t hide from me” he stated, surprisingly tenderly as he reached his hand up to wrap it on the back of your neck.
His grip was secure, when he forced you to crane your neck to meet his gaze. His lips captured yours shamelessly, hungrily, his tongue darting out of his mouth to lap at your parted lips and enter your mouth with the same confidence he held when he walked on a stage. Arrogant and unhinged, demanding and never coy he snaked his arm around your waist to make sure your back was flattened against his firm body. Timid moans fell from your lips, sounds he galdly swallowed, whilst leading you towards the king-sized bed at his back.
Lifting your lids to peer up at him, you hesitantly turned around to be face to face with him and your hand cupped his smooth cheek to run your thumb over his cheekbone. Theoughout the time you two had spent together, you had learned to read his body language. He never gave you the chance to be the master of your sea, but he did not disdain small attentions that oulked the strings of his heart. He had almost given you the impression he was touch-starved, as a dog who had been forced to just bark and growl all of his life and showing off his sharp fangs to keep potential threats at bay.
Muzan had barely opened up with you about his past and personal life. All that he asked of you was someone to keep his bed warm at night, even if you had to crawl into the darkness with him to quench his thirst for you.
You kissed him again, slowly, making sure your bodies were pressed up, that not an inch stood between you two. He reciprocated your attention, careful to remark how you were merely able to take the initiative because he had reluctantly allowed you to. You would have never forgotten it anyway. Not when his hands unceremoniously tugged the straps of your dress down your shoulders and proceeded in ripping it apart. You gasped, the sound of the garment coming apart at the seams making you knee buckle.
Muzan flicked his gaze up, tugging the ruined item down your curves to expose your body to him. The way you bit onto your lower lip nervously, still striving to avoid his plum red eyes made him want to ruin you over and over again. Every single time you two met, Muzan stripped you off of things he had yet to touch. Today was not an exception.
“What? Are you sulking over that dress? – he taunted you, quirking a dark eyebrow up before unbuckling his belt hastily – Ask your dad to buy you a new one. After all, he would be ecstatic to shower you in gifts” he bitterly commented, discarding the leather item onto the floor and shoving you down onto the bed by pushing onto your midriff.
His cold touch made your skin sizzle and your mouth went dry, when you lifted yourself up on your elbows, watching him stride to his suitcase and delving his hand into it, rummaging to draw something out.
“Or you wish it was me the one who sent gifts to you, huh? I bet you do. But, mon chéri, you know your dad would toss them into the bin. Therefore, I am forced to give you something else. Something your dad cannot see” he bantered again, his words sounding like a dagger in your heart, words representing the lyrics to the melody played by some metallic object clinking in his hands.
With your heart thrumming into your chest, you let your eyes wander to figure out the source of the chiming only to feel your breath hitch in your throat, when you found out they were shiny handcuffs. The look on your face spoke volumes, your body shuddering in anticipation as you kept on switching your focus from the object dangling from his index and his face.
Mischief twinkled in his eyes, watching in delight as you shifted your position on the bed in sheer desire and pure terror of exploring your tastes, terrorized to find out that you were probably as deranged as he was.
“You are noxious to me. You’ve poisoned me. I should not be here and let you mess me up” you uttered, sitting in a kneeling position on the snow-white sheets of the bed.
Muzan grinned and grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, face dangerously close to yours as he grinned at your face “Then why are you here? Why are you not in the crowd rooting for you daddy, huh? You’re royally screwing up, darling” he cooed, forcing you to lay face down on the bed.
With your cheek pressed against the rose-scented blankets, you chewed on the inside of your cheeks in a spiral of self-deprecation. He was right. You had deliberately chosen to follow him that infamous night and, much to your dismay, the following ones. It was all on you and your greedy heart, hypothetically assuming you still had one in your chest.
Muzan climbed on the bed behind you, his hands reaching for your wrists and pinning them togther behind your bed as he slapped the cuffs around them, factually preventing you from moving your arms freely.
“Have you done what I had asked of you?” he then inquired, hands already slipping underneath the waistband of your thong and dragging the thin item down your thigh.
“Yes, I did” you whispered, ashamed of yourself as he hummed in return.
The things you had done for him, things that had not even crossed your still innocent mind made you want to rip yourself apart. But how? How could you blame yourself for wanting him?
“Splendid. — Muzan chimed, reaching for something behind him on nightstand — Just relax. Look, I’ll let you see your beloved daddy while I fuck you up, alright?” he sarcastically taunted you, as you began to put the dots together. The remoter, he had grabbed the remoter. He remembered the exact hour your dad was supposed to speak to the Country.
Sweat beaded your forehead as you squirmed underneath him, a hoarse chuckle rambling from somewhere deep into his chest as the screen of the tv projected the smiling, proud face of your father. His eyes seemed to bore right into yours as Muzan fumbled behind you with his pants and grasped your hips into his calloused hands.
“Ah, look at him. My rival has a good taste in neckties. Where does he buy them? Marinella? Those are surely italian-coded” the raven-haired man behind you noted, deliviring another unfathomable kick in your guts.
“You are a bastard” you whispered, eyes widening as he pressed the girthy tip of his cock against your puckered hole. The stretch left you breathless, eyes watering in the process. Frankly, seeing the face of your father partially blurry was far way better than having a clear vision.
While Muzan grunted, makinf sure you could feel every inch of his cock dilating you, the words your dad said made you choke out an uncontrollable sob.
“My sweet daughter could not be by my side today. Her presence is a blessing. Hopefully, she’s now somewhere out there to bless someone else’s day. I love you, sweetheart!” your father said and there was a burst of applause to echo throughout the room.
Wincing softly in pain, hips rotating to accomodate to the intrusion in your most private area, you had to endure the way Muzan sneered and began to rhythmically thrust into you, a crazed expression on his face as he pounded into you without much care of your condition “Oh, you have no idea. Her ass is a fucking blessing, sir” he mocked your father, earning a stifle moan from you.
You wished you could space out, but it was impossible. The stimulation you were receiving was driving you mad. The pain gradually subsided, causing a series of unbridled moans to erupt from your throat. Drool was running down the angle of your mouth, back arching convulsively, as you heard every words your father said and felt every comment Muzan made.
“Fuck… Nah, I’m going to have to send my regards to your father, kitten. — he rasped out, giving you one last thrust, before pulling out with a groan and releasing onto the small of your back — After all, I’m going to steal his lucky charm from him, once I beat him” he whispered after a few seconds.
Trembling, astonished, you closed your eyes and laid there with a drained expression on your face. Muzan Kibutsuji was going to be the death of you.
AUTHOR NOTE.
Hello there! The third request for my event is done! Honestly, I hope you’ve enjoyed this one as much as I did. Why? Guys, come on, it reflects my main story “Guilty pleasure”. I felt like I had deprived you of ‘Politician Muzan’ for way too long not to write this one as soon as possible. Now, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!
Until next,
X O X O
TAGS: @doumadono @axesfordays @tomorika-pura @cursetopia @the-dark-creature @yazzzmints
#muzan x reader#muzan x you#muzan smut#muzan kibutsuji x reader#kibutsuji muzan x reader#muzan x y/n#demon slayer smut#demon slayer x reader#kny smut#muzan kibutsuji
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May I... may I touch you?
Astartion x durge!reader
thank you @ferenofnopewood (also for being my beta reader!) for the inspo for this. We both went feral talking about this.
Synopsis: a simple rewrite of the Act 2 romance scene with durge and Astarion. Basically, this is just extra soft and I imagine it would be cute if he remembered you hugging him in the confession scene. Also this is totally my headcanon for my own durge but don't mind that
Of course as always spoilers for act 2!
Your head spun with bile and wrath, unable to sleep it off as you normally would try to do. But no matter what you did nothing seemed to calm the thundering headache forming at the edges of your mind. So without much other choice, you stood up. Your companions were blissfully sleeping while you wrestled with unseen demons. Once you got up you could see Astarion from across the still burning fire; his beauty was always apparent even when he was at rest.
But your silent admiration was rudely interrupted by a foul-sounding goblin butler.
"He is so afraid. So, so afraid of everyone besides you who he ought to fear the most." His words were clearly said with the intention of shaking your resolve. "You could do so much better." The goblins' tone disgusted you, how he could say such things and yet you know they rang true in Astarion’s own mind, he was so worried you could do better than some runaway vampire spawn. But these thoughts were clouding your judgment even more than the urge was and with that you shook your head as the thoughts faded to the background.
"Get away from him." The bile and raw, murderous intent that had been clawing at your insides broke out in a growl. But seemingly unimpeded by your defense he playfully hopped over Astarion, the thought of using your urge to protect him might not be all that bad of an idea.
Was he taunting you? It was a thought that crossed your mind and passed as he spoke again.
"I won't lay so much as a talon on him! I wouldn't rob you of that delight. Your clever mind is penning up a tragedy as we speak. Your repressed urge yearns to kill." He appraises a moment before continuing "And kill you will. Tonight, the moment you close your eyes, your favorite person will be brutalized." The words were a shock to your system. You couldn't let that happen not to him, not ever. The thought alone made you want to vomit that your own body would even consider it.
"I-I love him, No, I can't be" You couldn’t imagine losing no not him. He’s been the only person who didn’t judge, didn’t blame you, no matter how bad it got. You couldn’t bear to—
"We all kill what we love most, in time"
You choked back a sob.
"You like him for more than his looks, but he will never believe that. Why not make him a pretty corpse?" Your hands started to twitch as you let yourself briefly indulge in the fantasy of wrapping them around the wretched creature’s neck. If he really meant to taunt you into committing a murder he was certainly getting close to achieving that goal.
"He must live....I haven't yet told him how I truly feel about him." The felt less like a defense against the butlers goading and more like a reminder to yourself. What you were truly trying to achieve here. You have promised to protect Astarion. From Cazador, from yourself, it didn’t matter. And it was a promise you would never break…at least you hoped.
"Why not whisper it while you twist a knife? Or have a love confession be the final words between you? It is my duty to ensure you are making the right decisions, Master." He lets out a sigh mimicking a father in its nature. "There was much..disappointment at your reluctance to kill the little Moonmaiden. You could kill this one deliberately. I'm sure it will be considered a great show of good will. The tithe could still be yours." There it was again, the offer, the temptation…what you assumed was to be considered one. You still had no idea what this so-called tithe even could be; but you were certain you wanted nothing to do with it if it required such a foul murder.
"I will save him, whatever it takes."
"I do not doubt you will act with the decorum befitting one of your rank. Good night." And with that the butler was finally gone leaving you with a choice you had already made prior. Taking the initiative and kneeling besides Astarion you attempted to wake him. But as you went to reach for his shoulder your hand paused of it’s own violation, it itched to wrap itself around his throat and ruin him. You would not allow it, a battle against your own mind was something you had gotten accustomed to on this journey thus far and so once you were able to regain composure you went to wake him but he made quicker work of it then you could, questioning whether or not he was actually in a trance at all tonight.
"Well, hello. Looking for a cuddle?" he said, flirtatious as ever even in such a trying time for yourself. Although you were sure the look on your face gave way to his next set of words. "Although you don't look entirely...yourself. What's going on in that head of yours?"
That question was one you had to think about how to answer, and quickly. "Listen, now isn't the time...I need to protect you." You tried your best to convey the urgency of your situation as the headache overtook you again.
"All right, talk quickly, then." He seemed concerned, but there was something unsure about his expression as well.
"I'm going to kill the person I most care about: you."
You took a breath, it was ragged and barely enough to push the headache down for the moment, as you used the brief moment of clarity to gauge what Astarion’s reaction.
"Unless you can stop me." A faint glimmer of hope mingled with your voice as you practically pleaded with him. Astarion was a capable enough fighter, surely stopping you would be an easy enough feat.
"How flattering, And disturbing" he smiled "You could have talked to me before things got murderously bad, you know. We are technically in this together." He was using sass to cover nerves that you couldn’t help but notice. It was so like him even in the face of danger "It certainly puts the death of dear, sweet Alfira into some perspective." Those were the last words you heard before your vision blurred and your head grew into a dizzy blur and you fainted.
But when you awoke you were not in control, it was like watching from a window all you could do was try and tap on the glass. You tried your best to resist hurting him…although you realized quite quickly you were bound by your hands and feet. It gave you some relief to know that you could do little to rebel in this state.
"This thing won't have you. It won't win." You hoped those words were true. You tried your best to resist again expressing understanding. Instead your body reacts with a will of its own, it tried to bite at him. Which would have almost been funny any other time but now…now all you wanted to do was scream out in frustration.
"Ah ah ah! We ask before we bite.” He took this better than you expected, with a sigh he spoke again "You're cute, you know. In another life we might have been friends." Those words felt flippant in the moment, but you could tell there was an underlying sadness to them. If you’d been of your right mind you would have tried to comfort him. But comforting anyone was beyond you at the moment. All you could do was fight against your binding and your urge as it drove you to struggle against the bindings the kept you from hurting anyone, including yourself.
"Easy now, darling, You've got this. And I've got you." Those words gave you a strange comfort and a boost of determination. Feeling another wave of the urge you tried your best to resist and this time managed to express a sliver of thankfulness for his words.
"You'd do the same to me. Now just relax - dawn isn't far off." He wasn't wrong about that, as much as it was hard to admit he knew you better than you'd like to admit at times. The night passed on and without any bloodshed, a mercy from the gods. You once again returned to your mind, scared and exhausted.
Then, almost on cue, Astarion came to free you from your bindings. He sat in front of you, and a look of embarrassment crept onto your face as he spoke.
"I felt bad for the bard, seeing you like that. Poor Alfira never stood a chance, did she?" It wasn't really a question even if he posed it as one because the answer was clear as day. "Now that you're back with us," he paused, "We need to have a talk."
You had dreaded this moment but he was right. You needed to talk about this whether you wanted to or not. You sighed before trying to speak, but the words ended up getting caught in your throat. Suddenly you realized there were tears falling down your cheeks. You were unable to hold it back any longer. Any sort of strong front you had put on up unto this point faded in an instant and you were sat in front of him sobbing.
Concern formed on the man's face and he adjusted himself to get a little closer before asking "May I....may I touch you?" His words were gentle and meant to be calming - although almost anything said in his voice was calming. You gave him a nod. You weren't sure what he was going to do exactly but when he gently wrapped his around your shaking body in a similar fashion to how you had hugged him a few nights prior. Those tears started to flow even more. Nestling your head in the crook of his neck, tears wetted his rather flowy camp shirt.
"Sh, sh, you can let it all out." Those words caused the tears to flow even harder. Had you really been holding in all of this for so long? You didn't know. All you did know was that you really needed this: A gentle comfort from someone you loved so deeply as him. After a moment, he tentatively stroked your hair. Although you couldn’t help but wonder if his hesitation was because he wasn’t sure how to actually comfort someone or if he just didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. It didn’t really matter all that much, you didn’t care, you appreciated that he even tried in the first place.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, him just stroking your hair and holding you while you let out all the tears you needed to get out. By the time you could finally talk again your eyes were red and puffy, but he would never say a thing about it. As you removed yourself from his body, but only enough so you could get a look at his face he instinctively raised a hand up to caress your cheek before stopping but your answered his silent question by leaning into it. He wiped away some of your tears before gently running his thumb over your cheek. It was a soft gesture and much needed, his touch was welcome in that moment.
"So then, are you ready to talk now, or do you need to stain my shirt more first?" he joked. A small chuckle made its way across your lips, and a smile found its way to his lips as well.
"I suppose I am...I know I owe you an explanation" you sighed.
"You don't owe me anything” he corrected “But I would like an explanation."
You gave him a nod. He was right, of course. But considering you did almost kill him, explaining seemed like the least you could do.
You told him everything about “the dark urge” as you had taken to calling it. Well, everything you could remember. He sat there and listened patiently. But his face gave way to no emotion, no emotion, no fear just…..understanding.
Once you finished explaining, he replied, "You are not alone in this - none of us are. We can even compare notes if you like." His comforting words made you feel like a monster, it was refreshing.
You looked his face over, before you leaned into his hand again, closing your eyes as sadness began to overtake you. "You know you're allowed to hate me for this...I know I would" Your self-loathing rearing its ugly head, you couldn't help it; as much as his comfort was nice to hear the fact of the matter was you felt like a monster. Just some attack dog meant only to destroy everything and anything in your path.
"I don't hate you..because this," he made sure you kept eye contact during these words, his gaze was intense fully focused on you in this moment "This is not you" The words rang through you, and you wanted more than anything for that to be true…but it was hard to believe when killing just felt so natural to indulge in and it was just so easy to let the urge do the work. But in this moment you had to take him at his word; because if you didn't you were sure you were going to start sobbing again.
He pressed his forehead to yours before speaking again "Whatever this is though, you will get through it. And I will be here to make sure you do." A promise you hoped would be true.
#astarion#baulders gate 3#astarion romance#astarion ancunin#astarion fanfic#dark urge#astarion x tav#bg3 astarion#astarion x reader#astarion x durge#astarion x mc#astarion x dark urge#astarionfics#my writing
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A guide to writing Bi-Han
I've seen far too many fanfics/oneshots/headcanons and art pieces out there completely mischaraterizing Bi-Han to the point he becomes unrecognizable from who he is in canon. For fans who love Bi-Han as he is, it can be quite frustrating to see people misunderstand his character so much. This post is not meant to be criticism, but was rather made with the intention to sort out common misconceptions, educate and help creators of fanwork understand Bi-Han and his personality better.
RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS BROTHERS:
Bi-Han doesn't hate Tomáš. There's so much fanart out there depicting him as a bully or bad brother when that's as far from canon as it could be. You can read the in-depth analysis on their dynamic in the post I've linked, but to sum it up, Bi-Han had the option to pick any other Lin Kuei member to accompany him and Kuai Liang to the teahouse or the Ying fortress, but each time he picked Smoke. He could have chosen Sektor or Cyrax, both of which are more experienced and completely loyal to him, and yet he still chose Tomáš instead. He also appears worried when Smoke nearly dies after Nitara's attack. Yes, he snapped at Tomáš once, but siblings fight and say things to each other that are often uncalled for. The relationship between them cannot be meassured by one line that was said out of anger or the intro dialogues that are set after their falling out. According to Smoke himself, Bi-Han was always cold towards him, but that only suggests they were never close, not that there was ever any hostility between them or that Bi-Han was ever harsh/cruel towards him in the past. Tomáš also tries to reunite the brothers and doesn't want Bi-Han to be his enemy, even if he's disappointed in Bi-Han's actions. He even admits he used to look up to him. Some artworks, however, aim to make it look like Bi-Han is oh so mean to poor, sad Tomas, when that's a blatant mischaraterization of both of them, simultanously babying Tomas, a grown man, and demonizing Bi-Han, a tragic and traumatized character.
Kuai Liang and Bi-Han used to be close. Kuai Liang knew about Bi-Han's frustrations, Bi-Han knows all of Kuai Liang's weaknesses, they trust each other enough to rely on each other in combat and both feel equally betrayed by the other because of the close brotherly bond they once shared and because of the trust that existed between them. Kuai Liang was Bi-Han's second in command, Bi-Han respected him. He's never once seen belittling or insulting Kuai Liang, not even after they're no longer on good terms with each other. By the time the story of MK1 starts, Bi-Han has already reached the peak of his frustration, which explains why he snaps at his brothers so often, especially when their father is brought up, but at no time was Bi-Han ever abusive towards Kuai Liang or Tomas. He seems to have put a lot of trust in both his brothers and in return, they trusted him too. If Bi-Han had ever been a violent person with little love and care for his family, Kuai Liang and Tomas wouldn't have been so shocked at the revelation that he let their father die.
There was always a side of Bi-Han that cared about his brothers and his choices indicate that he still does. Apart from the most obvious evidence for this, the scene where he checks on both of them to make sure they're unharmed, there are also other subtle clues that he cares about Kuai Liang and Tomas. In his chapter, Bi-Han is the one who fights off all threats (Nitara, Ermac...) while also giving the easier and less dangerous task of staying outside to Smoke, the least experienced one of the brothers, as he goes to capture Quan Chi himself with the help of Kuai Liang. While he says he wants Kuai Liang dead in some intros, his actions contradict his words. He had the chance to kill Kuai Liang at the Ying Fortress, but chose to spare him. SPOILERS: The leaks for the dlc claim that Bi-Han will be trying to capture his brothers alive. He seems to have no interest in actually harming either of them, just in making sure they can't get in the way of his plans.
PERSONALITY:
Oftentimes, fanfics portray Bi-Han as this hot-headed guy with anger issues who is only capable of one emotion and it's rage. But Bi-Han's anger is not his most defining trait. There are so many more layers to his personality. Just because the story mode only showed us situations in which his anger is triggered doesn't mean that's all there is to him. He's not the kind of person to go around yelling at everyone he sees and getting angry out of nowhere. I also don't see Bi-Han cursing/cussing or insulting others. As grandmaster, Bi-Han represents the Lin Kuei and he's expected to act a certain way. @inflamedrosenkranz wrote a genius analysis on how out of character it would be for Bi-Han to curse and I strongly recommend reading it in addition to this post.
Bi-Han is not a mysogynist. This is something I see all too frequently in reader insert fanfics where Bi-Han is written as someone who doesn't take his s/o seriously or looks down at them because they're a woman. Meanwhile, Bi-Han shows nothing but respect and admiration for strong women. He seems to have looked up to his mother much more than to his father and just listen to his intros with Sindel or Kitana. He admires Sindel for her leadership and even encourages Kitana to take Outworld's throne. He also wouldn't have taken in Frost as his apprentice and wouldn't have allowed Cyrax into the Lin Kuei if he thought women weren't fit to be Lin Kuei warriors.
I know this will disappoint a lot of headcanon writers, but Bi-Han would never degrade/insult or otherwise humiliate his partner, be it through words or actions, especially not during intimate moments shared between them. His significant other directly represents him and his clan. He would not tolerate any sort of disrespect towards them, let alone disrespect them himself. If his partner were to ask him to degrade them, that would be an instant dealbreaker for Bi-Han. He would expect any potential partner to show the self-respect and dignity befitting of their role as the grandmaster's significant other.
I often see drunk!Bi-Han headcanons, but honestly, it would be out of character for Bi-Han to drink alcohol. First of all, he absolutely wouldn't be able to see the appeal of it and secondly, he would hate the way it makes him feel. I imagine he likes being in control of his own body, he likes knowing that he can rely on his reflexes should he need them and alcohol would practically render them useless. As grandmaster of his clan he needs to be an example for all the other Lin Kuei. He would also not want to take the risk of overinduldging and embarrassing himself in a drunken stupor.
People like to write Bi-Han as a grumpy and overly serious guy who can't crack a joke to save himself, but they forget he makes ice puns. Ice puns. Bi-Han definitely has a sense of humor. I just don't think he gets to show anyone that side of himself often.
Bi-Han is a lot smarter than people give him credit for. Yes, siding with Shang Tsung was a bad choice, but it was one he made out of dispair and his frustration played into it as well, clouding his judgement. The way Bi-Han tries to assess his opponents' weaknesses shows his strategic mind. He let himself be fooled once, but he's also young and still has a lot to learn as grandmaster. It's not a sign of him lacking intelligence, like some people claim.
GOALS:
While he's ambitious and wants to acquire power to some extent, Bi-Han is not the power-hungry and selfish character he's often wrongly depicted as. His intentions lie far beyond that and are much more noble. Bi-Han craves independence and freedom for the Lin Kuei. He wants his clan to get the respect and recognition they rightfully deserve after protecting Earthrealm for so many generations. He doesn't want to conquer all of Earthrealm and he has no interest in ruling other realms either. What he wants is a small portion of Earthrealm because he's convinced that the Lin Kuei deserve it. He wants a reward for all their years of loyalty and duty, not to become a tyrant.
To conclude this, I appreciate writers and artists who do their research before writing/drawing a character and I hope this analysis can be helpful to those unsure of how to correctly write Bi-Han.
If I can think of more examples to add to the list, I will make a part 2 of this post.
#bi han#bi-han#bi han sub zero#mk bi han#mk sub zero#kuai liang#mk scorpion#tomas vrbada#mk smoke#mortal kombat 1#mk1 2023
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Hey sweetie! Can I request something about prom proposal with Ollie Bearman?
I don't wanna dance if I'm not dancing with you
pairings: ollie bearman x fem!gf!reader
summary: ollie does everything to invite you to prom in person and be able to go to prom with you.
authors note: I don't know if this is how you wanted it, but I thought and thought about how to make a prom proposal and nothing came to mind. I hope you like it 🙃
word count: 2.2K
Late one evening, as Ollie sat in his hotel room, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. He picked it up to see Y/N's name flashing on the screen. With a smile, he answered the call, knowing that their conversations were always filled with excitement and joy.
"Hey, babe!" Y/N's voice bubbled with enthusiasm. "Guess what? I just bought the most amazing prom dress! It's this stunning gown that I know you'll love."
Ollie chuckled, grateful for the distraction from his racing worries. "That's fantastic, Y/N! I'm sure you'll look absolutely beautiful in it."
Y/N's excitement didn't wane. "And you know what else? I helped your mom pick out a matching tie for you! It perfectly complements the color of my dress. We'll be the most stylish couple at prom!"
Ollie's heart sank a little at her words. He knew he had to be honest with her. "Y/N, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice tinged with regret. "I have a testing session with the Prema team on the same day as the prom," he confessed, his voice tinged with disappointment. "I won't be able to make it."
Y/N's voice held a mix of sadness and understanding. "Ollie, I know how important racing is to you. It's your dream. I don't want you to give up on that just for me. If you have to go for the testing session, then go. I'll be okay."
Touched by her words, Ollie felt a pang of guilt. He wished he could be in two places at once, but his dedication to his racing career left him with a difficult choice.
"Y/N, I want you to enjoy your prom. It's a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and you deserve to have an amazing time," Ollie said, his voice filled with sincerity. "Maybe you could go with someone else, a close friend, so you won't have to miss out on the fun."
There was a long pause before Y/N replied, her voice soft but resolute. "Ollie, prom is not about just going with anyone. It's about creating memories with the person you love. And that person, for me, is you." Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, but she shook her head defiantly. "Ollie, I don't wanna dance if I'm not dancing with you. It just wouldn't be the same."
Ollie felt a pang of guilt wash over him. He hated seeing Y/N upset, especially when it was because of his racing commitments. He knew he had to find a way to make it right, to be there for her on their special night.
With determination in his eyes, Ollie made a silent promise to himself. He would find a way to attend the prom and surprise Y/N, no matter the obstacles that stood in his path.
Over the next few days, Ollie worked tirelessly, speaking with his team and exploring every possible option. And finally, a glimmer of hope appeared. A solution presented itself, and Ollie seized the opportunity.
Ollie felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement as he stepped off the plane and into the airport terminal. His parents had been instrumental in helping him make this surprise visit to Y/N, despite the late hour. They had understood the depth of his love for her and the significance of being there for the prom.
As he made his way through customs, Ollie's parents greeted him with warm smiles and open arms. They had always been supportive of his racing career and understood the importance of love and relationships in his life.
"Son, we're so proud of you," his father said, placing a hand on Ollie's shoulder. "We know how much Y/N means to you, and we wanted to help make this surprise happen."
Ollie's mother added with a twinkle in her eye, "Oliver, you're lucky to have found someone who brings out the best in you."
As they drove through the quiet streets in the early hours of the morning, Ollie's anticipation grew. The love and support of his parents warmed his heart, and he couldn't wait to see the look of surprise and joy on Y/N's face.
He quietly entered the house, tiptoeing up the stairs to his bedroom. With a mix of excitement and relief, he reached for his phone and dialed Y/N's number. The phone rang, and he held his breath, hoping she would pick up.
"Hello?" she mumbled, her voice laced with sleep.
"Hey love," Ollie said, his voice filled with anticipation. "Could you do me a favor? Can you open your bedroom window?"
Confusion tinged Y/N's voice as she responded, "It's the middle of the night, Ollie. What's going on?"
"Just trust me, Y/N," Ollie said, his voice filled with anticipation. "Just look, please."
Curiosity piqued, Y/N dragged herself out of bed and walked to her bedroom window. She slowly pulled back the curtains, her eyes widening in disbelief as she saw Ollie standing in his own bedroom, gazing back at her.
A gasp escaped Y/N's lips, and she clutched her chest, unable to believe her eyes. "Ollie? Is that really you?"
Ollie smiled and nodded, his heart pounding with excitement. "Yes, it's me."
With a deep breath, Ollie mustered all his courage and poured his heart out. "Y/N, you mean everything to me. I can't imagine going to the prom with anyone else. Will you do me the honor of being my date? Will you go to the prom with me?" he asked, holding up a series of handwritten paper, with the word "PROM?" in a style reminiscent of the You Belong with Me music video.
Y/N's eyes filled with tears of joy as she read the message. Her heart swelled with love, and a radiant smile spread across her face. She nodded vigorously, unable to find her voice.
"Yes, Ollie!" she finally exclaimed, her voice filled with happiness. "A thousand times, yes!"
his face broke into a wide smile, relief and joy washing over him. He couldn't believe he had pulled off the surprise, and seeing Y/N's happiness made every effort worthwhile.
Y/N's voice filled with anticipation as she made a request. "Ollie, can you come down to the backyard? I want to be closer to you."
Ollie's heart skipped a beat at her suggestion. Without hesitation, he agreed. "Of course, Y/N. Give me a moment, I'll be right there."
He swiftly made his way downstairs, phone still in hand, and stepped into the cool night air. The moon cast a soft glow on the familiar surroundings as he walked towards the shared fence that separated their backyards.
With each step, the connection between them felt stronger, their voices still intertwined through the phone. Ollie's heart raced with excitement, knowing that he was about to see Y/N in person, even if it was just a few feet away.
As he reached the fence, he looked up and there she was, standing on the other side, a radiant smile adorning her face. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, it felt as though time stood still.
Without a moment's hesitation, she ran towards Ollie, leaping into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist. Ollie caught her, a mixture of surprise and delight evident on his face.
She cupped Ollie's face in her hands, looking deeply into his eyes. And then, with all the love in her heart, she kissed him passionately, pouring all her emotions into that single moment.
Breathless, they pulled away, their foreheads resting against each other. Y/N's eyes glistened with tears of joy and disbelief. "I can't believe you're here." she whispered, her voice filled with awe and overwhelming love
Ollie couldn't help but smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of his devotion. "Nothing could keep me away from you, Y/N," he murmured, his voice laced with sincerity. "I would move mountains, cross oceans, and defy all odds just to be with you."
He gently placed her back on the ground, their hands intertwined, never wanting to let go. Y/N's heart swelled with gratitude and affection, knowing that Ollie had gone to such extraordinary lengths to make her dreams come true.
Ollie carefully took out the corsage he had prepared and gently placed it on Y/N's wrist. The delicate flowers and handwritten notes intertwined, symbolizing the moments and thoughts they had shared while being apart. Y/N's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she noticed the tiny notes attached to the corsage.
"What are these, Ollie?" she asked, her voice filled with wonder.
Ollie took a deep breath, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Every time we were apart, every race I competed in, I wrote a little note for you. They were my way of staying connected to you, of reminding myself of your love and support. Each note represents a moment I thought of you and carried your presence with me."
Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she gently untied one of the notes and read its contents. It was a heartfelt message expressing Ollie's love and admiration for her. She was overwhelmed by the depth of his affection and the effort he had put into expressing it.
"Ollie, this is so incredibly sweet," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. "I never knew you were doing this. It means the world to me, knowing that you carried me in your heart every step of the way."
Before they could delve deeper into their heartfelt conversation, the sound of footsteps approached. Y/N's father, having been awakened by their presence outside the house, stepped onto the porch with a mix of surprise and joy on his face.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" he chuckled, seeing Ollie standing with his daughter. "Ollie, my boy, I didn't expect to see you here tonight. Shouldn't you be in another country?"
Ollie's eyes widened, his surprise evident. He had known Y/N's father for a while, but this unexpected encounter left him momentarily speechless. However, Y/N's father quickly reassured him with a warm smile.
"Don't worry, Ollie. I'm thrilled to see you here," he said, patting Ollie on the back. "You're always welcome in our home. Why don't you both come inside and get some rest? It's been quite a night."
Y/N's face beamed with gratitude, her hand intertwined with Ollie's. "Thank you, Dad. We'll take you up on that offer."
As they entered the house together, hand in hand, Ollie couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging and acceptance. Y/N's father's warm welcome reassured him that their love was supported by those who cared about them.
Inside the house, the warmth of Y/N's family enveloped them. Y/N's father, with a playful glint in his eye, turned to Ollie, feigning annoyance.
"Alright, you two lovebirds," he chuckled. "I'll let you off the hook this time, but remember, no funny business under my roof. Ollie, you're sleeping in the living room tonight."
Ollie grinned sheepishly, knowing Y/N's father was just being his protective, caring self. "Yes, sir," he replied, trying to suppress his laughter. "I promise, no funny business."
Y/N's father then added with a wink, "And don't think I won't be checking in on you."
They all shared a good-natured laugh, feeling the warmth of their shared connection. Y/N's father embraced Ollie like a son, and Ollie knew he was lucky to have such a loving and accepting family in his life.
As the night wore on, Ollie settled into the living room, feeling grateful for the opportunity to spend time with Y/N.
Y/N, unable to resist the desire to be close to Ollie, sat beside him on the couch. Ollie pulled her close, his arms wrapping protectively around her. They both sighed contentedly, relishing in the comfort of their embrace.
"I've missed spending nights like this with you," Ollie confessed, his voice filled with sincerity. "Being able to hold you, to feel your presence next to me, it's something I long for when we're apart."
Y/N's heart swelled with love, her fingers gently tracing patterns on Ollie's chest. "I've missed it too, Ollie. There's nothing quite like falling asleep in your arms. It feels like home."
As Ollie felt the gentle rise and fall of Y/N's breath against his chest, he couldn't help but smile. Her peaceful sleep in his arms filled his heart with love and gratitude. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, caressing her cheek with his fingertips.
As the night deepened, Ollie leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Y/N's forehead, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude. The soft touch of his lips against her skin conveyed a multitude of emotions that words alone could not express.
He whispered once again, his voice barely audible in the quiet room, “I love you, Y/N.” his words filled with tenderness and devotion. It was a declaration meant for her, a reminder of the depth of his feelings and the unwavering commitment he had for her.
Y/N stirred slightly in her sleep, sensing his affectionate gesture. A peaceful smile curved her lips as she snuggled closer to Ollie, finding solace in his embrace.
With a contented sigh, Ollie closed his eyes, cherishing the moment of pure serenity. In that intimate space, he felt an overwhelming sense of peace and happiness, knowing that he was sharing his life with someone who meant the world to him.
#f2 fanfic#f2 x you#f2 imagine#f2 fluff#f2 x reader#f2 fic#f2 x yn#ollie bearman x oc#ollie bearman x you#ollie bearman x reader#ollie bearman#ollie bearman fluff#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 fics
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Family life with the yandere OC's
A/N: a few of you have asked about having kids with the yanderes or already having kids when meeting them etc, so I figured I'll give my view on how they'd handle a family with you :)
Warnings: drugging, neglect, isolation, guns, threatening of beating up fifth graders,
Silas:
Things will change once you have kids. Oh, they’ll really change. For the better? Of course not. He’ll grow even more protective and possessive over you and your children. I can see him with three daughters of different ages. He’ll move from his two story house to a bigger one out in the countryside so you and your child can grow up far away from the city’s polluting atmosphere. He wants to be able to ‘taint’ his children himself, no one else. After all … if your kids start to talk about your home life at school … maybe someone will try to take them and you away from him.
As a father, Silas will be the ultimate deal. He'll be loving, playful and protective. He will give your daughters whatever they desire. All he wants is to see them happy. They will go to school under fake names to make sure that none of his enemies can find them. You better get ready for hell if someone (even from school) dares to hurt your daughters because Silas will do everything in his power to get rid of the ones that have the nerve.
"Daddy's home! Hi, my beautiful girls, i've missed you so, so much! Have you been good girls while daddy's been gone? Wonderful. Where's Y/N? Upstairs? Thank you. I have to go hug them too."
Dr Kry:
Once you find out that you'll have twin girls, Dr Kry is quick to turn off the poisoned air purifier. He can't risk that anything happens to you or your kids. He'll move you from the hospital to his house in the woods. He wants his kids to grow up near nature, to care about the earth and its inhabitants. It's a perfect place too, there's no one around.
As a father, Dr Kry is strict and a bit harsh. He wants both his daughters to succeed and not be compared to one another. He will read for the family in front of your fireplace in the evenings and teach your kids things about the world. As much as he'd like to homeschool your twins, he can't do everything at the same time. He'll let them go to a private school that shares his beliefs and tutor them a bit on the side. He will support your kids in any way they need to affirm that they'll succeed in life.
He won't keep them sick, like he does with you … unless they figure out what he's done to you. He's done his best to indoctrinate your twins, but if his smart genes have passed on to them … then he'll have no other choice.
"Sweetpea, don't look at me like that. I have to do that! They know about what happened at the hospital. They know everything. They're smarter than I thought. Of course I love them! That's why I'm doing this! They're safe this way. If I can't create a world for them, then they'll have to stay home. They have each other, Y/N, they're okay. I will do anything to protect my family."
King Edmund:
He’ll be joyful. Maybe not too much about having a kid … but because that part is over now. He won’t have to worry about not getting an heir. The castle will get more guards now that there’s a baby coming. Every corner will be baby proofed and every staircase will be watched. Every window will be locked and every door blocked off. You’ll have maids surrounding you everytime Edmund’s not close. He won’t risk a. single. damn. thing.
As a father, Edmund’s absent and strict. He expects his son to be a worthy heir and continue his legacy. If he doesn't, he'll be more than disappointed. He'll watch you play with him from afar with a smile on his face. Deep inside he really loves the child, but there's so much more on his shoulders than just raising a kid. He has to teach him so, so much. He can't be a failure.
He'll teach his son to protect you when he's gone. And your son will do everything to impress his father. If you thought that Edmund was suffocating, you haven't seen his offspring.
"Why that look, my dear? Our son wasn't letting you leave the room? He threatened a guard? Oh my … sounds like it's my kid afterall. I'm proud of him. Now I know you'll be in good hands when I'm gone."
Jerry:
To be honest, Jerry doesn't want kids, but if she had one, it'd be a daughter. She knows she'll mess them up, she won't be a good mother. She's terrified of giving birth and hates toddlers. It'd be better if you already had a daughter / sister before Jerry laid her eyes on you. Wherever the child comes from, Jerry will take care of it her way. She'll teach her to protect herself and to fight. You'll notice that Jerry will be softer with her and do whatever the little girl wants. Bake a cake? Go shopping? Beat up some fifth graders? Jerry will bring her baseball bat.
Jerry will be more of a big sister / aunt, then a mother. She will move with you and the little girl to a new house to give all of you some more space. She will have her men watching the house at all times. You want to leave her, knowing that she's not good for the little girl, but the little girl seems so happy. She really thinks that Jerry is cool. Jerry will never let the two of you leave, she's never been this happy.
"Hi, baby boy/girl, how's it going? You're mad because you can't leave the house? Well, duh, it's for your safety. By the way, I brought our little girl to the shooting range. She needs to learn how to use a gun. What? No, I'm not making her into a mini-me! I'm creating a strong woman, like me. There's a difference. Now come over here with your cute, little body."
Hedwig:
Hedwig will live a traditional rich home life. Two kids, a boy and a girl, nannies, maids, chefs, everything. The four of you will have moved to another house that her family owns. The kids will go to expensive private schools and get taught by the best of the best. Hedwig will spoil them, just like she was. You'll not get to have a job and will stay home with Hedwig. She wants you to 'go full on out on your hobbies'. The only time you're allowed outside is when Hedwig’s with you. Never alone, especially never alone with the kids. You could run away with them.
As a mother, Hedwig will be present and understanding. She will stay home for the most time and will always be available. She has assistants for a reason. She'll listen to all of your kids' problems and stand up for them, even if they're at fault. Her kids can't do anything wrong. If they act spoiled and ungrateful, however … she will cut off all allowance until they understand how lucky they are. You'll do a lot of trips and go on a lot of vacations. Your kids will have a lot of freedom, but you will be wrapped around Hedwig’s expensive finger.
"Ah, they got in trouble in school again. I have to go get them. Some kid accused our son of throwing a ball in their face. I don't think our little boy could ever do that. No, sweetheart, please stay at home. I will take care of this. You shouldn't lift a finger. I love you, stay here. When i come home we can watch a movie, okay? Perfect!"
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere drabbles#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere fics#yandere mafia#yandere oc x you#yandere ocs#female yandere#yandere doctor#yandere king#yandere au#yandere headcanons#yandere oc x reader#yandere parents#yandere scenarios#the younger generation
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The First Perfect Christmas
PAIRING: Severus Snape x Reader
SUMMARY: For the first time in Severus's life, he won't be celebrating Christmas alone. This time, he'll spend the holidays with you, his girlfriend. Since it's your favorite holiday, Severus tries to get you every Christmas gift on your wishlist. But when not all the items you want are available, Severus worries that he'll ruin your Christmas and disappoint you.
Warning: a very brief reference to child/domestic abuse and there's angst, but there's nothing intense.
Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and even if you don’t, I hope you have a wonderful day! I know I haven’t published in a while since my life has been busy, but I wanted to at least write something for the holiday season. Also, I tried my best to use British English terms (I know I didn’t use British spelling, though) but I may not have gotten them all since I’m ✨American✨.
*GIF isn't mine; credit to @smilingformoney
For the first time in his life, Severus Snape’s Christmas won’t be one of loneliness. He spent his childhood Christmases with his parents, but being with his parents was like being with no one at all. Every Christmas was the same; his father drank himself into a violent rage and his mother sat on the couch in silence. Severus envied the children who received the newest toys and ate warm meals beside a grand tree. At the very least, Severus wanted to spend time with his family even if there was no tree in the corner of the living room. Wasn’t Christmas time supposed to be full of holiday cheer and merry greetings?
You are the only person who makes him feel happy during the holidays. He stuck his nose up at the Christmas decorations around Hogwarts and not a single tinsel could be found in his quarters. But when the clock struck midnight on the First of December, you required him to add some holiday cheer to his quarters. He placed a mini tree in the living room, hung stockings above his fireplace, and lined the doorframe to his bedroom with garland. The colorful ornaments you gave him for the tree are a little too bright and tacky, but it doesn’t matter; he’d do anything to make you happy.
On the other hand, you decked out your Hogsmeade cottage in the spirit of the holidays. A train chugs around a miniature Christmas village, the large tree displays red globes and floating snowflakes, and a beautiful snow globe with white horses rests on your mantle. The aroma of gingerbread cookies and plum cake wafts from your kitchen as Severus walks into your cottage. You peek into the living room from the kitchen and smile widely as you see him come in.
“Come here!” you say enthusiastically to him, but you run towards him and pull him into the kitchen before he even has a chance to oblige. There are many baked goods on the counter, ranging from gingerbread cookies with iced smiles to a Yule log that actually looks like it was cut from a tree. Without warning, you shove something in Severus’s mouth and he almost spits it out from the surprise.
“How’s the plum cake? I’m in between giving my neighbors a plum cake or a plum pie. They said they like anything with plums, but a pie and a cake aren’t the same thing. So, what do you think I should bake them?” You look at him expectantly as he chews on the plum cake. It is absolutely delicious; it’s moist and not too sweet. Severus swallows the last bite and is about to respond when your eyes widen and you gasp. “Oh wait! I forgot to give you the pie!” Once again, Severus almost chokes as you shove the plum pie into his mouth.
“Now what do you think?” you ask him. Severus stares blankly at you. He doesn’t want to make the wrong choice and therefore disappoint you, especially since you’re looking up at him with expectant eyes. What if he chooses the cake and the neighbors deem it not moist enough? Or what if he tells you to bake the pie and the neighbors don’t like doughy desserts? It’s a minor decision to make, but he never wants to upset you; so, he chooses the sweet he likes more.
“I prefer the cake,” Severus says, pointing at the dessert on the counter. You beam at him and wave your wand to pop another cake into the oven.
“Thanks! Now why don’t you sit down on the couch and I’ll clean the kitchen up?” Before he can oblige, you gently push him out of the kitchen to immerse himself in the Christmas wonderland of your living room.
Severus sits next to the arm of the couch and looks around the room as he patiently waits for you. He notices an open journal on the side table and leans forward to look at the top page. It’s a list of some sort: a snow globe, notepad, pillow, and Iridescent Ink. Every wizard knows what Iridescent Ink is and he thinks the ‘pillow’ is the one he saw you looking at in Hogsmeade. The snow globe on your list likely refers to the one featuring Diagon Alley with reindeer flying overhead. He remembers how you gushed over how cute the reindeer were and how magical Diagon Alley looked… Wait, is this supposed to be your Christmas wishlist?
Severus’s head snaps to the snowman Christmas countdown, which lets him know that there are twelve days until your favorite holiday. Twelve days should be plenty to find all the gifts you want, but he still internally smacks himself for forgetting to buy gifts until now.
He immediately straightens in his seat and rips his gaze from your journal when you enter the room, carrying two mugs of steaming liquid. You wrap your arms around him and Severus blushes crimson. Even though you’ve been dating for almost a year now, Severus reacts the same way whenever you touch him. “I can’t wait to cuddle with you tonight. It’s been extra cold recently.” You rest your head on his shoulder and gaze up at him.
Yes, his thoughts about the pillow were definitely right. The pillow shapes itself around both sides of your body and adjusts when you move. He remembers how you teased him when you said, “I need something to cuddle with when you’re not here to be my body pillow every night.”
“I regret not being here to keep you warm every night, though you know that my responsibilities at Hogwarts are the only factors keeping me away from you.” Severus blushes again at your closeness and looks down. On the weekends, Severus stays overnight at your Hogsmeade cottage. You snuggle so closely and wrap your legs around his so tightly that your bodies are practically fused together. Although he isn’t particularly fond of being confined underneath your body, he does appreciate the warmth that envelopes him. “Even when I am slaving away under Dumbledore’s orders, you can always use a warming spell on nights like these.”
“Mmm, but I prefer it when you keep me warm.” Any thoughts about the hot chocolate awaiting him on the table flee his mind when you cup his face and kiss him on the lips.
After a night of suffocating cuddles, Severus untangles himself from your arms and slips out of the bed. When you stir awake and attempt to pull him back into the bed, Severus whispers an excuse about needing to retrieve essays to grade. You press a wet kiss to his cheek, murmur a farewell, and fall right back to sleep. He’s thankful that your shift at Scrivenshaft’s is later in the day since you won’t catch him apparating to Diagon Alley.
Stores in Diagon Alley have just opened when Severus apparates there. He heads straight for Scribbulus Writing Implements to buy Iridescent Ink for you. Rows and rows of ink line the shelves, making it impossible for him to find Iridescent Ink among colors like Eccentric Emerald and Plum Paradise. After he finds three jars, he heads for Rosa Lee Teabag. Even if you didn’t ask for tea on your wishlist, Severus still buys a box of your favorite tea. Then, a book with moving illustrations displayed in the shop window of Flourish and Blotts catches his eye. His cheeks burn when the cashier asks if it’s for his child, but his momentary embarrassment is worth it since you love books with colorful, detailed illustrations. Perhaps it could be passed on to his future child too.
He remembers seeing your desired snow globe at Ethereal Embellishments Emporium. House-themed snow globes line the top shelf and snow globes with a crackling fireplace lie below. Severus’s brow furrows when he notices that the Diagon Alley snow globe is missing. Try as he might to scavenge through the store and rearrange the shelves, Severus can’t find it.
Even when he asks the store clerk if there are any Diagon Alley snow globes in their inventory, his inquiry remains unsuccessful. She comes back with a box containing a snow globe in the shape of a lantern. A snowman and snowwoman hug each other and wave at the person outside the glass while snow falls around them. Severus frowns as he turns the snow globe in his hand. One reason why you like the Diagon Alley snow globe is because of the cute reindeer flying overhead, and this snow globe has cute snowpeople. Even though it’s nice, it isn’t the one you wanted. After handing it back to the store clerk, her thanks her for her time and leaves the store.
Awkwardly standing in the middle of the street, Severus feels a sense of dread as he considers where else he can find that snow globe. Dazzling Decorations Depot and Hartigan’s Holiday House both sell Christmas decorations. Though when he visits the two shops, he finds out that Hartigan’s has sold out of snow globes and Dazzling Decorations Depot doesn’t even sell snow globes.
His dread turns into panic. He only bought the Iridescent Ink, which can be bought at any stationery shop. The Hogsmeade store that sells the pillow is closed on the weekends. He’s afraid that if he purchases it on Monday, you’ll catch him walking back to Hogwarts with the pillow in hand. He can’t buy the notepad from Scrivenshaft’s either since you work there today and it’s closed on Sunday. The only other day you have off is Tuesday, but it may be sold out by then.
Of course, Severus can gift you items other than what’s on your wishlist. But what if you get angry that he didn’t get you everything on your wishlist? What if you don’t like the gifts he’s chosen for you? Would this ruin your Christmas? Examining the contents of the shopping bags from Rosa Lee Teabag and Flourish and Blotts, Severus can't shake the thought that the items he purchased aren’t good enough for you.
After returning to Hogwarts, Severus drops off what he bought and retrieves the essays he actually does need to grade. He returns to your cottage and sits at your kitchen table, grading the essays. Reading his students’ subpar papers on the properties of Wolfsbane Potion does nothing to distract him from his thoughts, especially as he hears the toot of the train chugging around the Christmas village. You decorated your cottage in the Christmas spirit, make him Holiday Blancmange every weekend, and send sweet notes to his office in Hogwarts Castle. Meanwhile, he hadn’t even thought to start buying gifts until yesterday.
Severus’s eyes brighten as you return home from work, but his gaze holds a bit of sadness as he thinks about what a poor excuse of a boyfriend he is. You laugh as you close the front door and quickly hide something behind your back. “Give me a second!” you say enthusiastically to him and dash into your bedroom. He finishes marking an essay as he hears you rearranging items in your room.
You come back into the kitchen and wrap your arms around him from behind. “How was your day, sweetheart?”
“It can only ever be average when I must read my students’ atrocious papers,” he drawls and rests his hand over yours. “How was work? You are slightly later than usual.”
“It was stressful and the store was packed with people throughout my entire shift. You know, with it being the holiday rush and all.” You lean forward and kiss Severus’s cheek. “But I got something special for you.”
Feelings of guilt eat away at Severus’s heart and his shoulders droop, but he tries to shake it off before you notice. “Oh? Where is it?”
“You won’t get it until Christmas, silly.” You laugh and playfully push him. “By the way, what do you want to do for Christmas? I was thinking that we could just stay in and cook together. Oh! And what do you want to eat? We must have roast beef and I’ll bake any dessert you want.”
Severus thinks you look the most beautiful when you’re excited about something. Your eyes shine, you smile widely, and you shake his shoulders as you go on about whatever makes you passionate. He doesn’t deserve you, especially when you look as beautiful as you do now. He just smiles at you and mumbles, “Whatever you want, I will be happy with.”
After classes end on Tuesday, he walks down to Hogsmeade to buy the pillow and notepad. Lumos Living is swarming with customers when he walks into the store. Unfortunately for Severus, the shape-shifting body pillow is so popular that there are none on the shelves.
Severus’s pointer fingers pick on his cuticles as he approaches a store clerk restocking the shelves in the bedding section. “Do you have any of the shape-shifting body pillows in stock?”
“Unfortunately, we don’t. But we’ll restock on Friday morning, so you can come back and check on that day!” Great, just great. Yet another item on your wishlist that Severus can’t buy. He huffs and thanks the clerk as he stomps out of the store.
Scanning the streets of Hogsmeade, Severus ensures you’re not around as he makes his way to Scrivenshaft’s. Just as you described your shift on Saturday, the store is packed with wizards and witches alike. He hasn’t seen the notepad you want before, but he remembers how you described it to him after you came home from your shift several weeks ago. Every time you pull a sheet out, the next sheet morphs into a completely different shape and design.
The notepad and notebook section isn’t as busy as the rest of the store. There are flying notepads, notebooks that you can have conversations with, and notepads in the shape of a twinkling Christmas tree. Severus thanks Merlin when he finds the notepad you described and snatches it off the shelf before anyone else has a chance to grab it.
Severus walks toward the long checkout line with a slight pep in his step only to freeze as he catches sight of you. Tuesday is your day off; why are you even here? He ducks behind a table displaying a stack of notebooks as you turn to look in his direction. It doesn’t seem like you notice him since you calmly walk over to your coworker at the register.
The two of you have a brief conversation before your coworker hands you something. When you start walking in his direction, Severus dashes from the table to the opposite side of the store. You press something inside the keyhole of a door, which he assumes leads to the stockroom, without spotting your boyfriend.
Severus feigns interest in the limited edition holiday quills as he waits for you to leave. He slowly sorts through the boxes of Festive Featherflame Quills and pretends to look for the best quill. Another customer gives him an impatient look when he takes too long, so he awkwardly steps to the side. He turns around to look at the door to the stockroom, but you still haven’t emerged.
“Sev?” Severus jumps and begins to pick at his cuticles at the sound of your voice. He quickly shoves both the Festive Featherflame Quill and the notepad to the side. His eyes dart to a door beside the quill section, which has just closed shut. Realizing that this door also leads to the stockroom, Severus internally curses himself for not noticing it when he sprinted over here. “What are you doing here?”
“I… well, I am in need of ink and a quill,” Severus attempts to say nonchalantly. When your eyes wander to the shelf behind him, he turns his body to hide the two items from your sight.
“Okay…” you say and frown. “I just wish you bought it during my shift.”
“I apologize, my love, but I did not realize that I needed these two items until this morning,” Severus lies again, but feels a genuine twinge in his heart as you frown. “Further, why are you here today if you are not working?”
“I left my coat here last night.” You still look a little upset, but you peck a kiss on his cheek nonetheless. “I’ve got to run. See you in a few days, okay?”
With a sigh of relief, he watches the front door close behind you. He quickly retrieves the notepad he threw to the side and makes his way to the checkout line, which is even longer than before.
A bell from the second register rings, beckoning the next customer in line. He recognizes the store clerk helping him at the register as Mary, your favorite co-worker and the reason why you two are together. One chilly day in late November, Severus popped into Scrivenshaft’s to buy jars of ink. You caught Severus’s eye as he searched for ink and he could barely string a sentence together when you helped him at the register. Under the guise of buying ink and quills, he visited the store every few days, secretly reveling in the opportunity to admire you and exchange a few words with you. After several weeks, his office stationery drawer overflowed with ink and quills, and Mary noticed how enamored he was with you. During every free moment of your shifts, she teased you about him and eventually convinced you to make the first move.
“Severus, hey!” Mary says enthusiastically and louder than he would’ve wanted. Several other customers and employees glance at Mary and him. “How’ve you been? What are you getting today?”
“I am well. I would like this.” Severus hands over the notepad, causing Mary’s eye to twinkle.
“This one is so cute!” she gushes. Then, something seems to click in her mind and she gasps loudly, of course. “Wait! This is the one that your girlfriend wants!”
Severus looks around to see even more people looking at them, causing him to sigh. Keeping this purchase a secret from you is practically an impossibility at this point. “Mary, please quiet down. I do not want her to know that I am purchasing this for her,” he attempts to say calmly, but a hint of impatience leaks into his voice.
Mary makes a zipping movement over her lips and smiles giddily. “Don’t worry! I promise not to say anything.” She scribbles down the item and price on a record and then looks back up at him. “That’ll be five galleons.”Swiftly handing over the coins, Severus leaves the store with the notepad clutched firmly in his hand.
When his final class before lunch concludes on Friday, Severus shoos his students from his classroom and rushes down to Hogsmeade. He’s nervous that he won’t make it back to Hogwarts on time since the lunch period isn’t long and the village is full of cheery citizens participating in holiday activities. Though what makes him sweat is the possibility that Lumos Living has already sold out of all the shape-shifting pillows they restocked this morning. He can’t afford any more bad luck when it comes to gift-giving.
But unfortunately for Severus, his already minimal good luck has completely drained. There are no more shape-shifting pillows, no matter how many times he ransacks the store and sticks his hands into the crevices between the shelves. He mutters curses under his breath and stomps back to Hogwarts for the final classes of the day, where the students note that he is in an especially foul mood.
His only consolation after all classes end for the day is that the Christmas holidays have just begun, so he can spend two whole weeks at your cottage. His heart soars with excitement as he heads down to Hogsmeade, yet simultaneously sinks with self-disappointment for not buying everything you asked for.
When you arrive home from your shift, you stomp the snow off your boots and joyfully display a bottle of eggnog in your hands. “It was a little expensive, but why not? It’s Christmas and I get to keep you here for two weeks!” you cheerfully say as you hand him the eggnog. Severus waves his wand and pours two glasses as you continue, “I was thinking of going caroling after my shift tomorrow and I know you don’t like it, so I won’t drag you along. But I’ll make up for my lateness tomorrow night with smoked salmon for tonight’s dinner, okay?”
“That sounds delightful, my love,” Severus says quietly and sips his eggnog. Turning over the bottle in his hand, he sighs at your sweet gesture, which he feels he is unworthy of.
As you wave your wand to summon all the ingredients for tonight’s dinner, you turn to Severus and frown at him. “Is everything all right, sweetheart?” you ask, concern clear in your voice.
Severus looks into your eyes and sees genuine worry. He can’t bear the thought of ruining your day, so he forces a small smile and pulls you close to him. “Do not worry. I am fine. My head is merely spinning at the thought of the potions I have to brew for my stores over the Christmas holidays. At least those pesky students will not give me headaches for the next two weeks.”
You smile back at him and nuzzle your nose against his. “And I’ll start making dinner so you can get your head off things. But I still expect you to make one of your special drink concoctions.”
As the evening progresses and you eat a delicious dinner, he enjoys spending time with you and listening to you rave about what your friends plan to do for Christmas. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t shake up the feelings of guilt building inside him.
As you head off for work and caroling the next day, he takes advantage of the time alone to do some final holiday shopping. The store clerks at Lumos Living inform him that the shape-shifting pillow won’t be stocked until after Christmas, so Severus resorts to buying a body pillow that changes temperature based on your body temperature. Pillow stuffed in a bag, he apparates to Diagon Alley to find the elusive snow globe. Neither can the Diagon Alley snow globe be found in any of the shops. After carefully inspecting all the other substitutes from Ethereal Embellishments and Hartigan’s, he decides to buy the snow globe with a snowman and snowwoman hugging each other. At least you might appreciate the cheery, adorable faces of the snowpeople.
As Severus wanders aimlessly around Diagon Alley with his store bags in hand, he ponders over whether to get you something from the surrounding stores. His memory flashes back to the first gift he gave you: a red glimmering potion that released tiny floating animals. Nothing has ever made him nearly as happy as when you threw your arms around him and gushed over it for weeks. Instead of buying other items at Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, he resolves to brew something similar to that potion. At least he knows you’ll like it.
Upon his return to Hogwarts, Severus immediately sets up a large cauldron and assembles the required ingredients. Since it’s not an overly complicated potion, he adds extra details to make the gift even more special. Stirring the boiling water and dropping ingredients in as they’re required, he makes the potion sparkle green, gold, and red. After he waves his wand over photographs of you and him, the cauldron releases floating, moving images of the two of you. He smiles as two tiny figures float in the air: you and him standing in front of a zoo enclosure of mooncalves.
He pours the finished potion into a large bottle and mulls over what else he should make using his potion skills. It may be too late to hang new ornaments on the tree, but Severus still decides to make liquid-filled ornaments for the following year. He prepares a potion similar to the one he made earlier, which also glimmers in the cauldron. Then, he transfigures clean potion bottles into the shapes of icicles and eggs and adds tiny, colorful glass pieces to design the eggs. Severus frowns as he inspects his uneven placement of the glass pieces on the eggs, but he hopes the ornaments still look enchanting enough as the potion swirls inside the glass.
Over the next several days, you occupy almost every minute of Severus’s time. As a child, he never built snowmen or lay on the ground and made snow angels. Neither had he been brave enough to challenge the other children to a snowball fight or ride a sled down the small hill near his home. But when you two aren’t relaxing at your cottage or walking hand-in-hand at a Christmas event, you pull him outside and have fun in the snow. A snowman and snowwoman fashioned after the two of you still stand outside your front door, and Severus adjusts their twig arms so they continue to hold hands despite the harsh wind. No matter how many times you ride a sled together, his arms wrapped around your front remain stiff; yet when the two of you roll off the sled after crashing into something, he can’t help but crack a smile. And every evening that the two of you spend together, you walk through an enchanted Christmas wonderland the village of Hogsmeade has set up. Throughout all these festivities, Severus almost forgets how he’s failed in getting all the gifts you want. Almost.
In the middle of the night between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, Severus rushes to retrieve the gifts from Hogwarts and properly package them. With only a candle lighting up the room, Severus hunches over the kitchen table and waves his wand over the wrapping paper. The process of wrapping the Iridescent Ink, notepad, and potion gifts go smoothly. However, he pauses as his eyes roam over the snowpeople globe, temperature-changing pillow, box of tea, and illustrated book. Would it be better to not give you the second-best gifts or not give you a pillow or snow globe at all? Perhaps you would think he didn’t bother to find you everything on your list, so Severus reluctantly wraps up those two things. Along that same train of thought, he covers the box of tea and illustrated book with silver wrapping paper. Before he can overthink the gifts he’s wrapped, he waves his wand and sends them to rest at the foot of the tree.
At precisely eight the next morning, Severus is shaken awake by you. He slowly opens his eyes and sees your eager face and messy morning hair right above him. “Wake up, Sev! Happy Christmas!” you squeal. You kiss him on the lips and scurry out of the room.
Severus yawns and slogs out of bed. When he enters the living room, you run into his arms and kiss him. “When did you put all those gifts under the tree?” you ask excitedly.
“When you were sleeping last night,” Severus says groggily and pulls you close to him. It’s an irrational thought, but he thinks that you might not open up his gifts if he holds you here all day.
You wrap your arms around his neck and gaze adoringly up at him. “You know you’re the best boyfriend, right?”
He feels a twinge in his heart, but he forces a smile onto his face. “Do not flatter me, my love.” You laugh at him and gently push him away before he can hold you closer and prevent you from sitting under the tree.
Severus holds his breath as you sort through the gifts, but then you pull out a package that he doesn’t recognize. You pat the floor next to you and hold the package above your head. “I want you to open all my gifts first.”
He takes the package from you and tenderly runs a hand over the green bow and red wrapping paper adorned with flying hippogriffs. Reluctant to rip away or lazily flick his wand over the wrapping you obviously put effort into, he slowly unties the bow and gently removes the wrapping paper. Inside is a packaged set of books on the Dark Arts, specifically rare volumes that he had expressed interest in several weeks ago. How did you even find these? How did you even remember that he wanted these? Severus looks up and notices the hopeful look in your eyes. He genuinely smiles at you and leans forward to kiss your cheek. “Thank you, my love. You are so very thoughtful.”
“Of course, Sev!” You turn to look for another gift and hand him a package even bigger than the last one. Again, you eagerly watch him as he carefully unwraps the gift. His mouth drops in awe as he uncovers the exquisitely crafted wooden box that serves as a travel potions case. The outside of the box is carved in the design of a tree and when he opens it, his name is engraved on the top section. Jars of potion ingredients are also stored inside the box, ranging from bat spleens to boomslang. You smile shyly at him and say, “I wasn’t very good at Potions, so I don’t know if those ingredients will be useful to you. But I did find a list of ingredients you’re running short of, so I bought those.”
Severus sets the box aside and embraces you. “No, no. This is the most beautiful trunk I have ever set my eyes upon and I am in need of all of those ingredients. You should not have done all of this for me,” he says quietly and his voice even breaks. His heart pounds wildly and his mind swarms with thoughts of how he doesn’t deserve this, how he doesn’t deserve you. You gave him this and the best thing he’s giving you is a silly lovey-dovey potion. Some tears form in his eyes and he quickly blinks them away before you notice them.
“Nope, I would get anything for you, Sev. I’m just afraid that the other gifts aren’t as nice as the last two,” you say as you rub his back. You pull away and summon a small present into your hand. “I know you like practical gifts, so I hope you like this one.”
Underneath the blue bow and icicle-themed wrapping paper, the clear box contains several red rubbers. You laugh as you spot the unintentional look of confusion on Severus’s face. “They’re Flubber Rubbers. I know you can’t usually remove the ink from your students’ essays, but these rubbers actually do remove ink and write encouraging comments in the margins. I thought these would help you stay more positive after Minerva scolded you for being too harsh.”
His cheeks burn and he glares at you, sending you into an even louder laughing fit. “I do not know if I should feel insulted or be grateful, though I suppose I can use these on essays that fall short of atrocious.” Internally, Severus is secretly very grateful that you would try to help him with his work as a professor. He takes in a deep breath and blinks, yet again fighting the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes. How did he ever manage to make you, an angel, his girlfriend?
Your hands grasp onto a large box with a red and green bow on the top, but then you pull your hand back and pass him another present. “I also got this one from Scrivenshaft’s. I hope you don’t already have this one,” you say a little nervously.
Severus cocks his brow as he unwraps the gift, pondering over what you meant by “I hope you don’t already have this one.” Almost every stationery item he owns is from Scrivenshaft’s since he wants to support the shop you work at, but he doesn’t buy unique stationery items. He mostly purchases black and red ink, basic quills, and journals. Perhaps this is a leatherbound journal?
Severus lifts the lid of the box. Inside is what he assumes is a limited edition Christmas quill. He doesn’t recognize the bird from which the feather was plucked, but the feather has been dyed a deep red and flutters to increase and decrease in size. It’s nice, but he wouldn’t choose Christmas quills over basic ones. Why did you get this? Then, it clicks in his mind. Last week, you spotted him in the limited edition holiday quill section at Scrivenshaft’s. You must have thought that he wanted one of those quills, especially the Festive Featherflame.
His lip trembles and he frowns deeply as he holds the quill in the palm of his hand. You notice everything about him, from the wanting looks at potion ingredients to how he lingers around a particular corner of the Dark Arts section of bookshops for too long. Severus now thinks that he isn’t nearly as observant as you are. What if you clearly wanted something, but he didn’t buy it for you because you didn’t verbally express interest in it? How many items has he now missed out on buying? Out of all the things you’ve given him so far, the item he didn’t necessarily want finally forces the tears out of his eyes. Severus’s shoulders shake and he pinches the quill a little too forcefully in his hands. What an utter failure of a boyfriend he’s been.
“What’s wrong? Do you not like it?” you ask quietly, but the concern is loud in your voice. You scoot closer to him and wipe the tears flowing down his cheeks.
“No, it is not that. You notice everything about me and all of these gifts have been incredibly thoughtful,” he sobs. “Meanwhile, I could not even find you all the gifts on your wishlist.” Severus accepts your loving embrace and buries his face in your shoulder even though he knows he doesn’t deserve this.
You pull back and furrow your brow in confusion as you ask, “Wait, what? How do you know I made a wishlist?”
“I found it inside your journal around twelve days ago, I believe,” Severus says shyly and his cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I apologize if I invaded your privacy by looking at your journal. Though I swear that it was already open when I looked at its contents.”
“Hey, it’s fine. I was just wondering how you knew since I didn’t tell anyone.” You push a strand of hair behind his ear and kiss his cheek. As more tears pour down his face, you summon a handkerchief from a cabinet and hand it to him. “You really didn’t have to get me any of those things, Sev. I planned on buying all of them when they went on sale tomorrow.”
“But then what would I have given you for Christmas? You have given me so much and I bought gifts that are unworthy of you.” Although your loving touch has slightly calmed him down, his body still shakes and his voice breaks as he speaks.
“Really, you didn’t have to give me any presents. This is corny to say, but having you here for Christmas is all that I wanted. I didn’t ask you for your wishlist nor did I give you my own since I think it’s better to give your loved ones thoughtful gifts rather than ones they’ve been begging for for months.” You pull away from him and sweep your hand over the gifts under the tree. “I was going to have you open all my presents first, but why don’t you let me open the ones you got for me?”
Severus shakes his head and looks down. “I do not want to disappoint you. I know Christmas is your favorite holiday, so I do not want to ruin your day.”
You sigh and cup his face again. “You could never disappoint me or ruin my Christmas, Sev. The fact that you’re even crying about this shows how much you care about me. You are the best boyfriend I’ve ever had and there is nothing that you can say that will convince me otherwise.”
Severus grunts a “fine” under his breath, but he glows internally at what you’ve said. He decides to hand you the present with the notepad first since he doesn’t want to get your hopes up with the potions present or disappoint you with the second-best gifts.
As you carefully remove the wrapping paper like he had, Severus can tell you’re holding yourself back from ripping at it. When you uncover the notepad, your face lights up and you throw your arms around him. “This is why you were at Scrivenshaft’s without me! You’re so sneaky!”
“You nearly caught me multiple times. Then, I nearly had a heart attack when you said hello to me.” He laughs at the memory and runs his hand over your hair.
“Yeah, you looked pretty nervous.” You join him in his laughter and place the notepad on a nearby table. “What’s next?”
“This.” He points out the small box in golden wrapping paper. He realizes that his wrapping, even when he used a spell to do it, isn’t nearly as good as yours. “It is not special, but it was on your list.”
“If it’s from you, then it is special,” you say with a smile. Normally, he would roll his eyes when Dumbledore makes a statement like that. Yet you say things like that, he rolls his eyes and smiles.
You quickly remove the wrapping paper from the Iridescent Ink and you embrace him again. “Thank you, Sev! I’ll use this to write notes when I’m at home. It’s too special to use at work.”
His hands shake as he hands you the pillow and the snow globe at the same time. Although you promised that this wouldn’t ruin your Christmas or that you wouldn’t be upset at him, Severus’s mind always goes to the worst. You reach for the snow globe first and squeeze the wrapping and padding before opening it.
“Ooh, what’s this? It’s probably something fragile by the feel of it,” you comment. When you spot the cute snowman and snowmen waving at you, you squeal. “They’re so cute! That’s us! And they remind me of the snowman and snowmen outside too!” You run up and place your new gift on the table with your snow globe collection. “You know what? This is even better than the Diagon Alley snow globe.” And that makes a genuine, wide grin break out on Severus’s face for the first time that day.
“I am glad. I hope you like the next one as much.” Once it’s free of its covering, you squeeze the temperature-changing pillow and sigh at how it adjusts to your body temperature.
“I’m going to find a way to make this one Severus-temperature on the nights you’re away. But for now, I’m going to put this in the closet so it doesn’t get dirty.”
After you get back, you open the tea box and the illustrated book. You promise to make two cups of that tea right after opening all the gifts, and your eyes light up at the moving illustrations. He tells you about the store clerk assuming that it was for his child, and you bury your face in your hands and laugh.
“I saved the best two for last,” he says quietly and first gives you the potion ornaments. “I made everything myself.”
You unwrap the potion ornaments and your mouth drops in awe. The liquid swirls inside the glass and casts a mesmerizing glow onto the walls and the floor. You immediately wave your wand and hang each icicle and egg ornament on the tree, then tap them to change the color of the potion inside to match the colors on the tree. Severus anxiously watches to see how else you’ll react, but then feels a surge of relief when you turn to him, tears in your eyes. You embrace him for the millionth time that day and kiss him so passionately that he can hardly breathe. “This has to be the best gift I’ve ever gotten. Either this one or the animal potion you gave me several months ago,” you say breathlessly.
Severus cries again and presses his forehead against yours. “That means you will adore the last present I have for you.” You pick up the box right beside you and tenderly open it. You sniff and continue to cry as you uncover the large bottle. Cradling it in your hands, you uncork the cap and are mesmerized by the tiny images of the two of you floating into the air: clinking your drinks at the Three Broomsticks, standing outside a glowing Diagon Alley shop, and wrapping your arms around him as he sits in his Hogwarts office. Your lip trembles and you sob even louder as you stare at the sentimental gift. With steady hands, you carefully place the bottle on the side table and hug him again.
“I keep hugging you, but you deserve something even better tonight,” you whisper suggestively into his ear and laugh gently. Severus blushes and twiddles with his thumbs, trying to ignore the heat rising in other parts of his body.
Every other present Severus opens jerks even more tears from his eyes: a scrapbook with photos of you and him, a vintage book on spells, and a candle set with subtle Christmas scents.
After you both put your presents away, you brew the tea as promised and prepare a light meal. For the rest of the day, Severus helps you cook roast beef, roast potatoes, parsnips, rolls, smoked salmon, Holiday Blancmange, plum pudding, and chocolate cake. He continually fears that he’ll burn something or start a fire, but everything tastes delicious once you two finally sit down and eat. During the evening, you relax by the fireplace and the Christmas tree, sipping hot chocolate and talking for hours. When you two go to bed, well, Severus receives his last present of the day. Although the day isn’t full of sled riding down steep hills and he never expected to burst into tears as you exchanged gifts, Severus deems this the first perfect Christmas he’s had in his life.
#snape x reader#snape x you#snape x y/n#severus snape x reader#severus snape x y/n#severus snape x you#severus snape#snape#pro snape#cute snape#fluff#fluff and angst#angst#christmas#merry christmas#harry potter#reader insert#happy holidays#christmas gift#angsty snape
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Aegon Targaryen II Headcanons: Your Wedding Night & Marriage *Explicit*
• before you were even married you already knew he had mommy issues, it didn’t take maester level intelligence to put that together
• and had certain.. kinks that resulted from them
• he was relieved when he found out you were still a maiden
• you would be unaware that some of the things he liked to do during sex weren't particularly... usual
• it also meant you were probably clueless about how sex worked and he could shape and train you to please him
• little did he know you had heard rumors of how hungry his appetite is and you snuck out to a brothel before your wedding to gain some kind of insight on how to please a man
• the marriage was arranged and you knew he wasn't happy about the thought of being tied down so you wanted to make sure you'd be able to fulfill his needs and prove to him you were a worthy match
• he was ready to take your maidenhood and had no plans of going soft and slow on your wedding night
• but when he walked into your chambers and saw you waiting on the bed with a nervous look in your eyes, trying your best to act brave, something in his heart broke
• he knew you were just as much an unwilling participant in this marriage as he was and it felt cruel to force himself onto you
• you sort of reminded him of his mother, an innocent girl having to marry the king
• he made a vow then and there that he wouldn't be like his father, he refused
• he told you if you weren't ready to consummate the marriage, it was okay
• when you told him you had no choice, that they needed to see the blood from losing your maidenhood on the sheets, he casually told you he’d cut himself and smear his own blood on the sheets so the small council wouldn't know
• you hadn’t felt such care in so long, your parents had pushed you into this marriage and he was the first one to treat you like an actual person during this whole process
• after he had shown you his true self, you had never been more ready to lose your maidenhood in your entire life
• you thought aegon would be a selfish lover given he was a king and used to everyone catering to him, but you were wrong
• you were different, he knew you understood what he was going through, his instinct to use you for his selfish desires went out the window
• he had never really cared to pleasure a woman with his tongue before but he found he really loved doing it for you and kept going until you had to literally pull his mouth off you
• the biggest grin covered his face along with your cum
• an intense need to satisfy a woman and be praised had overcome him, he wanted a woman to be proud of him
• aegon used to be a loud lover but was quiet when it came to you
• he didn't want to miss a single praise that fell from your lips, your whines and moans of approval were enough to make him cum
• your wedding night taught you a lot of things about aegon, mostly that aftercare was essential and he needed to be kissed and held
• soon after the wedding, the topic of when you would produce heirs came up
• you were worried aegon wasn't ready to be a father and would find a way to secretly slip you moon tea
• you had no clue he had formed the biggest breeding kink after marrying you and couldn't wait to watch your belly swell with his child
• neither one of you could have anticipated how extremely attractive he’d find you when you were with child
• especially when your milk started to come in
• he would pleasure you with his fingers while he sucked on your breasts for hours
• there was no shame, he felt safe knowing you wouldn't judge him
• maybe he just really loved your breasts or maybe it brought him back to a time when people were happy he was born and before he was seen as a disappointment to his family
• either way, it felt really good and you had no intentions of stopping him
#aegon targaryen ii#aegon targaryen#aegon targaryen smut#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen x you#aegon targaryen fluff#aegon targaryen angst#hotd#hotd smut
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Hi!! I have some Dad!Miguel content for you >:)
We all know that Miguel is a very busy man, and I don’t think that would change if he had a kid. So what about teen!reader who got bit by a spider and became spider woman? Reader is recruited to the society without Miguel knowing who we are under the mask. BUT PLOT TWIST!!! We get hurt in a fight and our mask is ruined so he finds out just as we’re passing out from injuries :(((
Happy ending? (Or not, your choice >:) )
Miguel finding out His Kid is a Spider Person
I just wanna let you know I was listening to what was I made for while writing this JUST TO GET THAT EXTRA ANGST
This one is really long so I hope you don’t mind😜‼️
HAHAHA I LIKE YOUR THINKING
Like I can imagine Miguel having a kid who has seen EVERYTHING he went through
The loss of his youngest daughter, him spiraling down from grief, knowing their father willingly left for a while just to be able to be with their younger sister in another dimension
Like that shit took a lot from you, making teen!reader feel… unwanted by the end of it all
Imagine this scenario with me
Reader ALREADY knows what’s happening in the other dimension, worried out of their mind, wondering if their dad will make it out alive
Hurt that he just up and left them. You’re sitting in silence when a portal opens, Miguel walking through it, along with other spiders, some limping, others being carried out
As relieving as it is to see your dad ok, you can’t help but feel disappointed, angry,betrayed in a way when you look at him
None of you guys talk about what happened which causes a rift in your relationship
And now that he’s suffered the consequences of a collapsed universe, we all know Miguel is digging himself in more work in the Spider society
He’s still bitter and angry, mostly at himself, and now his main goal is to protect all universes from any anomalies
But that comes at a price of neglecting you, his only child
You continue your life, Miguel rarely coming home most days. You cook for yourself, clean around the house by yourself, taking care of yourself
On a rare day you decide to visit the spider society, you notice a weird flickering coming from an alley way (so original I know)
Unknowingly, you venture through it, only to find the thing causing all the glitching was a small spider. Finding a small container thrown to the side, you try to capture the anomaly, but the spider had incredible speed, running up your arm and under your shirt
You start panicking when you feel it bite you, immediately swatting it away from your neck
After that, the rest is basically history. You’re too afraid to tell ANYONE what happened, especially Miguel. You know how he is, what he thinks of anomalies.
So you go through these changes in quiet. By yourself, again. You learn how to use your new abilities and start making yourself known in your city
While Miguel is busy with the society, you busy yourself as the up and coming spider hero
Of course Miguel catches wind of this, obviously confused on the new spider person lurking in his dimension
With a new mask covering your face, your able to convince (clumsily may I add) your father that you managed to get thrown into this world after a portal opened
This man literally tries sending you back to ‘your real world’ but Jess tells him it’s better to have you in the team
So your spider journey begins! You get your own watch, become friends with the other spiders, hell you even start growing closer to Miguel, your father, but you never, ever take off your mask
The spider mask gives you a new identity, a new confidence that helps build up your relationship with Miguel
You both go on missions together, the older man kinda taking you under his wing
You guys work well together when capturing anomalies
You’re able to joke around him more often, him scoffing at the dumb ones while you laugh
Over time, he grows to enjoy your presence. He becomes kinda protective of you, constantly telling you to be careful when out on missions
He feels a sense of familiarity when around you, though he can never place his finger on why
He just knows you remind him of someone, your laughter so familiar yet not at the same time
You cherish every moment you have with Miguel, whether it’s sitting in silence while he files some paperwork or dragging him to the cafeteria to eat something
And at the end of the day, you wave goodbye to your friends and pretend to go through a portal, only to swing away from the society back to your home in Nueva York
I feel like teen!reader would be a little bitter over their growing relationship with their dad under a different alias
Why couldn’t you have a normal family relationship with him? Did he prefer your spider version over the real you? It’s still you under the mask but would he be the same if he knew? How would he even react if he ever found out it was you under the mask the entire time?
You only start truly panicking when you get seriously injured during a particularly hard mission
Cut deep on your side and mask ripping, you collapse in pain as Miguel runs to you
Your heaving as short and shaky breaths escape your mouth
Miguel tries picking you up only for you to cry out from the movement
Everything crumbles around you as your dad tries to remove your ruined mask to let you breathe more easily
You stop him from pulling up your mask with a shaky hand, fear laced in your voice
He would look down in worry, you seemed more scared of him seeing your face than of the wound gushing with blood
“Please. Don’t.”
“You need air. I promise I won’t let anyone see your face.”
You breathing quickens as he takes off the mask, your eyes closed in shame, tears falling down like a waterfall
You blearily blink your eyes to look at him, his shocked face the last thing you see before passing out, whether from the pain or from the intense emotions you felt is anyone’s guess
I think after taking you back to headquarters, Miguel would be super conflicted on how to approach the situation
In fact, he’s at a loss for words on what to do
He hadn’t seen you in a long time, but now knowing you were right in front of him the entire time
He would feel ashamed. How could he not know it was you the entire time? Did he even know his own child at this point? What kind of father was he?
When you wake up, there is only two ways this can go
A LOT of talking gonna happen. Maybe even some yelling from both parties
It might end in tears and regret, or it might end in tears and anger
Miguel doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore, and you don’t know to express yourself without bursting into tears
I’ll leave the rest into interpretation for you guys, it really depends on who starts the conversation
It’s either Miguel’s regret or your anger
#I ATE WITH THAT LAST LINE LOWKEY😜😜😜#atsv x Reader#spiderman atsv x reader#across the spiderverse x reader#platonic miguel o’hara#platonic Miguel O’Hara x reader#Miguel O’Hara x Reader#miguel atsv#spider man atsv#atsv#x Reader#atsv headcanons#atsv miguel#dad miguel o'hara
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Your Choice
A/N: I am soooo excited for this. You guys are so sweet 🥹
Summary: When then mating bond finally snaps into place, what are you meant to do when you realise your mate has another in his heart, will you break it off to save yourself, or will your mate be able to save this heartbreak?
Request: N/A but you guys sent me so many messages to ask for a part 2 of His Second Choice? So this is it ♥️ I’m so sorry that this part is kinda short, I swear there will be a part 3 :)
Pairing: Azriel x Witch!Reader, Nessian, Feysand.
Warnings: Mentions of witchcraft. Males wearing dresses. No like seriously. Males wearing dresses.
My Masterlists & Rules
Part 1 — His Second Choice?
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“Should I forgive him?” You asked the figure in the darkness. It tilted it’s head towards you and hummed. You knew who it was. Felt her power. Witches don’t have Gods but they have ancient ancestors. You waited patiently for the answer.
She seemed to think for a moment, crossing and uncrossing her legs, as if contemplating if she should answer. But eventually, her words rang out. “That is for you to decide, for the strings of fate we are attached to, will eventually lead you on the right path. Remember, everyone will hurt you. You have to decide who is worth that pain.”
Without another word, she lifted a hand. A dismissal to most but a sign of caution. One that the many queens had passed down to each other. Go and be free, but be careful. You nodded you head and reached out a hand as the first leader of witches faded out of view.
You’re eyes flew open as you sat up abruptly. You’re pain was gone, the ache in you lungs was probably the aftermath of the terrible coughing fit from before you had passed put. Before you saw her. You blinked back the blurriness in your vision as you let your gaze trail across the room you were in, no doubt one of the guest rooms in the House of Wind.
It was dark, no doubt nighttime. You doubted anyone was awake, but you stilled as the door opened, and the light of a candle streamed into your room, lighting up the darkness, and the face of your so-called intruder.
“Cassian!?” You gasped. Chuckling, he entered the room, carefully closing the door as to not awake the rest of the house, no doubt. He scanned you to ensure you had no more injuries before setting down the candle in his hand and pulling up a chair beside your bed.
“You had us all worked up. Nesta couldn’t sleep at all, I managed to finally get her asleep as long as i promised to check on you every other hour in her place,” A spark of guilt flickered in your chest as you thought of your friends, all who probably worried themselves sick while you were out of it. You leaned back against the headboard of the bed as you sighed.
“What time is it?” You asked and he shrugged. Rolling your eyes you sat up again. “Why aren’t I-” “Dead?” Cassian joked. You smiled. Even while you had your conversation with your long dead ancestor, you had missed the jokes and the laughter, the liveliness of the night court. Cassian was basically your brother and he never failed to make you smile, even when you had just came back from the bridge between life and death.
“Well, Elain took a big kick in the butt when she realised that people ACTUALLY care about you and not her dumbass opinion about you. Don’t get me wrong, she is a lovely girl, but that need to rebel is getting out of hand,” He shook her head like a disappointed father and you almost burst out in a peal of giggled. “Madja managed to keep you stable, the rest was you’re own fighting. Azriel…” He trailed off as your smile seemed to falter. Azriel. Never had you even thought that you’d think of that male and…nothing. You felt nothing. Reaching down to the bond, it was still there, but something felt different. Like it was stretched thin, on the brink of breaking.
Maybe your expression gave it away, because the next thing your knew Cassian had a look of worry written across his face. You shook your head. Asking him wouldn’t be a bad idea though, but, would this sound as stupid as it felt impossible?
“Is it possible for a bond to break?” You asked, he shook his head. “I have never heard of it. However, I had never heard of witches until we first met. It’s possible that you are a special case,” Sighing, you flopped on your bed and groaned into your pillow. Cassian chuckled, picking up the candle and walking out, but not before a quick goodnight.
You turned over after he left, staring up at the ceiling. Tomorrow. You’d deal with everything tomorrow. (A/N: I know this is supposed to be serious, but BET YOU DIDN’T EXPECT IT TO BE CASSIAN HAHAHHAHAHHAHAHA)
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Imagine the surprise on everyone’s face when you pranced into the dining room just in time for breakfast. Nesta dropped her fork, Mor screamed, Feyre’s mouth fell open agape, and Elain dropped her mug. You frowned at a crying-laughing Cassian. Azriel’s eyes followed you and as you reached down the bond, you were met with a wall of unflinching steel. Fine. Maybe you preferred it that way.
“You didn’t tell them did you?” He nodded and you grimaced. Nesta stepped Cassian on the back of his head and he yelped, rubbing the back of his head. She glared at him and the sight made your heart ache a little. Maybe you could have had that. Mor ran towards you and you let out an “oomph” as she embraced you in the tightest hug in all your life. A smile crept onto your lips as you returned the hug.
This was…nice. One by one they came and embraced you in their own way. Feyre gave a calm hug, one that had the care of a friend and the grace of the High Lady. Rhys’s eyes danced with mischief as he swept you up and twirled you around, you protested and hit him but he just shrugged in answer. Nesta slapped your arm first, demanding that you apologise for the heart attack you gave her and Cassian full on carried you over to the dining table where he set you down at the head of the table.
The rest of dinner was eventful, to say the least. You caught up wwith what had been going on the past few days, nothing much, but they had some funny stories to share when Mor and Nesta freaked out and ended up doing retail therapy armed with Rhys's money. They had bought dresses for both Rhysand and Cassian, dying of laughter as they forced both males to stay still while the tailor poked and prodded at them with needles.
"You should see it! Nesta and I manage to save the dresses before they could burn them!" Cassian glared at Mor. "Well, I for one think I looked absolutely delicious," Rhysand purred as he winked at Feyre who choked on her food. That made Cassian blanch as he made coughing noises pretending he was about to throw up at the sight of his High Lord and High Lady.
You laughed at the mere thought of Rhys and Cass in dresses and burst into tears when Rhys snuck an image of Cassian and Rhysand posing in the mirror together, their lips were puckered with lipstick and they had an excessive amount of makeup on. Cassian had even braided his shoulder-length hair into two french braids.
"You know what would have really completed the look?" You remarked, turning the image of the males over and over in your mind. Mor and Nesta smiled as amusement glittered in your eyes. "JEWELRY," You echoed simultaneously. The males paled as they realised, we weren't talking about royal jewels, or luxury accessories. We were thinking about flower crowns, bizarre friendship bracelets and clip-on earrings with tiny flowers and rainbows.
Rhysand and Cassian tried to make a run for it but were quickly stopped by an invisible wall of air, and as Rhysand turned around, a look of mock-betrayal on his face as he glanced towards Feyre's raised palm, the four of you grinned.
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You spent a good portion of the late morning and early afternoon giggling and laughing as you, Nesta, Mor and Feyre surrounded the High Lord of the Night Court and his general with stacks upon stacks of make-up. For Rhysand, his off the shoulder dress was a bright lilac, complimenting his eyeshadow and his dark purple lips. With a bit of help, you manage to get a hold of a bouquet of violet grass which you quickly braided together to form a flower crown. Rhysand struggled at first but eventually resigned to his fate.
Cassian, however, yelled the whole way. Pushing away the illusion neck-lined scarlet red dress that had apparently been the 'most traumatic' thing he's ever seen. He pouted when Nesta applied the bright red make up all over his face, including some little designs on his cheek. And he screamed when he saw himself wearing a rose flower crown with a red-heart charm necklace and an absurd dangling rainbow at his ears.
"No. I am the general of the night court. You shall not degrade me to such lengths," He proclaimed dramatically. You laughed so hard your stomach hurt as you doubled over and began crying-laughing. Nesta tried to console Cassian but couldn't help as little snickers followed her every word.
You were still giggling as Rhysand and Cassian or "Rhysandra' and 'Cassibella' fled the room to change back into their tunics. However， your fun was quickly cut short when a towering presence entered the room. Feyre, Mor and Nesta quieted as you turned towards the door, only to be met with those familiar hazel eyes.
Azriel.
You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think as he entered the room, nodding at his High Lady while his gaze seemed to follow your very move. “I need to speak to you. Alone,” He said emphasising on that last word as Mor seemed to move closer to you. She glanced at you and exchanged glances with Feyre and Nesta. They wouldn’t leave unless you said so, and you were forever grateful for them. But, you needed to do this on your own.
You held Mor’s hands and squeezed it, her eyes gleamed, worry painting them, but you shook your head. You had to speak to him, that much was true. What had occured before you went unconscious still bore a heavy weight on you shoulders and you just wanted to be free.
“Okay,” You mumbled, if not for his fae hearing you highly doubt he would have heard you. “Let’s talk”. And with that, he grasped you hand and you winnowed him away, somewhere you both knew, somewhere that used to seem special.
His eyes seemed to soften as it travelled across the familiar and distant view. You had first discovered this hill just outside Velaris, it overlooked the city at one side, but on the other, there was a wonderful scenery of the trees in the forest as it melded into the horizon where you would watch sunsets and sunrises together.
You’re eyes travelled the picturesque view too, smiling at the bustling sounds of the city that could be heard even from all the way up there. And as you looked to Azriel, a pulse radiated in your chest, warming your soul.
“I know that you may never forgive me,” Azriel whispered, and he knelt in front of you as he clasped both of your hands together in his. “But, I want, no I need you, to give me another chance. I love you, Y/N. I really do, and there is nothing more in this world that I would rather do then court you the way that you houle be courted,” No one would believe the sight in front of you right now, the spy master of the night court begging for forgiveness from a witch.
You expelled the air from your lungs before taking deep breaths, in, and out, in and out.
You were torn between answer, not knowing whether you should give the male a second chance or turn away from the heartbreak that would tear you into pieces. But as you looked into the deepest parts of you heart, looked at your every desire, felt every thought, every heart break, every hurt.
You knew you answer.
“Azriel…”
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taglist: @azriels-mate123 @penguinsworldsblog @hannahx1111 @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @positivewitch @happyseadreams @fuckthatfeeling @meritxellao @xiangping-28 @clarkie-carmody-blog @aroseinvelaris @azrielhours @shadowsinger-654 @azzydaddy @nisa-wisa @cosmic-whispers @cat-or-kitten @thecraziestcrayon
(If your user is in bold I could not tag you, sorry T^T)
A/N: HAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAH HOW YA LIKE ME NOW!? I love you guys…but you really didn’t think I wouldn’t end part 2 in a cliff hanger? Think again :D Love you guys, thanks for all the support <33333
#azriel#azriel imagine#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acomaf#azriel acotar#azriel x reader#azriel x reader angst#Acotar fluff#rhys acotar#cassian acotar#Mor acotar#feyre acotar#nesta acotar#nessian#azriel shadow singer x reader angst#azriel shadow singer x reader#acotar#acotar fandom#acosf#a court of silver flames#a court of mist and fury#azriel angst
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Arlī(Anew)-Chapter 1
Word Count: ~1,644 words
Rating: 18+
Warnings⚠️: Uncle/niece incest
Description: She was not her uncle’s first choice Naery’s knew that, but she would do her duty.
AN: This story takes place from episode 5 onward. I’ve changed things up a bit but I’ve kept the timeline intact.
Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9
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115 AC - Dragonstone
Naerys had been told by her septa that a woman’s place in this world is a precarious thing, but she had not known what it meant until now. She was the blood of old Valyria though she did not feel it. She lacked the true spirit of her dragon rider ancestors. It mattered not now. Today was her wedding day and she had been every inch the Valyrian bride. She knew her duty. Naerys was to be her uncle’s long-awaited prize.
Her uncle’s wife, the Lady Rhea Royce, had died. It had been an accident. Lady Rhea had fallen off her horse and broke her back hawking. A tragedy, but that did not stop the murmurs around court and the Vale. The whispers only grew when her uncle had gone to Runestone to claim his late lady wife’s seat.
The king dismissed them of course. Daemon had been away from the Vale in the Stepstones at the time. Short of him being in two places at once, Lady Rhea’s death was an unfortunate incident. And with it, Daemon was freed from his ill-fated union. Free if he chose to take a woman to wife.
Her uncle did not have to remarry. He was a second son who stood to inherit nothing. Daemon had not been his brother’s heir for years. In that time, king Viserys had more heirs. His eldest daughter had sons of her own now. House Targaryen’s future stood secure, but the prince had made it clear that he intended to marry again.
The small council suggested that a match between the Prince of Dorne’s daughter and the rogue prince would be ideal. She was said to be beautiful, she was an avid rider, her High Valyrian was near perfect, and most importantly she was her father’s heir. A second son could not want more in a bride. Daemon had rejected the match with a chuckle that bounced around the throne room.
A Martell bride would bring him his own seat. It would finally bring Dorne into the fold with the rest of the kingdoms Viserys ruled over, but he had not wanted it. He had already been made to take one wife he did not want. He would not take another. This time around Daemon Targaryen had wanted a wife of his own choosing.
Daemon had informed her uncle’s small council that he wanted a Valyrian wife and Dragonstone. He would take his niece Naerys, his half-brother’s only daughter, to wife. The prince had Caraxes, fought in wars, and he would now have her. His final trophy. A young Targaryen wife. A naive impressionable girl and a seat for them to rule over.
The council had all scoffed at his initial request. “Our niece is too young for you brother,” her uncle, the king, had told him.
“She is not Rhaenyra my prince,” Naerys uncle Lord Corlys Velaryon had chimed in as well. “You will find her wanting.” As she was his ward it was his job to worry over her safety and future marriage prospects.
Daemon’s involvement with the king's heir and oldest daughter, Princess Rhaenyra was an open secret. Though she was herself now married to Lord Corlys son Ser Laenor, with them both being at court it was only a matter of time before the two might rekindle their affections for one another.
Naerys was too sweet. A shy little thing who had seen little of the world outside of Driftmark. She would not be an adequate replacement for the worldly Prince’s true desires. It was not until Daemon threatened to go to Lys, find his mistress, and take her to wife, that the king then conceded much to the disappointment of some at court.
No one had dared to voice their objections once the king agreed to the match apart from the queen and unsurprisingly the princess. Her father had once been the king's hand. Ser Otto Hightower and Daemon had never seen eye to eye. It seemed that the father's grudge had passed onto the daughter. Queen Alicent had tried to remind her husband of his brother’s ways, but the king dismissed her concerns.
Rhaenyra had initially laughed upon hearing the news that Daemon had wanted to take her for a wife. “Let my uncle have his little Targaryen bride,” she had exclaimed with glee to anyone who asked her opinion on the matter. “My dear little cousin and his duties at court should keep Daemon occupied. He will do his duty to his king and his heir.” The meaning was not lost to those around the Red Keep.
“If he wants to plot it will not be easy with the whole court watching him,” the princess had added. Naerys would often find her cousin staring across a room in search of their uncle. The man would sometimes meet her hopeful lilac gaze though his eyes would often drift to a pair of deep violet ones.
Rhaenyra’s tune changed upon finding out that they would not reside in the Red Keep and would be given Dragonstone. She then joined in with Alicent. Naerys own opinion on the match had not been asked for her opinion on her future union with her uncle. In the end, Daemon had gotten what he wanted. A young unspoiled niece for a bride and their family’s seat Dragonstone.
The ceremony itself had been nerve-racking. Her uncle had insisted upon a Valyrian ceremony. Naerys did not know half the words. Her Valyrian had always been less than satisfactory. Daemon had not laughed when she stumbled over the words. He never had when it came to her. Even when her face grew hot at his vulgarity he simply grinned at her.
Naerys had not been able to cut herself nor when the priest had called for the binding. Daemon had to do it for her. Seemingly taking pleasure in her anxiousness as he brought the blade to both of their lips and then hands with a self-satisfied smirk. The feast afterward had been a blur.
“Come here sweetling,” Naerys' new husband had called her once her new lady’s maids had left, breaking her out of her daze. They were alone in her bed chambers. Her uncle had been kind enough to allow the dispensation of the bedding ceremony. There was no need to when they all knew that this marriage would be unlike the prince's first.
Naerys felt the urge to pretend she had not heard him. She had been made to change into a sheer gown that did little to hide her figure. Her aunt Princess Rhaenys had tried to warn her of what might occur on her wedding night, but it did little to calm her. When Daemon called for her again she knew that she could not avoid him.
Naerys reluctantly made her way out from behind her changing screen, her eyes briefly landing on her uncle who stood by her fireplace. The fire's glow bathed him in its warm light and cast shadows across the room. From the corner of her eyes, she could see that her husband's gaze followed her across the room. He did not waste time pulling her into his arms when she finally reached him.
Daemon did not say anything as he stroked her silver curls. For a time they stood in silence. His gaze fell back to the fire. The only thing that could be heard was the crackle of it and the faint sounds of the feast down below.
“I suppose I will need to break you in.” He seemed to be thinking out loud, but that did not stop Naerys from pulling back from him. Daemon did not move to stop her as she turned away to face the side of the room. Her arms came up to cradle herself as her dark eyes landed upon what would soon be her marriage bed.
“Give him heirs Naerys.” Her uncle Ser Vaemond had whispered in her ear before her husband took her away to her new chambers. That is what she was there for. A mere plaything for her uncle. To appease him, birth his children, care for them, and console him when needed.
Naerys was wanted for her blood and what she could offer him with it. She was the blood of the dragon even if she did not feel it. She was a dragon rider. She might have even been queen had her father, but she felt even younger than her sixteen name days at that moment.
“Come niece, I will not harm you.” Naerys turned slightly to see that he held out a pale hand towards her. She hesitated to take it, but her fate was sealed whether she took it or not. She gave into her husband's demand, reaching for his outstretched arm with her small brown one. He laid another kiss on her head when she was close enough. She heard her husband sigh as he pulled her back into him.
“Ao issi gevie byka mēre.” Naerys only made out half of his words.
“Do not worry little wife,” Daemon hummed lightly. He drew circles upon her back with his right hand. It was almost soothing until he began to pull her gown up with his other hand. “I will not mind teaching you.” His hands drifted down to her newly exposed rear making the young bride tense up once more. As she closed her eyes she was confronted with the realization of why they were here, to begin with.
With any luck the sooner they consummate their union, the faster he would leave her and go back to his own quarters. Rhaenyra was with them on Dragonstone. The young bride was not naive. She was not her uncle’s first choice, Naerys knew that, but she would do her duty.
Translations:
Ao issi gevie byka mēre: You are beautiful little one
Ao3 link:
#daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen x oc#daemon targaryen x targaryen!reader#house of the dragon#houseofthedragon#hotd#hotd fanfiction#prince daemon targaryen#daemon targaryen x reader#posting this before I chicken out#daemon targaryen x black!oc#daemon fanfic#daemon targaryen x black!reader#bnhotdfic
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A New Kind Of Normal (Part 6)
Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Drug Use, Mentions about Relapse and Talks About Getting Better After a Relapse
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 2.0K
Summary: Rafe doesn't know if he has what it takes to be the person that Stella and Y/N deserve.
Masterlist
Rafe has been giving Y/N her space, but it didn’t mean he stopped trying to get her to forgive him. He sent letter after letter. Gift after gift. All of them returned. NA meetings, anger management sessions, therapy appointments and calls from Diana all go ignored as he seeks solace in his drug of choice and ways of getting Y/N to let him back into her life. It is safe to say his week is not going so great.
Lucky or maybe unlucky for him, Wheezie and Sarah were still allowed to see the light of his life and would report back to him how she had been doing. Learning how much Stella misses him causes guilt to form in his stomach. He told his father he wouldn’t be the type of father to leave his daughter, but it was his decision that forced Y/N to create that distance. Every fibre of his body wants to hate Y/N for taking Stella away from him and causing Stella pain by doing so, yet he only seems to crave Y/N’s smile and proximity. He craves their late-night phone calls and her reassurance that he can stay sober. The silence on her end makes him believe she has given up on him. That he has no hope of getting back on the proverbial horse. Again, the only thing that can help remove the little voice inside his head saying he isn’t good enough for his dad, Y/N and Stella is the powder the powder that dries up his nose..
After yet another attempt to gain Y/N’s forgiveness doesn’t work, Rafe finds himself returning home from Barry’s with Ziploc bags in his pockets. He has been sleeping in his house in the Outer Banks since his apartment near Y/N’s only reminds him of what he has lost. Before he met Stella, he thought the big house was all he could ask for. That the material things could fill him with happiness. But with Y/N and Stella now in his life, he knows he could not have been more wrong. He begins to feel he will never be happy again without them in his life and he rushes to the closest flat surface.
His hands shake as he tears the bag open, letting the coke spill all over the entranceway table. He takes his credit card out and starts to form line after line. One finger comes up to his nose to block one of his nostrils so the other can inhale the drug. He does every single line until he runs out. Frustration overcomes him when he can’t get the next bag out of his pocket, so he gives up and opts to try to sleep to help dull his toxic thoughts. He is too lazy to move out of the front room, lying down in the middle of the room spread out like a starfish.
——
Sarah and Wheezie find their older brother as soon as they open his front door. Sarah would have walked on top of him if she wasn’t looking where she was going. Both girls knew what had happened and that he wasn’t faring well. They knew he had started using again. Wheezie kneels beside Rafe’s head and slaps him awake. He bolts forward, letting out a gasp of fear. “What did you do that for?” he groans, rubbing his cheek. She looks at him with slight disappointment, “We both know you wouldn’t have woken up if we tried a nicer way of doing it.” “Okay, that may be true. What are you doing here?” he questions. It is Sarah’s turn to reply. “We are worried about you. We know you are using again and you are never going to get sober again if you don’t talk to someone.” He lies back down with a shake of his head, “What is the point of getting sober again if I’m never going to see Stella again?”
Sarah doesn’t respond for a second; instead, she looks for something in her purse. She finally finds what she is looking for and pulls out a piece of paper. Rafe takes the outstretched paper hesitantly. The worry that he is about to read a custody agreement from Y/N fills him with dread. However, he carefully unfolds the paper to find a drawing. The stick figures with pointy hats would not make any sense to most people, but to her father, he knew exactly what they were meant to be. It is a picture of him and his little girl holding hands with witches’ hats on their heads. The big round circle beside him must be a cauldron and the black blob beside Stella must be the cat she has always wanted. The only word he can make out from the indecipherable letters is Stella’s name. Y/N is doing such a great job at teaching Stella to write her name.
Wheezie can see the confusion about the words on Rafe’s face and goes in to translate for him. “It says get well soon. Y/N told Stella the reason you aren’t coming over is because you are sick. You want a reason to get sober?” Wheezie starts to explain. “That’s your reason to get sober again. Yes, you may not be able to see her right now, but that little girl is waiting for you to come back and you are never going to do that if you keep spiralling.” He sits back up to see the picture in a better light. Tears start to form in his eyes as all his feelings about missing his daughter come crashing down.
“She needs me still,” he whispers to himself. Yes, his father and Y/N may think he is useless but Stella doesn’t. She hasn’t forgotten about him and still wants him to come back even after he hasn’t talked to her in a week. That is one thought he doesn’t want to leave his head, except he realizes it always does whenever he seeks comfort from the cocaine. It may help him forget about the pain Ward has caused him, but he also forgets the love he gets from Stella. And that beats every other feeling. He gets up from the floor, pulling the rest of the coke easily out of his pocket now that he can think a little more clearly. He hands it to Sarah, “Get rid of this for me, please?” She nods her head and he brings both of his sisters in for a hug. “Thank you for not giving up on me. I promise I’m going to try again,” he tells them. They both return the hug, Wheezie pressing her head against his shoulder, “We believe you and we are here to help.” He may never hear those words from his father, but he is so glad he has his sisters to give him the support their father never could.
——
“I screwed up, Diana. She’s never going to forgive me.” Diana gives him a concerned look, “Rafe, it’s going to take more than a week for her to forgive you, especially since you only decided to try to get sober today.” Rafe nods his head, playing with the band of his watch. “Right… So you think I have a chance,” he hopes. She gives him a soft smile, “I do. If you give her time and take this one day at a time, I think she’ll come around. Show her how much they both mean to you.” “I can do that. One day at a day,” he repeats.
——
Luna’s Diner feels so much darker with the knowledge that Y/N is angry at him. He knows he should give her space, but this week has been the longest he has gone without seeing Stella or Y/N. He’s nervous as he listens to the little bell announce his arrival. The little girl at the counter looks up from her colouring and her face lights up when she sees who it is. “Daddy!” she yells, running over to him. He picks her up and brings her into a tight hug. “Are you feeling better, Daddy?” He gives her a kiss on the temple, “I am, little witch. Thank you for my card. I loved it.” Rafe sits on a stool with Stella in his lap. She tells him everything he has missed during their week away. Sabrina is now her friend again because they realize Will is a gross boy. Stella and Sabrina are now dating and their wedding is on Monday.
“Uncle Benny and I made sculptures. His was as tall as me,” she recounts, throwing her arms apart to exaggerate. Rafe giggles at how happy she is. The sight Y/N comes back to angers her and she is about to blow a fuse. “What are you doing here?” she grits through her teeth. She rounds the counter to take Stella in her hands. He stands up with his hands in the air to show he meant no harm, “I just wanted to talk to you. And catch up with Stella.” “You lost the right to do that when you rela- when you did what you did while Stella was home,” she argues.
“I know, you know I regret that completely. I will never forgive myself for putting her in danger. I want you to know I’m back on track to getting better.”
“That’s great. But I can’t just trust you like that again Rafe,” she snaps her fingers to iterate her point. “I want you to leave, please.” Stella looks between the two adults in confusion, wondering why it seemed they were talking in code. Rafe looks into Y/N’s eyes and sees the frustrations she feels. He doesn’t want to cause her any more trouble, so he heads toward the door. “Daddy, where are you going? Aren’t you going to play with me?” Stella calls out in a plea. His heart stops for a second and he doesn’t know how to get it to start beating again. He shakes his head sadly, “I’m sorry, little witch, but I have to go. I have work tomorrow.” Stella’s eyes start to brim with tears. “But you didn’t give me a hug yet,” she cries, holding out her arms for him. He looks at Y/N to confirm he is allowed to and she gives a solemn nod. She can’t deny her daughter a moment with her father.
Y/N puts Stella down on the floor and Stella runs to her father. She goes into his arms, burying her head into his neck, “Bye-bye, Daddy. Forever and always?” He returns the intensity of her hug and kisses her. “Forever and always.” Her feet find the floor again and she watches as Rafe leaves her. He turns around when on the other side of the glass, blowing the little girl a kiss. Stella may not understand what is going on between her parents, but she can sense something has changed between them and that she might never see her father again. She goes back to her mother with hopeful eyes, “When can we see Daddy again?” “I don’t know, Baby. I’m sorry,” Y/N hates to say, giving the girl a hug to comfort her.
——
Rafe does not blame Y/N for still being mad at him and for being hesitant to bring her back into their lives. He broke her trust, which is a sacred thing. The gifts were obviously not working and he is honestly glad it doesn't. Thinking back on it, he wants to gain her trust back through actions instead of materialistic things. He isn’t sure how to make it up to her, but he knows he can start a plan. First things, booking his next therapy appointment and increasing how often he sees Dr. Winters. Next, he will meet with Diana and reflect on why he relapsed so he can make a relapse prevention plan. Finally, make a list of possible places to go to rehab if he feels he can’t get sober in his current environment.
Yes, this plan isn’t about getting back Y/N, but it helps him with recovering from his relapse and this will hopefully show Y/N how serious he is. As he writes down his plan, he vows to do everything in his power to gain back Y/N’s trust and show her he will never make the mistake of putting Stella in danger again.
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