#The second is to what I imagine she looks like
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missed you - Chris Sturniolo
summary: where you see your boyfriend for the first time in 3 weeks, all you want is his dick.
contains: cockwarming, fluff, swearing, nsfw
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chris and i have been together for over a year, now that his career is getting busy he takes regular work trips with his brothers, leaving me alone for a couple of weeks.
today is the day where chris finally comes home after 3 weeks, and god have i needed him.
i lay back on chris and i’s shared bed, scrolling aimlessly through instagram as my eyes repeatedly flick up towards the time.
my mind starts to wonder, since chris and i haven’t had sex in 3 weeks i can barely imagine the thinks we are going to get up to.
it turns me on just thinking about it, i don’t even realise the fact i’m squeezing my thighs together desperately. i feel a familiar heat grow between my legs as i let out a sexually frustrated sigh.
click
the door to our house unlocks with a faint click, i shoot up in bed and sprint for the door handle
i swing it open and run down the corridor where chris is standing,
“chris!” i squeal before jumping into his large arms, he lets out a small laugh before wrapping his arms around me,
“i missed you so much baby!” chris smiles before placing me back down on my feet.
“how was it!!” i smile widely, grabbing chris’s hand, desperate for some sort of touch of his.
“mmm, not great” chris hums, dragging his bag towards our room,
“i’m sorry to hear that chris, i have a lot to tell you though..” i say with a small jump.
“do you now?” chris teases, i nod my head with a ‘mhm’
i open the door to our room, “it’s so clean in here.” chris states while rubbing his eyes.
“just for you” i say rubbing my shoulder on him,
“you’re so corny.” he scoffs, chucking his bag in the wardrobe and tossing his shirt along with it, leaving him in just his sweatpants and a red cap.
i jump into bed, the thin fabric of my pyjamas press against my cold skin as i tug the covers up over me.
chris sets himself down on his desk chair, he pulls off his hat with a small sigh before powering his computer up.
i observe as he clicks through the various files on his computer before settling on the one which has all the footage that he filmed this month,
“chris..” i whine quietly,
“yeah?” he turns back to look at me,
“how long is that ‘gonna take you.” i pout,
“about… an hour? maybe.” he replies with a small nod.
i run my hands over my face with a big sig,
“what’s wrong gorgeous girl.” chris smiles,
“i don’t know- ‘m just need you.” i say shyly, chris nods understandably
“need me like how?” he asks, he knows what i mean but his constant need to tease me is taking over.
“need you to touch me.. or something.” i whisper, avoiding all eye contact with chris.
chris stays silent, wanting a better response out of me.
i exhale loudly with a small smile, “i want you.. your dick.”
chris stands up and walks over to me, his large frame leans over the bed as he looks down at me,
“is that so?” he says softly, i nod.
he sits down in bed beside me, his back presses against the headboard as he sits next to me.
“c’mon up.” chris grins, i let the covers fall off of my body as i sit up in bed,
i swing my legs over chris and straddle him, my clothed cunt pressing against his bulge.
“you gotta tell me what you want princess.” he says, looking into my eyes.
“i want to feel you.. inside of me.” i say, “there she is.” chris chuckles.
he tugs down his sweatpants to his mid thighs, his erection springs out as i look at it very obviously
i hover off of chris’s lap for a second to pull my small shorts off, discarding them in the corner.
“you’re so pretty.” chris whispers, i get flustered easily, “stop it chris.” i giggle.
chris wraps a hand around his length, pumping a few times slowly, almost as though he was waiting for me to do something myself.
i take his length into my hands as chris shuffles his back further up the headboard of our bed, sitting him up properly.
i hover up above chris’s tip as i attempt to line his pink tip up with my slit.
“you need some help there?” he asks, i nod, sinking my top teeth into my bottom lip.
he lays his large hands on my waist before pressing me down onto his length.
in the 3 weeks we’ve been apart i haven’t touched myself, it’s not the same without chris. meaning that i’m no longer used to chris’s size at all.
i let out a pathetic whimper as i look into chris’s eyes.
“you’re okay, just gonna give you a little bit at a time yeah?” chris says, all i can do is nod in response.
he lets me sink down further onto him, i feel him slowly getting deeper.
“oh chris- fuck.” i wince from the stretch. chris presses a quick kiss to my lips, “you’re okay, i promise baby.”
“you’re so tight aren’t you.” he whispers into my hair before bottoming out.
i sit fully down on his dick, feeling his tip rest on my cervix.
“w-why does it hurt.” i breathe out with a small laugh,
“you’re just not used to it, ya think?” he smiles, pressing another kiss to my swollen lips.
“yeah, i think so.”
“you wanna just sit here, try something new?” he asks, keeping his blue eyes fixed on mine.
i nod eagerly, letting my head fall towards onto his boney shoulder.
i adjust to his size slowly, chris wraps his arms around my back as he holds me close to him.
“feeling okay?” he whispers, i nod
the sensation of chris so deep inside of me, filling me completely to the brim is driving me crazy. i never want to move from this position.
“this feels.. so good chris.” i sigh, chris lets out a small laugh before pressing a kiss to my cheek.
i sit back up on his lap, earning a groan from chris’s pink lips.
“you like sitting on my cock don’t you?” he teases, reaching one of his large hands up and cupping my jaw, he presses a thumb into my mouth and rests its against his tongue.
i swirl my tongue around his thumb with a smile, “mhm!” i reply eagerly.
i lean back slightly and rest my hands against chris’s thighs from behind me,
“oh fuck-“ chris almost gasps, he reaches out his hand and rubs my lower stomach.
i look down and see a clear stomach bulge, i clench around chris just from the sight.
my eyes widen as i shift around on his lap, my clit rubs against the skin above his dick
the stomach bulge moves around with each of my movements. chris throws his head back against the headboard messily, “fuck you squeeze me so well.”
i let out a loud moan of his name as i repeatedly rut my hips, brushing my clit against his pelvis.
“i’m right here, you got it.” he praises, i clench around his dick and feel the knot in my stomach snap.
all pleasure washes over me, i feel myself release on his length as my cheeks flush.
“oh gosh-“ i pant, letting my head fall onto his boney collarbone.
i feel chris quickly thrust up into me desperately, i let out a small gasp from overstimulation.
“i’m sorry-“ he breathes before thrusting once more, he released inside of me as his hands find my way to my hips,
i feel him coat my insides with a loud whimper,
the only sound in the hot room are our pants, recovering from.. that.
i sit back up and go to pull off of him, “n-no.” chris stutters, grabbing my waist and pushing me back down onto his dick
“chris.. i need to go to get water.” i protest with a cheeky smile,
“no.. i want you to stay here on me.” chris laughs slightly.
“hmm…” i hum,
“please..?” chris whines, looking at me with with pouting lips.
“okay.” i give in, chris lays down onto the bed.
i lay down onto his body, him still buried inside of me, filling me perfectly.
he wraps his arms around me and presses a kiss to my forehead.
"you are so needy" i sigh with a small laugh,
"i mean you do keep giving me what i need.." he teases back
—————
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oooh what about hotch's sister calling spencer to pick her up at the hospital after an accident or something because she doesn't want hotch to know since worry and go into protective big brother mode, but spencer tells him anyway and they both show up and lots of fluff ensues :)
adopted fem!reader, 1.5k
cw for panic attacks
You should call your brother.
You think about it, even pull up his contact, he’s the first person you go to when you need help and he always has been, but lately Aaron has been so stressed you hesitate, clicking the text button by mistake.
You read back his last message.
I can feel myself being spread too thin but there’s nothing I can do to fix it, he’d text. I guess I’m frustrated. But how are you, working girl? New jobs are scary. I bet you’re doing better than you think already. Jack and I are super proud of you
You’d sent him a meagre response. You aren’t always sure what to say to him. Sincerity is easier in person, but even then, he can be terse and deflective; he looks after you and no one looks after him.
You didn’t tell him about work, and you won’t tell him about now. You call Spencer instead. This is a good way to test the almost dating thing, right?
He doesn’t answer. When you call again, he answers on the first ring. “Hey, are you okay?”
“No. Are you busy?”
“I’m not busy if you’re not okay. Two seconds.” There’s a pause where you assume he’s moving from one place to another, perhaps closing a book around his hand, or closing the lid on an early lunch. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m, uh, in hospital. I had a huge panic attack at work and I… thought I was having a heart attack, so I–” You’re so embarrassed your voice turns to a thread. “Sorry, I know it’s so stupid.”
“It’s not stupid, that’s not stupid. How do you feel now?”
“Like someone hit me really hard in the chest.”
“Are you calmed down?”
“Mostly.” You wince. “They want to talk to me about medications. Uh.” You clear your throat. “I want to go home.”
“Angel… I’m on my way, okay? I’ll get Hotch and–”
“You can’t tell him.”
“What?”
“Please, Spencer, he gets so worried, he’s worried enough. And if he finds out I had a panic attack he’ll try and make me take time off of work and that’s just another thing on his plate he didn’t ask for–”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, “please don’t panic. You’ve had a hard morning, panicking again is really gonna hurt. Try and think about things that don’t wind you up, alright? Is there anything you need me to get?”
“You don’t have to come.”
“That’s why you called me, right? I’ll be there.”
You can’t know that he says goodbye and ducks straight back into Hotch’s office, where he’d been, to tell on you. It’s not to hurt you and it isn’t because you told him not to —it’s two parts concern, and one part self preservation. Aaron needs to know and you need him with you, and he also can’t imagine things going well for himself if he kept the news of your stay a secret. The shovel talk plays in his mind.
Aaron’s shovel talk being, You won’t do anything to hurt her, said simply, and with an impassive expression that bordered terrifying. Not overly unaffected, just casual.
You’re laying in your hospital bed with your hands clasped across your stomach when Spencer arrives. He frowns at you in your bed, worse when he sees your smudged makeup and the chafed inside of your wrist where you’ve picked and squeezed at your own skin. Your panic has left a physical mark, your chest aching as you force yourself to sit, and it hurts doubly so when your brother lets himself in behind your nearly-boyfriend.
You don’t have it in you to complain.
“I’m sorry,” Spencer says, reaching down to give you a quick hug as you sit. “I had to tell him.”
Aaron’s hug is similarly apologetic, though much longer. “You weren’t gonna tell me?” he asks quietly, his hand settling at the place between your shoulders. “How do you feel now?”
“I’m fine, I– I really thought I was having a heart attack.”
“That’s common,” Spencer says, “it’s the feeling of impending doom, thousands of people mistake anxiety for medical issues every week.”
Aaron holds you by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” he says. “Was it a doctor that checked you out, or a nurse?”
Aaron probes the name of your nurse from you and promises to be back soon. He seems to have gleaned that the quickest way to get information today won’t be from you.
Spencer goes in for another hug when he leaves, and then, to your delight, a very quick kiss pressed to your cheek. He ducks away after that and sits on the side of your hospital bed, his knuckles gracing the outside of your thigh. “Thank you for calling me,” he says, smiling at you, and better when you smile back.
“Thanks for coming.”
“Of course. I know how it feels, okay? If they want to talk about medication it’s a good thing, but everyone has moments like this.”
“I can’t believe you told Aaron,” you say, giving a weak but playful glare.
“I can’t believe you weren’t going to. He loves you, he wants to know what’s hurting you, no matter how much stuff is on his plate.”
You bite the inside of your lip, contemplative for a few slow seconds. “You think so?” you ask finally.
The hair flicked under his ears wobbles as he nods. “Absolutely.”
You lean forward to readjust his collar and tie. He’s wearing one of his cutesy waistcoats, dark grey over a light blue shirt. His tie has patterns you trace with your thumb, like fish scales. “Sorry, I know you were working,” you murmur.
“I think my boss will forgive me.”
You let your hands fall. Spencer, perhaps picking up on a hint you hadn’t meant to give, takes them both into one of his and squeezes reassuringly.
“It’s harder than I thought,” you confide softly.
“It’s an adjustment period. But maybe it’s not right for you, there. That’s what started it, right? Your job.”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know. I get panicky about all sorts of stuff, but I’ve never had one this bad before. I was a miserable kid, you can ask Aaron, but I really thought I was better.”
He rubs over your fingers with his thumb. “I think we all have stuff that messes us up. Doesn’t mean you’re not better. You don’t even really have to be better. And I… I am here for you, I promise. I know you have no reason to trust me with it yet, but I’ll listen whenever you need me to.”
You think about kissing him. Spencer kisses like he’s suffocating and your air, it’s cliche and undeniably true. Whenever you kiss him it’s like a shock —he steals your breath, he can’t stop himself from grabbing your face, and any other time you’d love it, but right now you just need a peck. You’re hoping he can do those kinds of kisses too.
“Will you kiss me?” you ask tentatively.
He gets the memo on gentleness. You shouldn’t be surprised, your very first kiss was tame, his hand running up your arm as he encourages you forward. Your eyes shutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours, and the exhausting thrumming that’s lived beneath your skin since you woke up numbs to a more manageable ache.
Spencer breaks away. He cups your cheek quickly, dropping it immediately when the door opens.
You shuffle backward nonchalantly.
Aaron gives you a sarcastic look. Really? it says. I wasn't born yesterday.
“They want to give you a prescription for Paxil, honey, what do you think?” He turns his attention to Spencer reluctantly. “What’s her best option here?”
“Paxil could be fine. They didn’t suggest a benzodiazepine? Paxil is an SSRIs, it slows down the rate of serotonin reuptake, basically increasing the effectiveness of your bodies natural serotonin, which could decrease the risk of another attack, but taking it won’t stop her from feeling like this,” —he frowns at your location— “very quickly. Ideally she should have a medication for general anxiety and the option for quicker relief if this happens again.” He smiles at you suddenly, nearly shyly. “If that’s what you want, that is.”
“What are you thinking, honey?” Aaron asks you.
You have the two of them here to look after you while you decide. You take Spencer’s hand gently, desperate for reassurance. “I’m not sure.”
“It’s okay, we’ll work it out,” your brother promises.
Spencer squeezes your hand.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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Hiiii I’m the anon that sent this: Reader gets broken up with by a guy that she actually really liked but in reality this guy was a douchy football player that was rude to her friends (but she didn’t know about that.)
It was meant to be a request if you’d wanna write it!
And id say that Eddie does have a crush on reader.
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
The friend
Y/N waited years and years to fall in love. She grew up watching princesses find their prince, and she wanted to feel that. She wanted to feel loved by someone who chose to, someone who looked at her and would do anything to be with her. Even if he had to fight everyone to do it. She wanted to see what it felt like to be cared about.
To her, Greg did just that. She was smitten with the jockey football player the second he sent her a dazzling smile during a game. It was like his eyes found hers in the crowd, it was fate.
It didn't take long for him to ask her out and for her to say yes immediately. She was swept off her feet and never landed. He was sweet and romantic. He showered her in love and compliments. She thought he was perfect all around.
Eddie and her friends had other thoughts. Greg was two-faced but Y/N wasn't aware of that. Chrissy hated Greg, and she hated cheering for someone like him. He was selfish, cocky, and an ass. It took a lot for Chrissy to dislike someone, and she hated Greg, that meant something.
Eddie had two reasons to hate Greg. One reason was that Greg never had nice things to say to or about Eddie. Greg believed he was trailer dirt and a freak, just like everyone else. But Y/N didn't know that. The second reason was that Eddie was helplessly in love with Y/N.
Did he have the chance to go for it? Definitely but he was terrified. It was scary enough to tell a girl he liked her, but to tell his best friend? He wasn't sure he could handle the rejection.
Eddie and Chrissy grew closer over their dislike for Greg. Chrissy knew Eddie was in love with their best friend before Eddie realized it. Chrissy never understood how Y/N didn't catch on. Eddie was in no way good at hiding it. He stuttered over sentences, clumsier than ever, smiled the second she looked at him, and he'd do anything she asked.
Once Eddie saw her with Greg, he believed that was his sign that they would never be anything more. Eddie and Greg were two completely different people.
When the news broke out that Y/N and Greg broke up after almost a year together, many people had things to say. But no one would say it to her. Eddie felt relieved that his year of suffering was over. But he knew it was a matter of time before some new guy came along. He wasn't sure he could let that happen.
~~~
"I don't understand why he broke up with me," Y/N sobbed. Her head was in Eddie's chest as she soaked his band tee in her tears.
Eddie softly held her in his arms. His chin was on her head as his fingers ran through her hair.
"I don't either, babes." And he was honest. He couldn't imagine ever breaking up with her. She was easily the best person anyone could be with.
"Do you think it's because I'm not pretty enough?" She sniffled, her head facing him as she pulled back away, letting him search her face for the flaws she believed she had.
Eddie smiled and cleaned off her tears with his thumbs. Her red puffy eyes, wet cheeks, and trembling bottom lip. He couldn't lie to her.
"No. I think even right now you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
Eddie was dead serious. A sense of truth in his eyes as he barely blinked. His voice was deep and low, with no sounds of jokes.
The intensity in his face made her nervous and shy. She dug her head back into his warm chest as she held him tighter.
"He's the idiot who let you go."
~~~
Eddie was patient as his best friend recovered from the breakup. Chrissy and Eddie high-fived behind her back, sharing smiles and looks.
"I heard you and Greg broke up! Congratulations that guy was a di-" Dustin's voice was cut off, replaced with a groan.
Y/N turned around confused, Eddie standing next to Dustin with a smile. Dustin held his arm with a whimper.
"Congratulations? What does that mean?" Y/N pushed further.
Eddie and Chrissy looked at each other, trying to think of a fast lie.
"I know someone who likes you! It's a congrats to him!" Dustin said with a smile as he covered his lie. He looked to Eddie for approval and his smile dropped at the look on his face.
"Who?" Y/N perked up. For once, after a long week of crying, she smiled.
"That's not his place to tell. Why don't we go to lunch?" Eddie said, grabbing Dustin's arm and dragging him down the hall.
"That was weird," Y/N said as she turned to Chrissy.
"Why are you smiling like that?" Y/N asked. Chrissy stood with a huge cheesy grin.
Chrissy snapped out of her daydream of Eddie and Y/N finally together. Quick with a lie.
"It's good to see you smile again, now let's go eat."
~~~
Another week passed. Two weeks since her heart was shattered but she could feel herself healing. She had to thank Eddie for all of it. He was always there, holding her as she cried and talking her through everything.
Her mind was still thinking about who Dustin was talking about. The idea of a guy liking her made her feel less insecure. Maybe Greg was the problem and not her. She drew blanks as she tried to think who it was.
She hoped it was Eddie, but that felt like throwing wishes in an empty fountain. She was nowhere Eddie's type. She wasn't edgy enough or listened to the same music he did. She barely understood Hellfire and his ideas. He wasn't much of her type either, but there was something about him that she would never find anywhere else. He was one of a kind and she figured that's why she fell for him so hard.
Eddie never made moves, so she figured he didn't like her. That's why she had no problem going out with Greg. She thought maybe if Eddie showed jealousy, she'd have her answer. But he was just the same, nothing changed.
She was staring at the wall as Eddie woke up from his sleep. His tired eyes took her in. He had his arms around her already, he pressed his chest against her back tighter. She felt her body get warm as his arms squeezed her against him and his face snuggled into her neck. The soft breaths of his nose hitting her skin, his warm body against hers. Do all best friends cuddle in the same bed?
"How long have you been awake?" His deep and tired voice made her bite her lip. She wiggled in his arms, he loosened them as she turned around to face him. She kept herself in his arms, snuggling closer until she was nose to nose-with him.
"I never fell asleep," she whispered
The moon shined into the room, reminding her she had been trying to sleep for hours.
"How come?" He asked, his palm flat against her back as he softly rubbed the bare skin as her tank top slid up. She shivered as his hands touched her skin.
"A lot on my mind," she said truthfully. She admired his eyes. No matter how many times she looked into them, the brown continued to take her breath away. She took in the rest of his face. The bridge of his nose, the red lips she craved to taste. The slight hair growing above his lip, she knew he'd shave in the morning, but she loved being the only one who got to see it. His frizzy hair spread out on her pillows.
"Greg?" Eddie asked, admiring her face the same way she was with his.
"No," Y/N said, "about who that guy is Dustin brought up." She nervously bit her lip as she watched Eddie's reaction.
"Oh, how come?" Eddie asked, he hid his nervousness with a yawn
"Do you know who it is?"
"Uh no," Eddie said his eyes looking elsewhere
"Then why are you looking away?" Y/N smiled, she poked his cheek
He nervously laughed
"I don't know who he is," Eddie said, looking into her eyes as he finished the sentence.
"Such a bad liar! tell me," she squealed excitedly. He groaned as she left his arms. Sitting up, she looked down at him.
"Why do you want to know so bad? Are you ready to move on?" Eddie asked, maybe this was an opening.
"I don't know. Feels nice to know someone else likes me. And depending on who it is, I think I'm ready to give it a shot." She shrugged
"I can't say who it is, but I'll give you some hints." Y/N smiled as Eddie sat up.
"He has dark hair and dark eyes, he admires your beauty. He likes how smart and creative you are. He loves it when you laugh, it makes his heart race. He smiles whenever he thinks of you. And he's been dealing with these feelings for years." Eddie said, too lost in his confession that he was scared he gave too much away.
"So you are close friends with him?" Y/N asked, she turned her head in confusion. She would not believe that any of Eddie's friends had a crush on her.
"I think I said too much," Eddie chuckled nervously and laid back down. His head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes. "Let's go back to sleep."
Y/N thought in silence for a few seconds. She thought long and hard about what he said. The guy he described matched his appearance. Eddie always complimented her looks and laughed at all her jokes. He seemed nervous to talk about the guy, scared he said too much, which meant he was worried she would find it out. He dragged Dustin away when he brought it up, which told her he was worried Dustin would spill the beans.
"Y/N?" Eddie asked, cracking open one eye
It was Eddie
Eddie had a crush on her!
"Y/N" Eddie said again, both eyes open as he went to sit up
But Y/N pushed his body right back down as her lips smashed on his. Eddie's eyes widened in shock as her lips moved against his. Her hands were on his shoulders as she leaned down.
After his shock, he kissed her back. His hands reached up and held her hips. Their kiss grew deeper as Y/N straddled his lap. He sat up, lips still attached to hers. He moved on hand up to her head and pushed her head further into the kiss.
Y/N felt every part of her body light up with electricity. Her hands moved into his hair. Something she spent years wanting to do. His lips tasted better than she imagined. He was soft but controlling. It made her head spin.
Eddie pulled away, his eyes heavy in lust.
"That was...wow." Eddie breathed out, he blinked a thousand times. Believing if he blinked hard enough, this moment would vanish. But to his luck and prayers, she was still on his lap.
"You are the friend," she said, breathy as she still waited for air to return to her lungs
"Uh yeah," Eddie nodded
"Thank god," she smiled before her lips smashed into his again.
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#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson fluff x reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson angst x reader#ashwhowrites
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The Downfall (Oneshot)
[ Hamlet • dark Aemond x Ophelia • female ]
[ warnings: dubcon, sex content, fingering, virgnity loss, violence, suicide, angst, smut, obsession, remorse ]
[ description: When she attracts the attention of Prince Aemond during the wedding feast of his brother and his sister, she knows that something terrible is going to happen. His figure lunges towards her like black storm clouds and she feels that, along with his desire, he will bring on her downfall. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
My other works: Masterlist
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"Tis I who should receive this honour. I, second son, rider of the greatest dragon in the world, experienced in wielding the sword, educated in history and philosophy, 'tis I who should…" He didn't finish, pressing his lips into a thin line. He stopped in the middle of his chamber, not looking at her but at the floor, his eye wide open in rage, his nostrils twitching in accelerated breath.
She swallowed hard, clenching her fingers on the material of her gown as she sat in one of the chairs at the table, fearful of him as usual when he behaved in this way, making her unsure once again how to act.
To endorse his words would have meant betrayal, so she had to remain silent, though her heart was pounding like mad in her chest, a drop of cold sweat running down the back of her neck.
Their betrothal had come as a surprise to her; the prince had caught sight of her at a grand wedding feast held in honour of his brother and his sister, dancing among dozens of other couples.
She dared not look at him, knowing of the arrangements between the Red Keep and Storm's End, not wanting to ridicule herself by begging like some of the women from respectable houses for his attention.
Apparently that was what made his bright, cold, dangerous eye notice her figure and his sight did not leave her until the end of the evening. At first she thought she was just imagining it, then, however, glancing towards the table standing in front of the Iron Throne she met his gaze, his lips curving into a grin that was disturbing to say the least.
She was terrified.
The next day, her father was asked to extend their stay in the Red Keep and enjoy the King's hospitality, though it was not explained to them for what reason.
She was frightened because she understood what it meant and she never went anywhere alone, always taking a servant with her, having heard numerous stories of what Prince Aegon did to women who caught his eye.
She didn't want to see for herself if his younger brother was the same.
It seemed to her that black clouds had gathered over her, that it was a matter of time when something would happen, and indeed, when she came across him passing through the courtyard during one of his sparring sessions, though she turned her head away, his deep, mocking voice stopped her.
"My Lady."
She swallowed hard, knowing that if she didn't answer anything, if she didn't look at him, she would commit a great discourtesy and offend him.
She couldn't afford it.
Therefore, she turned towards him, looking at the ground, seeing only his legs and waist clad in black leather garments, bowing in front of him.
"Your Highness."
She felt for a moment that her heart stood in her throat, the only thing she could hear around her was the clinking of steel and the voices of servants discussing something with each other behind her back. She saw the legs she was looking at move towards her and she closed her eyes.
"What a scared little bird you are. Hm?" He hummed, his voice soft and teasing at the same time, amused, as if he were speaking to a small child.
She swallowed hard and looked up at him – he towered over her with a smirk that was mysterious and unsettling, his healthy eye bright and wide open, his gaze piercing to the core, his lips swollen and full.
She felt herself grow hot with shame.
What was she supposed to answer to such a question?
The prince cocked his head, apparently ignoring her silence, taking advantage of the fact that they were standing so close to each other, watching her as if she were some curious being he had never seen before.
"I watched you dance last night. Did you feel my gaze lingering on your figure?" He asked, and she swallowed heavily, lowering her gaze, involuntarily betraying herself. The Prince grinned under his breath, seeing her reaction.
"You did." He said and looked to the side, as if he wanted to make sure no one would hear what he was about to say, leaning over her ear. "I will marry you."
She drew in the air loudly, shocked and surprised, freezing for a moment, tense, looking at him with big eyes and shook her head, not understanding how he could say such a thing. He, however, only grinned broadly in a way that made her shudder and stepped away from her, turning to Ser Criston Cole, letting him know that they could continue.
Ser Criston gave her one terrified look that told her everything.
She was doomed.
She didn't tell her father about the prince's words because she was convinced that he was mocking her, wishing for certain that she would succumb to him and spend the night with him only to disappear from his life forever. She knew she couldn't let that happen if she wanted to marry any self-respecting lord and decided she would just stay inside her quarters.
And then their betrothal was announced.
There was a feeling of emptiness in her mind as she looked at him, at the wide, mischievous grin stretched across his face as he sat at the table, while his mother, the Queen, spoke to her of the King's decision, apparently persuaded by his son, wondering how she was supposed to tame such a man, tame such a fiery, unpredictable nature.
She was scared.
To her despair, her father had been invited to take on the role of one of the treasurers under the direct authority of the Small Council, which he welcomed with joy. It meant that their family was to stay in the Red Keep, and her betrothed could slowly clamp his claws around her neck.
He followed her like a wraith, sinking her further and further into his darkness, making her slowly melt into one with him, not knowing where his soul ended and hers began.
On the day he was to see his nephews again years later, she locked herself in her chamber, unwilling to watch this theatre of malice and humiliation, knowing what her betrothed thought of them, how often he mused about slitting their throats or gouging out their eyes to later gift them to his mother.
She knew he was furious, wanting to show her off like a pretty object he had in his possession, but she offered him a passive resistance that drove him to the brink of madness.
She drew in a loud breath as he surprised her by silently sneaking up to her chamber at night – she heard the loud creak of the wood beneath his body as he lay down behind her. His one hand took place on her womb, as if he was already imagining in the back of his mind as it swelled from his seed, the other went under her jaw, stroking her skin warningly, his lips against her ear.
"You're hiding from me. You're avoiding me. You move through the keep like a shadow." He whispered, however there was no threat or frustration in his words, which she felt instead in his hand that slowly clenched around her long neck. She swallowed quietly, looking ahead at the night, starry sky outside the window.
She did not answer him.
She rarely used words in his presence.
Unfortunately, this only deepened the state she aroused in him.
A curiosity bordering on obsession.
She tilted her head back and sighed involuntarily, feeling the tickling heat spilling over her lower abdomen as his moist, full lips ran over her cheek, the tip of his tongue leaving a wet, cool trail on her hot skin.
"– I needed you –" He hissed in a trembling voice, pressing his body against hers from behind, his hard, swollen manhood hidden under the material of his breeches pushed against her buttocks, pulsing steadily. Her nipples hardened at his words, a shiver of fear and excitement ran down her spine.
His hand from her womb slid lower, between her thighs, his fingers closed on her womanhood – she knew how he learned these tricks, knew that he had played with whores before he met her, but she couldn't convince herself that she particularly cared.
The delicacy and uncertainty of the movements of his fingers did not match how she perceived him: apparently it seemed to him that one too aggressive gesture on his part and she would fall apart in his hands.
Thus, he merely teased her through the material of her nightgown, waiting as usual for her breath to grow heavy and ragged, for her buttocks to begin to rock to the flicks of his wrist and rub against his throbbing erection.
They both moaned quietly as his hand impatiently lifted the material of her long robe, seeking the warmth between her thighs and finally found it, her pulsing, swollen slit leaking from her sticky wetness.
The fingers of his hand from her neck rose higher, to her cheeks, closing on it in a rough gesture, forcing her to turn her face in his direction – she didn't resist him as his slick tongue burst deep between her lips, as his mouth pressed against hers with a loud, lewd click in a greedy, ravenous kiss that took her breath away.
She let him do whatever he wanted with her lips – he was sucking, licking and biting them, as if he were some kind of animal that had grabbed its prey and wasn't going to let her go until he devoured her.
She didn't care, because her mind seemed to be muffled, as if she was underwater, focused only on the touch of his fingers as they dug into her puffy, delicate folds, teasing again and again her warm, pulsing slit.
Her body tensed like a string, knowing what he was about to do, and then at last the tips of his fingertips broke into her hot, throbbing interior with a quiet click of her moisture.
She moaned a tad too loudly into his mouth, making him sigh deeply into her throat, freezing for a moment, his hard erection slapping impatiently against her buttocks.
"– fuck –" He gasped, startling her completely, letting her go and turning her onto her back, laying on top of her, looking at her with his mouth parted wide, breathing heavily.
She had thought that, as was his custom, he would just simply take out his manhood and make her squeeze it with her hand, touching her at the same time to give her fulfillment.
He, however, after he untied the material of his breeches, grabbed her nightgown with his hands and lifted it above her thighs, making her voice froze in her throat, her hands clasped helplessly on his shoulders.
"– n-no – no, please –" She muttered, knowing that if he took her maidenhood, took what he desired, he would never marry her, would send her and her father back to where they came from humiliated and ridiculed.
"– I need this – I need to feel you –" He breathed out, as if he was in some kind of frenzy, heedless of her helpless attempts to stop him, forcing her to spread her thighs open. She cried out, tilting her head back and closed her eyes as she felt the fat head of his cock begin to push against her swollen slit.
"– no – please, Aemond, please –" She whimpered, raising her trembling hands to his cheeks, stroking his jaw, trying to give him what he wanted, what he was apparently dreaming of in his black, grim mind.
"– you don't understand –" He growled, in a sharp, impatient motion trying to slide deeper into her, opening her little cunt on his throbbing, long erection. "– I fucking needed you today –"
She whined as he forced his way deeper into her body, filling her so much that she felt like he was going to tear her apart from the inside, clenching her fingers against the material of his leather tunic, shocked at how foreign, frightening, painful and exciting this sensation was.
"– I know – I know, just a little bit more – it's almost in – shhhh –" He hushed her, stroking her head with his broad hand as he thrusted his thick root all the way in into her, one last cry of effort left her lips.
She seemed to feel him with her whole being, breathing loudly through her mouth, feeling like she was suffocating, her heart pounding like mad, her whole body quivering in his arms, his lips placing warm, moist, reassuring kisses on her cheek.
"– thaaat's it – there we go – I'm going to start moving now –" He hummed, in a slow, lazy manner beginning to rock with his hips, sliding out of her a little and sliding back in with a quiet click, trying to force her body to adapt to his shape and receive him with greater ease.
He hugged her face to the hollow of his neck, without accelerating or making sudden movements, letting her fingers tighten vulnerably on his back.
"– good girl – calm down and let me fill you with my seed –" He whispered, as if he wanted to soothe her, to reassure her that he took no pleasure in her discomfort and suffering, even though he himself was the cause of it.
She nodded, not having the strength to stand up to him, breathing loudly to relax, to endure what he wanted to do to her. A low, loud groan of pleasure erupted from his lips when he felt it, and his thrusts became a little more sure, deep, loud.
"– g-gods –" She breathed out, feeling with horror that he was teasing a spot inside her from which shivers ran through her, waves of cold terror and hot pleasure surging through her body, causing a complete void in her mind, all she could focus on was the wooden canopy of the bed above her head.
"– yes – ah – so fucking wet for me – all warm and soft –" He breathed out into her ear, licking her hot cheek with his tongue, pounding into her with sharp, deep thrusts of his hips, making her feel the tickle in her lower abdomen, in her puffy lips and in her hard nipples, the bed beneath them beginning to creak loudly.
She felt the familiar hot tension building within her, the tension that he aroused in her when he touched her with his fingers, that, to her despair, she began to take pleasure from this animalistic, simple act of slapping their naked, sweaty bodies against each other.
She tilted her head back and sighed as she let her hips tentatively begin to rock to his thrusts, her hands slid from his back to his bare buttocks, stroking them. He shuddered all over and groaned, blindly seeking her mouth with his own, joining her in a sticky, messy, loud kisses, licking and sucking her lips.
"– yes – yes, just like that, fuck, little one, fuck, fuck, fuckkk –" He gasped, pressing his forehead to hers, slamming into her so quickly and aggressively that he was barely sliding out of her, his thighs slapping against her buttocks again and again, opening her wide on his fat cock.
They both were moaning shamelessly, looking at each other wide-eyed with their mouths open, listening to the shameless, sticky sounds her slick cunt made with each of his thrusts.
"– just a little more – ah – f-fuck, yes –" He groaned in elation, his final, deep, sloppy thrusts prolonging the inevitable, she heard and understood little as a wave of pleasure shook her and something hot spilled deep inside her, their mingled wetness ran down her buttocks.
"– such a good girl –" He gasped, throbbing inside her for a moment longer, filling her with the remains of his spend.
"– Aemond –" She mumbled, feeling her little cunt clamp down on his half-hard manhood, sucking it inside her again and again.
He fell on top of her without strength, panting heavily, and they both remained silent for long time. She finally heard him swallow hard, not even daring to look at her, his face sunk into the hollow of her neck.
"– will you forigve me, little bird? –" He muttered in a weak, deep, trembling voice.
At his question a single tear of sadness, regret and emptiness ran from the corner of her eye down to the side of her face, falling onto his forehead.
He felt it and lifted himself on his arm, wanting to look at her, but what he saw apparently made something inside him break.
He clamped his eyelid shut, swallowed hard and pressed his body against hers, burying his face in the pillow.
She didn't know why her hand lifted and laid on his head, stroking his hair with gentle, calm movements, why she felt a squeeze in her heart, why she wanted to comfort him.
Why she let him stay with her that night, cuddled into to her as if he were a small child.
And then the King died.
Her betrothed walked into her chamber the next day, pale, not looking into her eyes, twitching all over, as if in shock.
"My father is dead…" He began, and her mouth opened wide, looking at him in horror.
"… and my grandfather demands that I marry one of Lord Baratheon's daughters."
She stared at him dully, feeling her heart stop in her chest, her stomach twisting in pain as if she was about to vomit.
"I admitted to my grandfather what I did to you. I refused to let him send you away. You will become a Septa. You will be safe and retain your dignity I wrongfully took from you." He said and flinched hard as she grinned at his words, looking at her in disbelief.
"Do you think I'm surprised? I knew you wouldn't keep your word the day I saw you."
It seemed to her that something in her words broke him, for his lower lip began to tremble without the participation of his free will, his eye turned red, his nostrils twitched in heavy, accelerated breathing.
He was unable to get anything out of himself.
On the evening of the day before she was to leave the Red Keep, she demanded that a bath be prepared for her.
She knew he would come to her, she knew his conscience would not let her go without a farewell, she knew he would want to take her one more time before he abandoned her once and for all.
When she was left alone she slipped under the water, sinking her head into it as well, and closed her eyes, feeling strangely calm as the air stopped flowing into her lungs, a shudder shook her body indicating that some part of her still wanted to live.
It was said afterwards that the prince had found her and pulled her out of the water, that he had sobbed and wailed over her bare body, that he had locked her in his embrace, not allowing anyone to come near her, kneeling with her cuddled into his chest on the cold stone floor.
It was said that after that evening he stopped to speak and leave his chamber, staring dully into the fire for hours, playing between his fingers with a lock of her hair, the only memento he had left of her.
It was said that the prince's heart had died with her.
#aemond targaryen#aemond fanfiction#dark aemond#dark aemond smut#dark aemond angst#dark aemond targaryen#aemond fanfic#aemond smut#aemond angst#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond fic#aemond one eye#hotd aemond#prince aemond#aemond x female#aemond x female character#aemond x oc#aemond x original female character#aemond x original character#hotd fanfic#hotd fanfiction#hotd fic#hotd smut#hotd angst#ewan mitchell smut#ewan mitchell angst
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So you know the movie Ponyo
What I'm really trying to ask is do you know the mother and the father are like a little thing where the mother looks like an epic Sea Goddess cuz she is and he looks like a sad sickly old man
I'm just imagine that Klarion and Danny
Like Danny looks like an epic beautiful star Death god powerful in the way he moves but it's subtle like he's slowly comforting you to death
And Klarion looks like a crazy witch boy with a cat who look like he's out right feral and about to throw a pipe bomb at you just because he can
I'm just imagining what happens is Young/Dark Justice is worried about Klarion he's been gone for a while and they're wondering what he's planning I imagine they're surprised when they see him with a Lazarus pit
It's a specially surprising when electric entity sticks their head out of the Lazarus pit and starts talking to Klarion as the JLD and YJL hide there waiting for Klarion into demand help our power they watch this being completely start flirting with Klarion
I imagine Klarion and Danny's conversation going like this
Danny: Hello there my amazing chaos what have you came to talk to me about this time
He puts his hands up to pick up Klarion and bring him closer to his face
Klarion: It's that stupid Doctor Fate it's like he doesn't understand too much balance can ruin the order of the world I might love chaos but that would cause a chaos I couldn't even control
Klarion sits down and Danny's hands rubbing his head on one of Danny's fingers as comfort
Danny: Oh my love I could always talk to him and get him to try slow it down a bit if that's what you need
Danny's face turns into one of concern as he says that slowly starting to move around in the bigger than normal Lazarus pit that Klarion found for him
Klarion: No starlight me and Teekl have that old fart handled how about you tell me about your day instead did you find any more stars how is the balance between life and death doing for you
Danny puts him back down as a twinkle goes in to his eyes as he lays down in Lazarus water slowly starting to swim around as he say
Danny: oh Klarion life and death has been amazing and there's a new Star nursery that I found out there it's just wonderful
After Danny says that he pauses for a moment and presents to go underneath the water he comes out looking smaller with white hair and still wearing the same clothing he was wearing when he was larger surprising Klarion by grabbing his hands
Danny: oh Klarion my dear I have an idea how about we let Dr.Fate have what he wants for once in his miserable life let him have order without the balance that he needs that should show him that he needs you should it not
Klarion takes a second to think through It after he does he grabs Danny's hands right back
Klarion: that's an amazing idea Danny I'll stay with you in the infinite realms let's see how Dr Fate work without chaos helping him keep the balance
After that Danny kisses Klarion on the cheek using the the Lazarus pits to take him and Klarion to somewhere called the infinite realms
I'm sorry this is my first time really writing out Klarion I don't know how to write out characters that well I hope it was good that is what I really like is YJ and JLD was just reacting to this conversation since like the plan was listen and find information
You bet damn right that Dr Fate would have trouble keeping the balance, and would probably have the justice league trying to find Klarion because he thinks he up to something but in reality Klarion is in the middle of deep space, playing around with the stars as Danny is molding and feeding the baby star nursery to build a new universe in the making.
Dani is probably with him doing looping loops playing with star dust while Dan beat up any asteroids that had bad bacteria and let some of the good meteorites in that has good bacteria, and frozen water inside of them.
By the the time Justice league figured it out, probably the Green lantern, Hal. He probably gobsmacked and godsmacked straight back where he came form accidentally by Danny's star fueled cape.
#i give answers#dc x dp crossover#dc x dp#dpxdc#danny phantom#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp prompt#danny is the ghost king#danny has a space core#klarion
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Got a short and sweet one for ya! BG3 character(s) of your choice reacting to someone going, "Aw, you two look so cute together! You should date!" and Tav—the object of his/her as of yet unspoken affections—just smiles a little bashfully and says, "Yeah, that would be nice."
Sorry it took me a a minute to get to your ask! I had originally wanted to make them longer by including the dates they would go on, but I just scrapped that idea. Maybe if people are interested I could do that part but it would be after I do some more request. Anyways I hope You enjoy the fluff!
(Astarion, Gale, Halsin , Rolan, Wyll, Zevlor)
Astarion
It's always the same game between you two; since the beginning of your journey together, you two are always teasing and pushing each other closer and closer to the edge. It's frustrating that this game continues still. You two have grown closer, having shared in victories and losses, shared in laughs and tears, but despite all this, you and Astarion remained cautious… Instead of sharing your desire and confessing this connection is real, you opt to continue in your flirtatious game of teasing and keeping yourself at arm's length. Perhaps it's childish, but you both are too accustomed to the game to quit now, not when the risk could be so painful…
Sipping on your wine, your eyes lock to Astarions, his crimson eyes watching you with a handsome smirk on his pale lips.
"Are you staring, Astarion, coming to some realizations of the heart?" The smirk widens to a grin that flashes his dangerous fangs. Astarion can't help himself from loving the way you tease…
"Only imagining how your blood must taste after so much wine."-clever as always in a response.
"Sounds like you're trying to bite, giving yourself away so easily now?" you muse as you stroll casually to sit at his side, your eyes never leaving each other.
Carefully, Astarion brushes away your hair from your neck, revealing the bruised mark left by his bite only a night ago. He can't help but lick his lips at the sight, "You're the one who gives themselves away when you ask me to feed from you." You feel your blood rush to your cheeks… He's not entirely wrong.
Brushing your hair back over your neck, trying to hide the evidence and cover the blooming rush of blood to your face, you two are caught off guard by what sounds like a slurring Shadowheart chiming into your conversation, "Aw, you two look so cute together flirting like that. You two should date already." She says with a devious smirk.
You roll your eyes. "Yeah, that would be nice," you say sarcastically; that would be the day…
Astarion studies you for a moment, watching as you roll your eyes and fold your arms to guard yourself further, but he swears he catches a glimpse of something…an opening… Before you know it, you watch him downing the remainder of his wine and taking the game up a notch, "Why not go on a date? Scared after one night alone with me, you will be smitten, darling?"
You give him a challenging look, "Maybe I will. Maybe you will be the one falling for me…" Astarion leans closer to you, "Sounds like a fun challenge… let's go out tomorrow night…"
Shadowheart can be heard gasping and giggling from the growing tension, never one to be out. Down you down your drink next and lean in close enough for only Astarion to hear you, "Fine, but the first one to fall loses… winner gets to bite the other…" Astarions hands tighten to a fist, and excitement fills his eyes with a new spark; you have yourself a deal.
Gale
Gale's breath continues to sound shaky, and his hands become more clammy by the second… He's trying so hard to repress the thrumming in his chest, but it's proving to be quite difficult at the moment. With your body pressed so close to him…he thinks at any moment he could burst into a spectacle of himself…or blow up. It has been a while since he's absorbed something, but teaching you this spell is taking precedence now.
You have expressed wanting to learn magic from him. You had been intrigued that he attended the prestigious Blackstaff Academy, and despite being a fighter and not relying on magic, you had begged for some lessons from a proper wizard. Gale didn't know if it was the fact that he has always liked to teach or that it was you who was pleading oh so sweetly, but he never answered yes to a request so quickly.
Now here you two are, the weave wrapped around you as he carefully guides your body to the proper stances, his hands on your hips that then slide to your hands praying to any god that is listening you don't not his clammy nervousness.
He need not worry, though; the only thing you seem to be able to focus on is the feeling of magic flowing from his fingertips that spark along your skin as he moves your hands. His enchanting voice whispers incantations in your ear, making the tips burn with blush. Gale's lips are so close to your face that all you would have to do is turn your head and give him a look…or even maybe ask him… for a kiss-
"Aw, you two look so cute together! You shouldn't waste time, Mr. Dekarios; you two should date!" The voice is the unmistakable Tarra, who has recently joined the camp and harps on Gale to shave his beard or settle down practically daily.
Gale lets out a long groan, causing you to chuckle. The break in concentration causes the magic weave you two worked so hard to conger to break away. Gale, fully embarrassed, starts to argue with her through hissing whispers. All you can do is giggle at the adorable sight of a man arguing with his tressum as he towers over her small form.
"Mr. Dekarios, you're not getting any younger, you know. If she seems to like you even with that thing on your face, might as well go for it." Gale's face is bright red as he tries shushing her. "Tarra, could you lower your voice? I do not need you…helping!"
Who is he kidding? He could use her nudging him along; it at least helps you finally get what you have been thinking about for a while now. In a surge of confidence, you walk over to the arguing pair, letting your voice break through their bickering: "You know, Tarra, you're right. A date would be nice… If Gale was willing…"
The argument abruptly pauses, and you watch as Gale's face turns three shades redder. He stares at you blankly, eyes wide in disbelief. It isn't until Tarra swipes his leg that he breaks from his daze. "Don't just stare! Ask Tav out; it might be your only chance before they change their mind from your awkward gawking!"
Gale swallows his dry throat, "Meet you at the library tomorrow?" You smile and nod. "It's a date!"
Gale stands there watching your figure as you walk away…." The library…really?" "Oh shut it, Tarra, I panicked!"
Halsin
Another accident, and you find yourself being patched up by no other than the camp's gentle druid. Halsins hazel eyes look like golden pools of honey in the firelight, and you're unsure what is heating your body more, the crackling fire or his hands as they wrap your wounded limps. Though he's a huge man and you're not exactly the definition of delicate, Halsin still treats you with softness and light touches; when you first met, you thought he would be loud and crass…but that wasn't Halsin… so full of surprises for you to discover.
"These accidents keep happening more and more frequently… you're sure you're not just trying to find ways to spend time with me?" you feel your heart stir, and your lips curl into a grin, always so full of surprises… The most recent discovery is his unapologetic flirting…
"Truly, I am just accident-prone. You healing me is just a perk to my affliction." Halsins eyes flash with something, and his face curls into a smile as he finishes your wrappings. "A perk, huh?" Halsins softly brushes his knuckles against your plush thighs, "I could think of better perks to indulge in if you are willing…"
Your stomach ties itself in an excited knot; damn, he needs not to tease you; you're surely to pass out to all your blood rushing to your-…as you go to say something else, two giggling voices break your concentration.
Shadowheart and Astarion have their eyes on you two with broad smiles. "Aw, you two look so cute together…" Astarion coos, then Shadowheart chimes in a second, "You should date..or something to that effect…" You give them a death glare, silently screaming at them not to ruin this moment as Halsin chuckles.
Hearing Halsins laugh causes your heart to swell, and you can't help but utter your response, "Yeah, that would be nice." That makes his laughing come to a halt, feeling your face burning in embarrassment you keep your gaze to the ground.
"Well then…" his large hand lifts your chin, your eyes meeting his, his smile addictive, and then his voice… "Just name the date, and I will be yours."
Lost in the moment your brain evaporates from rational thought to pure desire, "How about right now…"
"Cheeky!" Astarion calls but is promptly silenced by Shadowheart
Halsin leans in his honeyed breath, teasing your ear, "Meet me by the river in ten minutes…"
Rolan
He doesn't mean to stare… Rolan can't help it; you're just so magnificent… Not only are you stunning to look at, but you're also so incredibly kind. Nobody had asked you to start working at sundries you just offered after everything. Rolan couldn't believe that the gate's mighty hero wanted to have a slower-paced life by working at his newly required shop.
Though he should, it only made sense that you would offer to help him with the shop. You had been completely smitten with him from the first moment you saw him at the grove. Your affections only grew the more your paths intertwined, so you wanted to work close by and help him. It was nearly impossible for you to be away from him. He had become one of your closest confidants and your friend.
You hoped your affections would have been evident at this point, but Rolan still hadn't asked you out or attempted to allude to courting you; you're starting to lose hope that he ever would. Maybe fate distended you two to stay just close friends…Maybe he is meant to be in your life, just…not in the way your heart hoped… it's better to have him as a friend than not at all, right?
You try to push down the heart-aching thought and continue to gather tomes for customers' orders. And just like fate seems to have it, the one time you need to finish the order request happens to be on that pesky wobbly shelf at the bottom of a stack right on the top shelf because, of course, it is…
Lea'zel, despite Cal's best efforts to teach her otherwise, is still learning how to stack the books properly… Rolan had given up the task of correcting her when she just clicked her teeth, stating, "As long as they are away, it should not matter, Wizard…" You would have to be a fool to try and argue with her, though Rolan did attempt…
Putting down your stack, you struggle on tip-toes to get the tome down. Despite Rolan's warnings, you stand on the bottom shelf for just the slightest high boost, then it starts to tip…and it's too late to avoid crashing down. Squeezing your eyes shut to brace for the pain of being toppled by books, you find that you don't feel books hitting you. You feel a warmth on your back and a familiar hand on your shoulder.
Looking up, you see Rolan pushing the wobbly furniture back in place as he keeps you pinned between him and the shelf. Turning around, you smile at him as your dashing savior this time around. Rolan gives you a smile in return, but before he can playfully chastise you for ignoring his warnings, a sharp wolf whistle breaks your focus.
"Aw, you two look so cute together like that. You should date!" Rolan's face gets redder, and you feel your voice squeak out of you in surprise. Before he can continue taunting, Lea'zel pinches his ear and drags him off, muttering, "Let them come to their senses finally." Of course, they both noticed before you two did.
In a whisper, you find some courage. "Yeah, a date would be nice…" Your face is as bright red as his. Still pinned, he leans down closer, his hand moving down your arm. "Go out with me on a date…" You bite your lip in excitement. With an eager nod, you say yes. Finally, he asked.
Wyll
You could have asked anyone to spare with you, but Wyll was by far your favorite, and not only because he was absolutely handsome, but also because he was an incredible fighter. Wyll always kept you on your toes and even had some good one-liners and witty remarks. Plus, your mind often wanders back to that time he swatted your rear with the blunt side of his sword to taunt you; a shiver still races down your spine at the thought of some more Wyll spankings…
You two had been clashing swords and swapping excited grins during this match. Finally, with a swift movement, you're able to bat away his weapon and swiftly sweep his legs, making him crash to the ground. You're quick to get on top of him and wrestle with him till, finally, you're getting both his wrists over his head. Your excitement is shown through your smile, matched by Wyll, as your body presses closer to his to keep him pinned and at your mercy.
"What is this? Four to two? You're off your game, Blade of Frontiers." You taunt with a devious smirk. "How do you know you're not right where I want you?" Wyll squirms, making you tighten your grip. You lean down to his face to tease back, but a sharp whistle from Karlach stops you two. "Aw, You two look so cute together~ You should go on a date…or something…" She gives a wink before walking away.
Wyll feels himself blush but smiles as he sees the red rush on your cheeks. You see his grin, and you can't help but smile back down at him. "Yeah, that would be nice." Your sultry words make Wyll's heart feel like it could burst. Leaning down to his lips, Wyll takes the opportunity to free his hands and pull you closer, then flips you to your back, pinning you down now.
"Go out with me…call me old fashioned, but I think I should take you for a date before I ravish you…" With words like that, how could you not agree?
Zevlor
Old habits die hard…and Zevlor's habit is taking long walks around the city, something similar to perimeter checks he used to do back in the day. It's hard to go from having daily routines to nothing strenuous, so he made his walks part of his day, even though walking in a city you see every day dulls after a while.
Though lately, those once quiet walks filled with reflection are a lot more enjoyable now that you have joined him. At first, Zevlor was unsure why you would want to take the sundown walks with him. But he enjoyed your company with him too much to ask at the risk of scaring you off. It's not like you would be interested in an older man like him anyway. It's Best not to get his hopes up.
Little does he know, you're completely enamored with him. He could read a dictionary or do something as dull as pulling weeds, and you would still find a way to include yourself just to be close to him. So when you learned about his daily walks, you were sure to invite yourself. Zevlor, ever the kind soul, was just happy for the company. Your two took your walks together to talk about your philosophy on life, your past, and, much to your delight, some ideal gossip. Zevlor taunted you for being nosy, but you defended yourself by saying that it's always good for a person to be aware of a city's dealings, even if they might seem small.
Zevlor treasured these small moments with you, listening to your endless chatting and hopeful ideas. Sometimes, you would even pass some jokes to get him to laugh. But today's walk was different. He was going to put his feelings forward. Was he going to confess? No… he's too shy for that. He was just going to see if he could hold your hand. That should be innocent enough, right?
While on the walk, you're watching the setting sun shine against his red skin, making the fires of his eyes look golden. You two have slowly started to drift closer and closer, hands softly brushing together, conversation flowing. Then, right as Zevlor is working up the nerve to reach for your hand, he hears someone call both your names.
Turning, you see a cozy-looking Alfria and Lakrissa, hand in hand. "Aw, you two look so cute together! You should date!" Alfria chimes before Lakrissa nudges her girlfriend not to tease. Zevlor feels his face turn marron before quickly clasping his hands behind his back. You think yourself equally blush before smiling and calling back to the two girls, "Yeah, that would be nice!"
The two girls give each other a look before they grin ear to ear at Zevlor's flushed expression. They quickly stroll away to let Zevlor make his next move. With a deep breath, Zevlor grounds himself before straightening his posture and turning to you. "Tav, would you do me the honor and accompany me on a date tomorrow evening…"
You try to bite back your excitement, but with his blushing face and your heart squeezing, you can't help yourself; you feel like you could explode, "Yes! ah…I mean…I think that sounds absolutely lovely Zev…" He hopes you don't notice how his tail starts to wag, and you hope he doesn't see when you shoot the two girls a thumbs up.
#bg3#baldur's gate fic#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction#bg3 fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 x reader#bg3 x you#bg3 x tav#bg3 rolan#bg3 gale#bg3 astarion#bg3 wyll#bg3 halsin#bg3 zevlor#zevlor x reader#rolan x reader#halsin x reader#wyll x reader#gale x reader#astarion x reader#astarion#gale dekarios#wyll ravengard#halsin#rolan#zevlor
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Precious Truths: Part 6
Fandom: Bridgerton
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader
Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.
A/N: I will not be taking tags for this series!
Series Masterlist
Benedict follows you and Lord Montclair with a frown on his face. He seems to love to torture himself when he agreed to accompany Daphne as she chaperones your promenade with the marquess.
His eyes glance down to your arm hooked around the other man's and his brows furrow. Daphne looks up at her brother with a smirk, "Something the matter, brother?"
Benedict suddenly looks away clearing his throat, "No, no. Just, um, thinking about a piece I need to work on."
Daphne hums unconvinced, looking back at you and Lord Montclair, "They do make a handsome couple, do they not?"
"I suppose," Benedict replies as he casts his eyes down, paying more attention to the path rather than you and the marquess.
"Are you upset with me?" Daphne asks, pulling her arm away from her brother's and stopping to look at him.
Benedict looks at her with confusion, "Should I be?"
She purses her lips, "Well, I was the one who introduced the marquess to Y/N and considering your feelings-"
"Please, Daphne, I already endure this from Anthony and Kate. I do not wish to hear more of it from you," he takes a quick glance your way as the distance grows wider between you and he, "I may love her, but I cannot give her what she desires. He can," he nods to Lord Montclair.
Daphne sighs, hooking her arm around her brother's once more, "Regardless, I cannot imagine this being easy for you."
The second eldest Bridgerton sighs, "'Tis not. Hopefully, with time, it will be."
_____________________________
You hide your laughter behind your fan as you walk the path with Lord Montclair. He relays a memory he had of when he was a boy. How he tried to capture a frog and in his attempts, it jumped on his face, causing him to fall into a lake.
"That reminds me of when I was a child. I was probably two and ten years old. Be-I mean Mister Bridgerton and myself decided to sneak away onto a row boat. We had seen a fish into the lake and leaned over the edge too much. We both fell in. Our mamas were so upset with us, but we had a good laugh," you state with a giggle.
Lord Montclair chuckles, "So you have known the Bridgertons for a while?"
You nod, "Almost my entire life. They are like my second family."
"And you are the closest with the second eldest, Benedict?" the marquess asks with intrigue as he guides you to a bench for some rest.
You nod, following him to sit, "Yes. He is my dearest of friends."
Lord Montclair clears his throat, leaning closer to you, "I do not want to seem too forward, Miss L/N, but I think I have made my interest quite clear. Is it safe for me to assume that there are no romantic feelings between you and Mr. Bridgerton considering," he gestures between you and him.
You cast your eyes towards Benedict, who is now entertaining two women in conversation while Daphne speaks with their mama. You feel a twinge of jealousy as the women laugh with Benedict. No. You shouldn't feel this way. He is not yours. He never will be.
You turn back to Lord Montclair and give him a small smile, "I can assure you, my Lord, there is nothing between Mister Bridgerton and myself except for friendship."
Happy with your response, Lord Montclair changes the subject and shares another story of his youth. You nod, smile, and laugh at the appropriate times, occasionally glancing back at Benedict. Every once in a while, your eyes will meet and then look away. Your heart strings tug a little more with each wavering gaze.
It seems you like to torture yourself since you cannot help but keep your eyes away from Benedict entertaining women that wasn't you.
_______________
After your promenade and lunch with Lord Montclair and the Bridgertons, you arrive home to see your father waiting for you.
His eyes were glossy and his body slightly swaying, signifying that he was already drunk once more.
"I heard a marquess is courting you," he practically mumbles out.
"Yes, papa. I am certain he will propose before the end of the month," you respond plainly, no emotion and no love for the man who you are now unfortunate to call your father.
He hums, "And does he know of your...hobbies?"
"He only knows I enjoy reading poetry, not writing it."
"Good. A man does not want a woman who is too well-read."
You bite your tongue, not wanting to suffer from a potential strike to your face like previously, "Of course, papa." You dryly reply and head to your room.
You proceed to isolate yourself for the rest of the day. Although Lord Montclair is exactly the man many women would kill to have court them, you still cannot find yourself to fall for him completely. You don't think you ever could. You've lived a majority of your life loving Benedict Bridgerton, you aren't sure how else to live. Even if Benedict could never love you back, you will still continue to hold him dear in the depths of your heart for you and only you to know.
You didn't lie to your father that you are sure Lord Montclair will propose soon. He had spoke of marriage, children, just your potential future in general. Both of your desires and goals line up perfectly with one another and you are certain he sees it to.
Now only to mentally prepare yourself for the inevitable.
________________
Benedict's heart drops to his stomach when he hears the news from Daphne: Lord Montclair plans to propose to you soon.
Obviously, he knew it was bound to happen. Of course he would propose to you. You, perfect, beautiful, intelligent, cunning, funny, wonderful you.
It was inevitable and it was becoming even more real that Benedict would lose you forever.
It was then that Benedict decided to drown himself in his art. Go to parties, brothels, bars, whatever he can as much as possible to forget the pain in his heart.
If only he wasn't so stubborn and truly listen to his heart and his family. He could be with you and give you everything you want and deserve.
But alas, he was just too blind and hard headed to see it.
Lady Whistledown, however, made it well known to the Ton of how she as well as a majority of Mayfair, expected him and you to marry.
__________________
Two weeks. It took two weeks of courting until Lord Montclair asked your father's permission to marry you. It was an easy "yes" from him, obviously. With the status of being the marquess and willing to pay well over your dowery, well, how can your father refuse?
Even though you were expecting it, you still felt hesitant. Your aunt joined you in the sitting room, watching as Lord Montclair, James, as you learned his name was, knelt down and presented his mother's beautiful ring.
"Mon cher, you have made me so incredibly happy these past few weeks. I think we can have an amazing future together. Will you do the honor of marrying me?"
You know you should say yes. But your mind immediately goes to Benedict. Your best friend, your first love, the man you saw yourself marrying and growing old with. But he didn't feel the same. If he did, he would've courted and proposed to you by now.
It was officially time to let go of your silly fantasies and face reality.
"Yes, of course," you reply breathlessly and James slips the ring onto your finger.
Aunt Eliza lets out a breath of relief, "I am so incredibly happy for you two! I plan to hold a ball in your honor at the end of the week, so be prepared for the fan fair that will be headed your way."
James takes your hand and kisses it, "I shall go. I must begin contacting my family so they can be here for the wedding."
"Of course, my Lord."
James smiles at you sweetly, "You may call me James now, mon cher."
You return a sweet smile back, "Of course, James. Then you may call me Y/N."
"I will see you later, future Marchioness Montclair," he gives you a wink and heads out.
You look down at the ring, the diamond sparkling in the sun. Your aunt rushes to your side and kisses your temple, "You did it, dear. You did it. You will be free soon enough."
You gulp and nod at your aunt, "Yes. I will be free."
____________________
Dearest Gentle Reader,
It seems that wedding bells are to be heard soon with now the engagement of Miss Y/N L/N and the Most Honorable Marquess, Lord James Montclair. The marquess had turned many heads since his arrival with Duchess Bridgerton. Many ladies of the Ton had hoped for a courtship from him. However, it was quite the surprise that our very own Miss L/N, one who has previously rejected the idea of marriage, set her sights on the marquess and lured him with her charm.
As I am sure many of you are disappointed by the engagement, I am certain no one is as disappointed as the second eldest Bridgerton son, Benedict Bridgerton. For we all knew those two were always at each other's side. This author thinks that perhaps the second eldest never proposed to Miss L/N because he knew he could never provide for her as a second son.
Nevertheless, I do look forward to see how Miss L/N will take to the role of marchioness. Will she crack under pressure or will it be smooth sailing? This author waits in anticipation.
Benedict crumples up Lady Whistledown's newest edition, tossing it across the room. His family's eyes are all on him.
His heart rate quickens, he feels a sweat coming on. The walls are closing in and he can't breathe. He doesn't like how his family looks at him with pity. They all know now. They know how he feels for you. There is a chance know how he feels for you now. A part of him hopes that you don't believe what Whistledown has to say. Not everything she says is always factual. Nevertheless, it makes the Ton talk.
"Excuse me," he abruptly stands from his place and Anthony stands with him, "Brother-"
"Please, don't. I need a moment alone," Benedict quickly says as he rushes out of the room.
#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton imagine#bridgerton imagine#f!reader#fem!reader#female!reader
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Hii
A recommendation would be that the reader flirts with Spencer and he is very blushing because of it. The team would have fun with it haha.
Have a nice day!! 💖
ok so this is my first fanfic so i would really appreciate feedback(good and bad).
Ties.
fem! BAUreader, awkward spencer reid, sfw. I imagined early seasons spencer but it is non specified.
551 words.
“Did you know that wearing a tie can reduce blood flow to the brain by 7.5 percent?” Ties. That was how this exceedingly embarrassing rant began, you did that thing you do were you randomly compliment spencer; he loves it and hates it at the same time. Which for someone like himself, a logical man who values concrete answers, does not appreciate. Spencer loves problem solving, he has always been an amazing problem solver, when there was an equation, there was an answer, when there was a question, there was an answer, but the random comments that never fail to tinge his cheeks a rose hue, Spencer Reid did not have an answer for that.
By now Spencer realized he has been spitting useless facts about ties for over 3 minutes, which resulted in his face turning an even brighter shade of red.
“Pretty boy, all she said was nice tie,” Derek’s belly laugh could certainly be heard through the entire bullpen. Great, and even bigger crowd for his humiliation.
You giggle, keeping your eyes directly on his, “no no I love your facts spence, as long as you don’t give me a statistic on coffee and its correlation to some unheard-of disease, I will happily listen to you talk.” You add a subtle wink when you finish talking. Spencer’s bashful expression morphed into one of shock.
“You do?” The pure confusion in his voice added to your melodic laugh.
“Of course Spence, it’s the best part of working here.” While light-hearted, he picked up on the truth behind your words, making a shy grin appear on his face. He pushed his glasses up before realising his hair had now fallen Infront of his eyes.
“Here let me,” and before he knew it, your hand was directly in front of his eyes, pushing his hair out of his view. Spencer couldn’t take his gaze away from you. You keep the silent staring contest between you going. You know you will win; you always do.
“Boy genius, you look like a tomato” Penelope states are she strolls past to Derek’s desk.
“Red? I- I am not red its just hot in here.” His voice goes up at least an octave, his hand automatically travels to his cheeks.
“Okay keep telling yourself that Dr Reid,” you whisper the last part so only he could hear. You hand goes and taps his shoulder, keeping it there for a second longer than what could be considered normal, before moving to your desk, which coincidently is directly opposite his.
“I wasn’t lying by the way. Your tie is really nice. Suits you.” You state nonchalantly, as if that sentence didn’t make Spencers stomach swirl and form knots.
“I like yours too! Wait no.” You were not wearing a tie. Great. His utter screw up made you throw your head back laughing, increasing greatly when you looked at his horrified face.
“Thank you, Spence.” Your laugh slowly morphing back into your staple giggle, “maybe I will wear one tomorrow, and then you can mean it.”
“I’m so sorry,” Spencer felt like a puddle on the floor, but the look of admiration in your face made that feeling run for the hills.
“Don’t apologise, it was very cute. you are very cute” You promise him, nodding your head to accentuate your point.
oh. oh.
a/n
ok so sorry this is so bad but feedback would be very very great thanks!! I have some Aaron Hotchner x readers' coming up <3
I did NOT proof read lets pray this makes sense :)
#criminal minds#bau team#spencer reid#criminal minds fandom#mathew gray gubler#derek morgan#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#penelope garcia#first fanfic#please send requests#this is so bad#doctor spencer reid#girlblogging
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Drabble - Sirius escapes Azkaban at the start of SS/PS and swims to the shack where Harry and the Dursleys are staying.
Just a small exercise I used as a writing warm-up :)
—
Harry had never received a letter in his life.
This was, to Uncle Vernon, the natural order of things. The post came each day, except on Sundays, of course, and over the years, they received plenty of bills, birthday cards for Dudley, and letters from Aunt Marge, but never a single envelope addressed to Harry.
To say that Uncle Vernon was upset that one finally did come to Harry at number four might have been putting it rather mildly, for in his compounding fury, Uncle Vernon had gone to extremes to find a place to which letters were undeliverable. The fury that Harry Potter had received one letter drove Uncle Vernon to hasten them out of Little Whinging and into the car where they spent several days hunting for a hiding place that would restore the natural order of the universe.
Perhaps they had finally found it. The shack was perched atop a small island just off the coast. The Dursleys and Harry had come by boat, braving the freezing waves to land upon the rocks. As Aunt Petunia urged Dudley into the dilapidated shack, Harry halted at the edge of the island, staring off into the distance where mist shrouded the horizon line.
“What’s the hold-up?” barked Uncle Vernon. “What are you looking at?”
“I think there’s another island out there,” said Harry.
Uncle Vernon shot him a nasty look. “There’s nothing out there.”
Harry shrugged as Uncle Vernon followed Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the shack. He could have sworn he saw an outline of something huge, like a tower, in the distance, but the fog was too thick now, and whatever it was had been swallowed up.
Eventually, the chill of the sea battered at his jumper until he was shivering, and Harry felt slightly damp as he resigned himself to joining the others in the shack. By the time he closed the door behind him, Aunt Petunia was already serving their rations which consisted of a packet of crisps and a banana for each of them.
The only boon of the filthy little house was that it seemed to thoroughly depress Dudley who slumped on the sofa and ate his crisps miserably, staring at the spot where he must have been pretending sat a television. Uncle Vernon was quite cheerful, however, pleased that he had brought his family to a place so far removed from society that the postman would never find Harry.
When night fell, Aunt Petunia made up the sofa for Dudley. Harry claimed a threadbare blanket before she could give them all to Dudley, and he found a spot on the floor where he thought the dirt was the softest. Awkwardly, Harry rested his head in the crook of his elbow, trying not to breathe in too deeply the blanket’s stench of seaweed.
The storm outside the shack rattled the wooden walls, and sea spray splattered the windows. This did not concern Uncle Vernon who bid Dudley and Harry goodnight with a slightly deranged smile before disappearing into the second room with Aunt Petunia. Harry, however, couldn’t help imagining a huge wave sweeping the house right into the sea and drowning them all.
Harry tried to settle into his nest on the floor, but he was too cold, the ground was too hard, and Dudley was snoring loudly enough to rival the crashing sea beyond the walls. Harry’s birthday was only a few hours away which might have been something to look forward to, but it seemed too sad to consider that he’d be turning eleven in a place like this. Well, he reasoned, was it any worse than his cupboard?
Harry turned over as lightning flashed through the windows. Dangerous thoughts were occurring to him. Life had never been particularly fair to Harry, which was something he’d come to accept, yet when he really stopped to think about it, Harry wished for a completely different one. Apparently he’d had a different one before because his parents died when he was a baby and left him to his mother’s sister. Uncle Vernon insisted that Harry’s parents were drunkards who died in a car crash, and while this wasn’t particularly pleasing to think about, Harry rather thought he’d prefer loving layabouts to the cold and hostile Dursleys.
Dudley’s stomach growled, startling Harry. Uncle Vernon had forced them all to suffer the depressing meal of crisps and bananas, and it was most certainly not enough for Harry; for Dudley, it must have been merely crumbs. It must not agreed with Dudley either because a foul stench filled the room, and Harry balked, rolling away and stuffing the blanket against his nose. The blanket, however, wasn’t any better. Unable to take it, Harry got up towards the window.
He was expecting to see waves breaking against the rocks, rising with the increasingly swelling storm. He expected to see the rain as it slapped the pane of glass, and perhaps even a jagged bolt of lightning splitting across the black sky. But as Harry looked out the window, he locked gazes with a pair of wide eyes.
At first, Harry thought he was dreaming. A ghastly, emaciated face was looking at him. The thing was horrible—it was a ghost with pale, sunken eyes, gaunt cheeks, and black, lank hair. Harry’s cry was stuck in his throat as the thing stared back. It seemed almost as surprised as Harry.
Then it was gone.
Heart pumping painfully against his ribs, Harry stumbled back from the window.
I’m dreaming, he thought. That wasn’t real. I didn’t see anything.
Harry whipped his gaze to the door. It didn’t have a lock—at least, the one that was on it was broken. He rushed towards it, suddenly terrified. If that thing came in, what would it do? Just because the Dursleys refused to believe that there were supernatural forces in the world didn’t mean they weren’t real and that they couldn’t eat them all.
For several minutes as thunder rumbled and the wind whipping the house, Harry pressed his back against the door. He was hours away from being eleven and he was skinny—a quick meal for a monster. He couldn’t let it get him.
Then, as Harry sat there, he began to feel stupid.
There were no such things as ghosts or specters or vampires. In his exhaustion and hunger, he must’ve invented the vision and convinced himself it was real; when he really thought about it, he was certain he knew he had imagined it.
Eventually, Harry slinked back to his spot on the floor and pulled the ragged blanket over his jeans and jumper, curling into the dirt. If he closed his eyes and squeezed them tightly, sleep would come for him and erase the nightmarish specter from his memory. It would be his birthday, and he would spend it in the middle of the sea.
He thought so, at least.
The door creaked. The crashing of the waves grew louder.
Harry’s eyes snapped open, though he stayed very still, his gaze locked on the empty fireplace. He heard the door close. His heart was pounding so hard now that he could hear it, and he tried to keep the harsh huffing of his breath quiet.
He heard nothing—nothing but the sound of the sea, the howling wind, Dudley’s stomach…
Then, a hand touched his shoulder.
Harry tried to shout; hand clapped over his mouth. A rasping voice was hushing him. Harry tried to shove the creature off of him, screaming into the wet palm. Panic overtook him. He scrabbled for a thin wrist and kicked in his silent, grunting struggle.
“Harry, Harry, please—stop—I’m—I won’t hurt you—” the hoarse voice was whispering. “Shh, please—”
Harry looked up at the creature in terror. Wet, matted hair hung over the specter’s brow, darkening his already shadowed eyes. They stared at each other. It wasn’t a ghost at all, but a man.
“What are you doing here?” whispered the intruder. His gaze flickered to Dudley who was still snoring.
The hand eased from Harry’s mouth. Maybe it would’ve been wisest to scream for help—to bring Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia scrambling into the room, but Harry couldn’t think. This thing—this man knew his name. The man was soaking wet and wearing strange clothing that hung in rags from his skeletal body. His hand stayed clenched on Harry’s shoulder.
“Who—who are you?” breathed Harry.
“Sirius,” he murmured. Harry frowned, not understanding. “That’s my name…” Again, the intruder looked back at Dudley to ensure he was still asleep.
Harry leaned away. The man smelled like seawater, perhaps even more so than the ragged blanket, and he was trembling from the chill. If Harry had not been so terrified, he might have offered the man the blanket, but as it was, he was convinced the intruder was going to do something terrible to him.
“Are you going to kill me?” said Harry so quietly, he was surprised the intruder heard him.
Sirius, so he called himself, shook his head. “No…but I…I shouldn’t have come in… It was only…I can’t…I can’t believe you’re here…” He stopped to cough which he smothered with the crook of his elbow, the veins protruding in his forehead as he tried to keep himself quiet. His eyes were red as they turned to the dilapidated shack, taking in the dirt floor and moldy sofa and the cracked window before they returned to Harry. “What are you doing here?” he asked again, his voice so hoarse, it was hardly more than a hiss of breath. “Are you…safe?”
“I’m fine,” lied Harry.
The intruder frowned. “Are you?”
“You—you should probably go, Mr.—er—Mr. Sirius—”
“Where are your aunt and uncle?”
“They’re just in there—” then Harry lowered the finger he was pointing as he realized what the intruder was asking. Another wave of horror paralyzed him. How did this Sirius person know about Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia?
“Shhh, it’s all right…” said Sirius who must have seen the panic on his face. His hand hovered as though readying it to slap it over Harry’s mouth again. “I’ll leave… I shouldn’t have… I only wanted to…” He swallowed. A bead of water dribbled down his nose as he tilted his face at the ragged blanket. “Why are you sleeping on the floor?”
It was the last question Harry expected.
“Er—I—there wasn’t anywhere else to—”
BOOM.
Harry jerked; Sirius’s hand gripped his shoulder painfully. They both stared at the door in bewilderment.
Fear shone in Sirius’s eyes as he turned to Harry, urgently whispering, “Harry, what I’m about to do—don’t tell anyone. Please—I beg you to keep my secret—”
Another boom! shook the shack.
“Secret?” said Harry.
Dudley was stirring behind them. “Where’s the cannon?” he said.
Sirius said nothing more—he couldn’t say more—because when Harry blinked, in his place was no longer a man but an enormous, jet black dog. The dog faced the door, hackles raised, growling softly as the pounding continued. Harry gaped, sputtering at the dog—
“Who’s there?” a voice roared.
Uncle Vernon had rushed into the room clutching a rifle, aiming it at the door. Aunt cowered behind him as he warned the intruder to stay away or he’d shoot, but either the newcomer did not hear or they did not care, because in the next moment, the door flew from its hinges, crashing to the floor as a gigantic man, the largest Harry had ever seen in his life, ducked through the doorway.
The dog shrank away—the dog that was really a man—slinking behind Harry. If he meant to hide, he was far too large to disappear behind Harry…
Uncle Vernon yelled. The giant, however, was unperturbed as he bent and put the door to rights, fitting it back into the frame. He turned to face them, his wild black beard and hair sopping wet and beady black eyes sweeping over the shack.
“Rough seas. Not easy getting’ here in a storm like this. Could yeh make some tea?”
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BOB AND BUN PLEEEEEASE! Sick and stubborn bun, bun having a meltdown and Bob helping or Bun and Bob aquarium trip where she info dumps all about the sharks and he is just heart eyes 😍 ~nursesainz
beb you know i can't resist these two (I have also decided that her father is Beau Simpson btw)
Bob and Bun
In her defence, she wouldn't have been like this if her father didn't insist on seeing her. She would have been laying in bed, sipping water between naps.
But no, her father had called her in and she had to say yes.
That morning Bob watched as she rushed around, getting dressed and doing her makeup. She didn't look well, that was clear. But the makeup made her look (and feel) slightly less dead. "Bunny, please," he said when she raced past him.
He grabbed her wrist, holding her still as he pulled her into him. "Stay here today, tell your dad that you're sick. He'll understand."
The noise that was pulled from her lips was pathetic and she hated herself for it. "I can't," she mumbled and pulled away from him. Grabbing one of Bob's jumpers, one that was reserved for their lazy days on the couch, she fished her shoes from the bottom of the wardrobe and pulled them onto her feet.
Bob couldn't help but feel as though he was marching her to the chopping block, being the one to drive her to see her father. He kept his hand on her thigh as he drove her, thumb moving in such a soothing way that she was falling asleep.
When Bob pulled up outside of the office, he didn't want to wake her. He was gentle as he squeezed her hand and called her name. "C'mon, Bun, we're here," he said as her eyes moved open.
Placing her mouth into the crook of her elbow, she coughed. "Bun," he whispered, dropping her hand.
It was no secret that they were together, but Bob was, admittedly, a little scared of Beau Simpson. His boss was Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell, and Pete's boss was Beau Simpson. "I love you," he said quietly as he stopped at his office door.
She didn't hear him as she headed towards her fathers office.
Bob didn't know what happened in that office. He could only imagine that she was too sick to have a proper conversation. That was how it looked when they were in the bedroom that morning.
What was stopping Bob from marching down there and dragging her home? Oh, because she was Beau Simpson's daughter. Because Beau Simpson would pull out his gun and blow off Bob's head the minute he opened the door.
Bob didn't mean to flinch when his phone rang. But he had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that it had startled him. Him. Bob Floyd, the arms dealer for the Dagger Squad.
"Yeah?" He asked when he answered the phone.
"Simpson wants you," said his receptionist.
Fuck. Bob was out of his seat within seconds. He slipped his phone into his pocket and marched out of his office. When he walked down the hall, somebody tried to stop him to discuss ammunition of all things, but Bob ignored them and continued on to Simpson's office.
He sucked in a breath and knocked on the door. "Enter," Beau Simpson called.
Bob pushed open the door and walked into Beau Simpson's office. He tried not to let his eyes move to his Bunny, looking ready to drop at any minute. He kept his eyes on Beau Simpson, sat forward with his hands clasped together.
"Floyd," Beau Simpson said, his voice low. Bob swallowed. "My daughter is sick. Now, I was going to ask for Cyclone or Maverick to escort her back to her apartment, but she insisted that, for some reason, I call my arms dealer."
Bob couldn't help but look to her. His Bunny. She'd asked for him specifically.
"Now, I don't want to know why she's calling for you, Floyd. Just take her home and make sure she gets better," he said and returned his eyes to the paperwork in front of him.
Bob swallowed. "Yes sir," he said said and approached her.
"Floyd," she mumbled and reached for him.
He said nothing as he pulled her to her feet, supporting her as he walked her out of the office. "Oh, Bun," he whispered the moment the door to her fathers office shut.
"I've let him down," she mumbled as they walked out of the building.
Bob shook his head as he fished his keys from his pocket. "You haven't, Bun. Not in the slightest. You can't blame yourself if you're sick."
The noise she made gave no indication as to whether she agreed or not. She climbed into the car and Bob felt her burning forehead. A frown crossed his face.
He drove her home much in the same manner that he'd drove her there, hand on her thigh, thumb moving in a soothing manner that had her sleeping. He didn't have the radio on and kept the A/C vents turned towards her.
He didn't wake her until he absolutely had to. It was gentle again, soft voice, gentle touches. Bob helped her to get into the apartment, his grip on her tight but still gentle. "Let's get y' in bed," he mumbled and took her to the bedroom.
The moment Bob sat her down, she laid down on the bed and shut her eyes. She kept her eyes shut as Bob got her changed into her pyjamas. "Y' want something to eat?" He asked and she nodded.
"Toast, please," she mumbled as she crawled beneath the blankets. "With butter and some tea?"
Bob took care of his Bunny. He got her toast and tea, and sat with her while she ate. When he felt her burning forehead he grabbed a wet flannel and pressed it to her skin.
"I've got you, Bun," he said again and again that night.
Bob tried to kiss her. He tried to lean down and press his lips to her own, but she turned her head away. "Floyd, stop it," she mumbled as she pushed on his chest. "I don't wanna get you sick."
"Don't care, Bun," he replied as he laid beside her, fingers moving through her hair. "You can take care of me when I get sick.
She thought about it for just a moment before she kissed him. It was just for a second, less than a second, before she pulled away and turned, facing away from him. "If you get sick, it's on you," she said and he kissed her shoulder.
TGM Taglist: @biancathecool
@finnydraws
@writtingrose
@afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff
@mp0625
@xoxabs88xox
@nurse-sainz
#bob floyd#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd fluff#bob floyd x you#robert floyd#robert floyd imagine#robert floyd x you#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd fluff#top gun#top gun maverick#tgm#top gun fanfiction#top gun bob#robert bob floyd#bob floyd fic#mafia!bob#mafia!au
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BLUE / simon riley
my very, very late submission for @glitterypirateduck simon "ghost" riley challenge. this was heavily inspired by the new billie eilish song of the same title because I thought it fit him so well. i used the prompts "face touching", "the heat goes out and it's freezing", and "a confession is made"
simon ghost riley x female reader / 1106 words / contains angst, alcohol, and smoking
WITH every patron that hurried into the bar, cold and snow blew in with them—leaving those even in the darkest corners of the bar chilled and draining down more liquor. The drink spilled through her veins, warm and potent as she waited another hour, shrunk away in the shadows with her cost pulled tight. Simon wasn't coming, she knew better than to keep waiting for him.
Finishing her glass of whiskey, she lets it sting her throat the same way the tears in her eyes did. With remorse, she sets the glass down and rises from her chair. Through the crowded bar of happy couples and friends, someone's celebrating a birthday, another girl is sobbing in the corner with her friends trying their best to comfort her. The whole room pulses with life, feelings, love, and hate and she can't seem to find herself amongst the crush of emotions. Dull, apathetic, and removed as she slinks out of the door and into the blue moon night.
Winter still holds a fierce grip over Manchester, spilling white flurries in the air as she walks down the quiet streets with a cigarette to warm her from the cold. If he were there, they'd be sharing the smoke and she'd be warmed by the blushed haze that always befell her when their hands brushed exchanging the cigarette.
Her hand fumbles with her phone, the bright, blue light warning her of how late it was. But even with the early shift she had in the morning, she loiters along her route imagining he’ll be waiting by her flat like Simon would sometimes do. Giving her the delusion that he cared enough to come looking for her, even if he couldn't be bothered to grab drinks with her.
Despite all logic telling her not to bother with a call, she finds the number that she's left a hundred voicemails for. Sounding desperate and pathetic with every call as she tries to convince him into calling her back.
“Hi, Simon. It's me… again. I'm just calling to check in, I haven't heard from you in a week and I just want to make sure you're alright. Okay, I'm going to go, I'm at my flat. Call me, please.” The sound of the voicemail being replayed causes her to cringe, maybe he'd never hear it like he never hears the rest. Maybe he's got a new number, that was the type of thing someone as shifty as Simon would do. But she can't find reason in his sudden absence, no foreseen notice of a deployment or mission. No text to tell her he'd be unavailable. Nothing.
When she rounds the gate into her apartment complex, she can see in the low light of the second-floor walk, the lone figure waiting in front of her door even though he had the keys. Burly hands shoved into the worn pockets of his jacket with head tilted down as she climbed the stairs to join him.
She didn't need to see Simon’s face to know that he was thinking. Always thinking about the past he refused to tell her about. One that she could only dream up, trying to picture what had happened to turn him into the man he was. The man who she desperately tried to get over, but couldn't move on from.
“I waited for you. It's the third Wednesday of the month, or did you just forget?” She asks, stubbing out the cigarette on the melt railing. The frame creaks as her fist tightens around it in frustration. “Simon?”
“Was busy with work, forgot to call.” He shrugs, pushing his hood back and shaking out his dark blond curls. A rough, wartorn face that she'd memorized like the back of her hand. It was so enticing to her, mesmerizing with his pale lashes and dark haunted eyes. The type of man that kept her safe at the bar and kept her up at night in stress.
“You're always busy.” She holds back a scoff, knowing arguing never got anywhere with Simon. He'd go silent with every accusation she'd throw, leaving her intimidated and guilty for yelling. Even if she knew he deserved it.
“It can't be helped. Times are tough.” Simon responds, his eyes trailing over her as she moves to unlock the flat. Fumbling with the lock like she did with the phone until his hand reached out and steadied her grasp. He leads her into the apartment like it was his own, with an empty place on the coat rack for his jacket, and a spot next to all of her shoes for his boots. An indent left throughout her home for whenever he'd find it in him to return.
“Would you like a drink?” She asks, still feeling the need to play hostess as if he were a stranger visiting for the first time. At the edge of her seat waiting expectantly for a response and reaction.
“Sure.” He shrugs, pulling off the cloth mask as she shuffles into the small kitchen. Tiny enough that when he joins her there's tension as she tries not to bump into him. Pretending like she wasn't up the night before craving the warmth he gave, the firm touch of his hands, when her space heater died.
“I am sorry, love. I'll be there next time, I promise.” Simon apologizes, watching as avoids his presence like the plague. She chewed the inside of her cheek, knowing that she'd accept this apology like she'd done before. Knowing full well he never changed, and she’d never ask him to.
He reached out, sensing her indifference, and cupped her cheek in his calloused hands. That touch always turned her into mush, clay for him to mold to his will and whims. She knew it was pathetic how easily she swayed for him, knew that her friends always criticized her for being so weak-willed. But how could she possibly say no to him when he always came back, even if it was days late? Wasn’t she better off with him than trying to find someone else to love, wasn’t the heartache worth it?
“You could do so much better than me, sweet girl. Sometimes I wish you would.” Simon confesses, his voice low and full of regrets. He turns his head down towards her, wrapping her close in his arms, taking the glass of water out of her hand, and setting it down.
Her mouth opens to speak, but no words form when she realizes she’s just as guilty as him. She’d never change, he’d never change. Together, they’d stay unmoving, frozen in the longest, blue winter.
#glitterypirateduck#cod challange#ghostchallenge#call of duty#call of duty mw2#simon ghost riley#cod mw22#ghost#fanfic#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x f!reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley
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No Negotiations (Thomas Shelby x Reader - One shot)
Summary: Tommy thought he had been very careful keeping his relationship with YN a secret, but no, his number one enemy had discovered you. And these things rarely playout well in the world of the Peaky Blinders.
Word count: 1807
Warnings: Quite a few F bombs and quite a bit of angst. Maybe it ends well, maybe it doesn't.
A/N: This fic was a request and it's been a long time coming. I'm so happy to finally post something again.
Gif: I don't know who this Gif belongs too, but I'd love to give credit to the creator if anyone knows.
Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.
If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.
It was a particularly complicated time in Tommy’s life. There were a lot of different things going down. Dangerous things. And it most definitely was not a great time to be dating anyone. But YN wasn’t just ‘anyone’. To Tommy, she had very quickly and very unexpectantly, become everything. For the past year, it was YN that kept him sane during the whole fracture between his family. And with Luca Changretta still plotting his revenge against every single member of the Shelby clan, he thanked God that he had kept her completely separated from his family and business life. She was his escape. With her, his existence was simpler, uncomplicated. Cherished. Every secret second he stole by her side recharged him, settled him in ways he could never have imagined. Every night spent warming her bed gave him hours of blissful dreamless sleep. So, when he looked up from the ringside during the Goliath vs Bonnie Gold match to see her seat empty, he found himself unable to breathe.
Tommy started the night in good spirits, just happy knowing YN was there. Even if she was sitting anonymously across the opposite side of the hall, finding his thoughts already caught amongst the quiet moments he would steal away with her at the end of the night. When Arthur grew concerned of the men in Goliath’s corner, he urged him not to worry, to calm down and enjoy the match. And even when one of the men disappeared from ringside and Arthur felt the need to investigate, Tommy thought it was his older brother’s paranoia taking hold. But when Arthur didn’t return before the second man in Goliath’s corner slipped into the crowd, Tommy instantly found his stomach in knots, his eyes gravitating to YN’s seat.
It was empty.
Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe she had slipped away to the ladies. Or maybe she found herself completely disinterested in boxing and left to wait for him at their hotel room. Or maybe the growing knot in his stomach told him something much more unthinkable was taking place. Jumping from his seat, Tommy wasted no more time, easily slipping through the crowd, following the same path as Arthur.
It was unnervingly quiet walking down the passage and into the back rooms of the venue, Tommy barely registering the excitement of the crowd as it faded into the background. Only interested in the silence around him. But it was too much. Bellowing out both YN and Arthur’s name, his voice echoed and bounced off the tiled walls around him, his call answered by a gun shot. Tommy’s blood ran cold. The deafening sound vibrated through every cell in his body as if it had pierced his very flesh and Tommy couldn’t escape the hollow feeling that YN was somehow tangled in the mess.
Tommy moved desperately in and out of doorways in the direction of the gunshot, finding nothing. Until he turned the corner into a dimly lit room. But there was no mistaking what he saw, and he knew the scene before him would be forever burnt to his memory, causing him instantaneous regret. Arthur hunched over, visibly shaken as he clutched at his blood-stained neck, working hard to regain his breath. But he was alive. And beside him lay one of the men from Goliath’s corner, in a pool of his own blood, his face half blown away. But it was YN. Standing in that very same room, a room she was never supposed to be in, that had the regret burning like fire in his throat. Backed up against the cold tiled wall her whole body was trembling, arms outstretched as her hands clamped around Arthur’s pistol; knuckles white.
Tommy stepped into the room, startling her. Terrified, her trembling body swung around to face him, waving Arthur’s pistol unsteadily in his direction. All her features were overcome with fear, drained and washed out, his regret now burning bitter in his mouth. Moving towards her, he outstretched his hands, recognition dawning across her face. And when he whispered her name, she fell apart.
Simultaneously, the pistol slipped from her fingers, as her body slid down the wall, Tommy reaching her before she hit the floor, cradling her head, whispering against her ear, “It’s okay… you’re okay. I’ve got you.” Shaking his head, he found it hard to keep control of his voice, guilt ripping through his words, “I’m sorry… I’m so fucking sorry… I didn’t want this for you… I…” Tommy felt sick seeing her this way. Because of him, she had taken a man’s life, she didn’t deserve that kind of burden and there was nothing he could do to take it back.
“Tommy.” Arthur’s hoarse voice broke through his stupor. Looking across to his brother, he was no longer hunched over, but was instead standing before him, a steady stream of blood running from a gash to his neck. Speaking again, he gestured to the body on the floor, his words rough and strained, “I don’t know who the hell she is, Tommy, but he was tryin’ to drag her out the fuckin’ door.” Running blood-stained hands through his hair, he rubbed the back of his head, “I ripped her from his grip, but he fuckin’ got me Tommy, he had me… I’d be dead. She saved my fuckin’ arse.”
Tommy shuddered, not even allowing himself to think about what might have happened if Arthur didn’t reach her in time, all while he was too busy ignoring his brother’s concerns. Sudden gratitude spilled from his mouth, “Thank you, Arthur. You were right… I didn’t listen, but you were fucking right.”
Arthur crouched down, and whispered as if there were people in the room who could listen, “Who is she Tommy, and what does Changretta want with her?”
Surely the fact that he was on the ground cradling YN was explanation enough, but Tommy answered anyway, “She’s my girlfriend… I love her… that’s the all reason he needs.” And it was those words as they left his lips, that brought about an instant and upsetting decision.
Luca Changretta was no longer a threat. He had been dealt with in the most final way. Until the moment Arthur unloaded a bullet into his head, Changretta thought both Arthur and YN were dead, leaving Tommy’s exit plan for the mafia boss sailing through without a hitch. But there was still one thing left for Tommy to do. Something that tore at his insides, just thinking about it. But there was no other choice.
It was necessary.
Staring at YN’s front door, he took a deep breath, unable to put it off any longer. Lifting the iron knocker, he tapped it against the timber and cleared his throat, waiting for the sound of her footsteps and yet, hoping not to hear them. Never had he waited at her door with such trepidation, any stress or worries usually melted away the moment his eyes caught sight of her house. Always far too confident that he’d never been seen. God, he had been so fucking stupid.
YN opened the door with one of her breathtaking smiles, she was not going to make this easy. Fuck, he was going to miss those smiles. Burning the image to memory, he went to speak, but she leaned forward and planted a kiss to his lips, her sweet voice announcing, “Thomas Shelby… you’re late, you’re never late.” Tommy inhaled deeply, knowing that soon enough he wouldn’t be able to recall the sound of her voice, when what he really wanted was to wake up to it every single morning.
Internally nodding, Tommy realised she was right, he had been putting this meeting off all afternoon, and when she stepped aside to let him come in, he found his feet cemented to her doorstep, his voice lost upon his lips. Seeing his hesitation, her features suddenly clouded with apprehension and concern. And it tore him to shreds. “What’s wrong, Tommy? What happened?” Grabbing his hand, she pulled him inside, sitting them both down in the parlour, “Tell me, what’s going on?”
Tommy didn’t want to be inside her house, he wanted to drop the news and leave, but she deserved more, so much more. Chewing on his lip, he inhaled deeply and cleared his throat, working hard to keep his voice convincing, “YN… I… I can’t be with you anymore.” YN jumped from the seat as if he’d slapped her. Tommy’s eyes shifted to the floor, concentrating on a scratch in the timber beside his foot, “It’s not safe anymore… people know who you are now… I… I’d never survive if something happened to you... I’d never forgive myself.”
“Tommy!” A few seconds of silence followed before she called his name again, “Tommy… you need to look at me!” This was not a good idea, no good could come from seeing her face, but how could he deny her? After everything she had given him over the past year. All those stolen moments and blissful memories… memories that would keep him functioning during all the lonely nights that would follow without her.
Lifting his head, he kept his gaze unfocused, worried her expression might destroy his resolve. Not that it mattered, her words and tone conveyed everything. She was furious. But she didn’t raise her voice once. “No… No Tommy.” Her comment snapped his eyes into focus and the determination he saw; on her face; in her posture, it took him by surprise.
Shifting in his seat, he couldn’t think, couldn’t stop the internal wall of his will from crumbling, with every word she spoke. “I won’t let you do this. I could die crossing the road today. I could get sick tomorrow and die next week. I could die giving birth or fall asleep and never wake up.” Drawing a breath, she shook her head, it was barely noticeable, “People die every day, Tommy, there’s nothing we can do about it, but I’m not going to let you give me up.”
Knealing down, her hands enveloped his face, demanding his attention, “I’m not going to miss out on a life with you, how ever long or short that may be… Do you not think I’m terrified of losing you too?”
Tommy shook his head, but his wall of resolve was gone, and he knew the words he spoke were no more than white noise, “My life… it’s dangerous… Just being with me is-”
Losing patience, she cut his white noise short with unyielding hands, refusing to let him look away. Her eyes were fierce. And her decision was final. There would be no negotiations. “Just shut up Tommy, stop talking. I love you. And I know you love me…. I’m not stupid, I know the risk I’m taking. But for you, I’m willing to take it.”
#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby#thomas shelby fanfic#thomas shelby imagine#tommy shelby fan fic#tommy shelby imagine#peaky blinders x reader
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High Infidelity
Regulus Black x f!reader, Sirius Black x f!reader (mentioned)
warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, slight mention of fingering, underage drinking, cheating sorry guys i couldn’t stop myself
summary: your boyfriend sirius and his friends have never felt welcoming. but his little brother is…
word count: 5.3k
a/n: once again i’m bad at summaries so basically you fuck regulus spoiler alert hahaha. inspired by taylor swift of course. she’s been inspiring too much smut from me tbh. anywaysss. hope you enjoy (my sneaky link “broke up” w me today and i’m devastated) so here’s this !!!
~~~
April 20, 1978
“That’s precisely what I was thinking Moony!”
“Are you sure Padfoot? I got the understanding that it was you and Prongs who shared thoughts.”
“I second that.”
“Honestly I believe if James didn’t have Lily, you blokes would be together.”
“Definitely.”
“Well, Sirius also has y/n as well.”
You felt the boy beside you brush your shoulder with his, and you gave him a smile. “Oh, yes.”
The conversation continued, but you zoned out once again. You played with the vegetables on your plate and tapped your foot. Anxiety was a common thing you felt during meals with your boyfriend and his friend group. They were wonderful, but you always felt they had something secretly against you.
You were a year younger than your boyfriend, you were in Slytherin, you were pureblood, and you were cordial with the other members of your house. You weren’t stupid enough to believe the Marauders didn’t suspect something bad of you, or the Gryffindor girls. Some of them were muggle born and while you didn’t care much for blood purity, you could tell they thought you did.
When you and Sirius had begun dating a few months earlier, you were far from oblivious to the initial disapproval of his friends. You could see the skeptical looks Lily would share with her friends; you could hear the small whispers in classes. It didn’t bother you at first, in fact, you understood their distrust. You thought it would go away with time. But by the end of your second month dating their friend, you realized it was never going to change.
Your relationship with Sirius in short was far from perfect. You liked him, of course, and he liked you. However, it was clear neither of you saw it lasting forever. Deep in the corners of your mind, you’d thought it that before, a life with the infamous Sirius Black. You imagined the two of you would get your own flat after you graduated, you’d be shunned of course by your family, but it wouldn’t matter because you’d have him. Realistically though, you knew that life would never be possible. If he didn’t care enough to tell you why he sneaks off on full moons, if he didn’t care enough to let you in on jokes, if he didn’t care enough to even assure his friends fully that you weren’t like the rest of your house, you’d never have a life with him.
Without thinking about it, your eyes drifted across the great hall to a certain person in your house. He sat straight with a smile on his face as he conversed with his mates. A piece of his hair was in his eye, you watched as he brushed it away. You always wondered why people said he wasn’t as good-looking as his brother. He was just as handsome in your opinion. He was tall, his eyes were starry, and his black curls were never frizzy. His accomplishments spoke for themself. Top of the year, star seeker for Slytherin, prefect, he was the ideal boy. His only flaw in your eyes was his obsession with Voldemort and blood purity. Though your family and his were close in that aspect, you never cared much for the topic. He did though.
Suddenly, his eyes met yours. You watched his smile falter for a few seconds and a different expression formed. You looked away quickly, your cheeks turned pink. That wasn’t the first time you’d been caught staring at Regulus Black during dinner. It was far from it.
~~~
That night you sat alone by the fire in your common room. You’d been invited up to Sirius’s dorm with a promise that the other Marauders wouldn’t be there, but you declined. Sirius was a great shag; it would be impossible for him not to be with how many girls he’d been with. Truthfully, you didn’t like the number of girls that came before you, but you never said anything. You simply weren’t in the mood that night for any more patronizing looks, so you opted to silently work on homework instead.
After some time of working, the door opened. You instinctively looked up and found your pulse quicken as you were met with the beautiful eyes of Regulus Black. He was with his friends, Barty Crouch Jr, and Evan Rosier, but his eyes were on you. You looked down at the sheets of paper in your lap and pretended to not notice the sound of Regulus telling his friends to go up to their dorm without him. When they left though, you were forced to drop the act.
“I thought you’d be up in the Gryffindor tower with all your blood traitor and mudblood friends,” he said after taking a few steps closer to you.
You swallowed and kept your eyes on your paper. “I wasn’t in the mood, and they aren’t really my friends.”
“Really? Y/n you’re shagging my brother I’m not daft.”
He was slowly getting closer; you could see his shoes in your peripheral vision. You subconsciously held your breath. You kept your composure as well as you could.
“Great observation Reg, not as if the whole school knows that. And besides, since when have you cared about that?”
“I always care when someone with blood as pure as yours taints it with someone like my blood traitor brother,” he replied as if it were obvious. “Plus, if you have forgotten I’ve caught you staring at me at least a dozen times within the past month.”
Your cheeks turned bright red. “About that-”
“Look at me.”
His sudden authority made a warm feeling spread in your stomach. Slowly, you lifted your head to look up at him. He was close, barely a foot away. There was an expression on his face you once again couldn’t fully understand. You watched him examine your blushing face in silence.
“Go on then, explain yourself,” he said after a few seconds.
“I didn’t mean to; it was just an... accident,” you mumbled, your eyes moving around the room as you spoke.
Regulus tisked and without warning bent down slightly and gently touched his fingers to your chin. You were speechless. “I prefer to be looked at when spoken to y/n it’s a sign of respect. Can you do that?” You nodded and he moved to his previous position of standing. “Continue.”
“Like I said it was an accident, I sort of space out a lot and I guess my eyes go back to our table,” you continued. You stared in his eyes the entire time as your heart began to beat in your ears.
“I would’ve believed that if it had happened only once or twice, but this has been quite a few times. What is Sirius not fulfilling you enough?”
“No, it’s nothing like that he’s great I just... I dunno. You’re just...” You found it hard to speak with his eyes on you. “I dunno all right? Let’s just forget it’s ever happened yeah?”
It was the truth. You really didn’t know what it was that made you stare at him. It was just something. He fascinated you with his complexity. Sirius was outgoing and popular, but Regulus was closed off and reserved. He’d only had one known girlfriend in Hogwarts, he only talked to his friends, and he was mysterious. He was the opposite of his brother. And you found it perplexing.
“If you say so,” he spoke after a moment. Then he turned and started to walk toward the staircase to the boy's dorm. But before he was too far, he looked back at you with a sliver of a smirk. “You can talk to me though, if you need to. You don’t have to simply stare because my brother is insecure.”
He disappeared up the stairs before you could reply. And you spent the rest of the evening with his words replaying in your head.
~~~
April 22, 1978
You sat at lunch; Sirius’s arm was draped over your shoulders, and he shook as he laughed hysterically at something James said. You tried to put on a fake smile, but you weren’t sure how convincing it was. There was something about the way Sirius held you that made you feel off. You felt almost trapped. You felt as though you were being tested or put on display.
As if it was a sixth sense, your eyes looked at the one table you’d been purposely avoiding. He was already looking at you, it caused your breath to catch in your throat. For a few seconds, the two of you stared at each other, what felt like a mutual feeling of understanding was communicated through your eyes. So, when he nodded to the doorway you understood completely what he wanted. And you agreed.
“I’ve got to run down to my dorm I just remembered I forgot my essay for McGonagal.” You made up an excuse. From across the hall, you noticed Regulus already walking toward the exit. “I should go get it before class.”
Sirius dropped his arm from your shoulders and smiled. “You’re too forgetful y/n/n, but be quick I was hoping to get a quick snog in before that dreadful class.”
“Right, I’ll be as quick as I can,” you said as you stood up. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek, ignoring the eyes that were on you. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”
“I could never!” He exclaimed as you began to walk away.
Truthfully, you weren’t too sure of where Regulus went. You relied on the gut feeling in your stomach to guide you. With anxiety and anticipation flowing through your body, you made your way down a few halls before you found an abandoned classroom. The door was open a sliver, and somehow you knew it was the one.
He was inside, leaning on one of the desks with his arms crossed over his chest. “Close the door.”
You didn’t hesitate to listen to his request. Once it was closed you turned back to face him. “I don’t... I don’t really know what to say.”
“You looked like you needed to escape, you don’t have to talk,” he replied. His face was almost soft. “Am I the only one who knows how you feel?”
“You don’t know how I feel,” you mumbled.
Regulus rolled his eyes. “Just because you haven’t told me doesn’t mean I can’t read your face. It’s almost unbearable how miserable you look while you sit there. Why do you do it?”
You only stared at him, almost starstruck. Has he always been so observant? Or was your pain noticeable? You didn’t know what came over you, but you only acted on it. Before you could stop yourself, you moved across the room until you were barely a foot away from him. Regulus has always been perceived as cold and rude, but in that moment, he looked at you with sincerity no one could deny. Regulus knew you. That was all it took.
Without another thought you grabbed his tie and crashed your lips on his. His lips were soft and warm. Unlike his brothers, Regulus’s lips didn’t feel as though they’d been kissed thousands of times. He felt far less welcoming but nevertheless inviting. But your senses came flooding back fast and you pushed yourself away from him.
You stepped back and covered your burning lips with your hand. “Oh my... I’m- I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have. Fuck I’m terrible.”
“Y/n-”
“No, I can’t do this. I have to go.” You cut him off as you began to move to the door, tears forming in your eyes.
The last thing you heard was Regulus calling your name before you ran down to your dorm.
~~~
April 23, 1978
He was watching you. You could feel his eyes burning into you through every class and meal. Is that how he felt all those times you’d stared at him? It was uncomfortable, to say the least. You tried to pretend he wasn’t, you really did. But it was nearly impossible. You made sure you were accompanied by Sirius or one of your other friends throughout the entire day until you weren’t.
You were just running to the bathroom. You thought it would be quick enough for him to even notice you slipped out of class. It was stupid of you to think that. Just as you were about to enter the girl's bathroom, you felt a hand grab one of your wrists to stop you.
“You can’t avoid this y/n,” he said softly.
You inhaled sharply, refusing to look at him. “Let me go Regulus.”
“I don’t care about what happened and I’m not going to tell on you if that’s what you’re worried about,” he replied quickly.
“Then what do you want? I just- it was a mistake all right?” You felt your heart pounding in your chest. His hand was still on your wrist, your skin practically burned from the contact.
“Look at me.” His voice was hard. You turned slowly to look at him. His expression was soft, he looked almost... worried. “I know we’ve never been that close, but I suppose I’m now involved in your issues. You can talk to me; I want you to talk to me. You can’t keep all of whatever you’re feeling built up inside. It’ll only make you act out impulsively like yesterday.”
You let out a shaky breath. “It was a mistake. It should have never happened I was just... overwhelmed.”
“I know. And I don’t blame you.”
You hated how he said just the right words to make you fold completely.
“They don’t trust me. Even your brother. They seem to think I have some deep plot or that I want to murder the muggle-borns. It’s just... it’s too much Reg. I hate being constantly watched, it’s like they’re waiting for me to make a wrong move that proves their theories.”
“So, why don’t you leave?”
His question caught you off guard. Why didn’t you leave? You hadn’t really thought about it. Sure, you knew that you and Sirius were going to end eventually. But you hadn’t given much thought to how it would occur. Perhaps a mutual agreement? You didn’t know. And you told Regulus exactly that.
“Well, then it’s your fault you feel this way,” he replied.
You scoffed and pulled your wrist from his grip. “Thanks, Reg, you really know how to cheer a girl up.”
“Do you want me to lie and say it’s not your fault? Sorry, I’ll give it another go. It’s not your fault at all y/n, you’re being forced to be around my blood-traitor brother and all his mud-blood friends.” His voice was cold, but for some reason, it didn’t make you feel small. “Was that better?”
“Listen I know I have the choice but it’s just... it’s hard when you care about someone,” you said, ignoring his question.
He sighed and shook his head. “If leaving isn’t what you plan on, then I suppose you’ll have to settle on talking to Sirius about how you feel. I assume you haven’t done that yet?” You shook your head, and he rolled his eyes. “Then talk to him and see if maybe that helps.”
“But what if-”
“If he reacts badly then you break up with him, it’s not that hard to comprehend y/n. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to return to our class, so no one gets any more suspicious.” He cut you off.
You were left outside the girl's bathroom with your mind racing, and your wrist still tingling where Regulus had held it.
~~~
April 25, 1978
It took you over a day to muster up the courage to follow through with Regulus’s suggestion. No wonder you weren’t in Gryffindor. The opportunity for you to speak with Sirius alone came after lunch when the two of you had a free period. As usual, you spent most of the time up in Sirius’s bed. So, as the two of you laid next to each other, spent from another good time, you decided it was a good time to bring up how you felt.
“Sirius,” you spoke softly. Your head was on his chest, your fingers drawing circles on his skin. “Can I talk to you about something?”
“’ Course love, anything,” he replied sweetly.
You inhaled deeply and kept your head down. “We’ve been seeing each other for a decent amount of time now and I’ve enjoyed it very much, but it’s just...” You swallowed. “Your friends... they don’t accept me.”
“How do you mean?”
“Come on, don’t you see how they treat me? They always give me these looks; they whisper about me. I’m sure they’ve all voiced their concern about me to you,” you answered.
“They don’t mean it to make you feel bad, they just you know... Lily is muggle-born, and so is Mary.”
“I’m aware of that. That has nothing to do with me, you should know I don’t care about blood status.”
“Well yes but your house, the people you are friends with, they care. You can’t blame my friends for being weary.”
You sat up and looked at Sirius, suddenly full of anger. “I am not like the other people in my house, and it’s hypocritical for them to judge me based on that. Have I ever proven myself to be anything like the other Slytherins?”
“No, but-”
“But nothing Sirius. I’m not like them, and it hurts that you don’t even bother to make your friends believe that.” You cut him off. You got off his bed and began to gather your clothes. “It’s clear I’m not welcome here.”
“Y/n-”
You began to button your shirt. “No Sirius it’s fine, I understand. I thought you Gryffindors were supposed to be welcoming, I suppose that assumption was wrong too.”
Just as you were about to bend down to retrieve your tie, you felt Sirius’s warm hands on your hips. Instinctively, you turned to look at him. He stared up at you with a frown on his face. You hated how perfect he still looked with such a sour expression.
“You’re right, I should advocate for you more. I’ll do that from now on. You are nothing like the other Slytherins, you’re perfect y/n. I’m sorry for not catching on to this sooner.” His words were sincere, you could tell. It made your anger subside.
“Thank you,” you said, a small smile on your lips.
“Now, can you get back into bed for a little longer?” He asked.
You nodded with a chuckle and slid back beneath the sheets. Though you felt relieved and happy at the outcome of your conversation, you couldn’t help but think about what Regulus’s reaction to the news would be.
For some reason, you knew he wouldn’t be pleased.
~~~
April 26, 1978
His eyes searched your face; you tried your hardest to keep your expression neutral. The two of you were up in the astronomy tower, the glow of the moon and stars your only source of light. You didn’t know why you felt almost ashamed telling him about the conversation you had with Sirius. Something deep within you knew the outcome wasn’t what the younger Black brother wanted.
“I’m a bit confused,” he said after a moment of silence.
“What about?”
“If the conversation truly went as you say it did, why aren’t you happy?”
“What do you mean? I am happy. I think I even saw a bit of improvement today,” you answered honestly.
Regulus only shrugged and turned to look off the balcony. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“I really am happy Reg this is what I wanted. Now they won’t be so judgmental and perhaps I’ll start to finally feel welcomed,” you replied.
You stared at him for a minute. The soft glow of the moonlight illuminated his features in a way you’d never seen before. He was handsome. With his sharp jawline, his dark curly hair, and his prominent cheekbones how could he not be handsome?
Eventually, he turned his eyes back to you, and for a split second, your breath caught in your throat. There was something intense in his light eyes that you couldn’t decode. It made heat rush straight to your face.
“All right, if that’s what you want,” he said. “See you around.”
With that, he left. And you almost followed him, almost.
~~~
April 27, 1978
Something was wrong with you. Very wrong.
You couldn’t stop thinking about the one boy in Hogwarts you really shouldn’t have been thinking about. It was wrong, especially in the way you were thinking about him. You tried to distract yourself in every way you could. With your friends, with Sirius, with schoolwork. But nothing worked.
Perhaps it was the intense dream you’d had the previous night that kept your mind wandering. After all, who could simply brush off an intense sexual dream about their boyfriend's brother? It made you blush and feel ashamed each time it crossed your mind throughout the day. And when you saw Regulus around the school, you almost fell apart.
It was as though a switch had been flipped inside you. Gone were the innocent friendly thoughts you had about the younger Black brother. They were replaced by awfully inappropriate ones.
But you were determined to make them vanish. Because to act on such thoughts would be terrible.
Right?
~~~
April 28, 1978
Avoiding Regulus was hard given he was in almost all your classes, and he shared the same common room as you. But you tried your hardest. You spent the day clung to Sirius as much as you could, despite the fact you were upset with him. Being around him meant being away from his brother. That was the important thing.
Things between you and Sirius’s friends had not changed much. You wondered if he had even said anything to them. If he did, it didn’t seem like it. It hurt you, but it didn’t occupy your thoughts as much as it previously had.
Actually, it made you realize something you were too afraid to admit.
Regulus seemed to care more about your feelings than your boyfriend.
That thought scared you. And it only made your improper thoughts about him grow.
~~~
April 29, 1978
You sat up in the Astronomy tower with your legs dangling off the balcony, a bottle of firewhiskey beside you. For the first time in months, you couldn’t deal with your thoughts without a substance. Luckily your boyfriend had a stash of alcohol and was able to spare you a small bottle. So, you took it with a big thank you and practically ran up to the tower. You needed to clear your head. You needed to escape.
There was a slight breeze, it made you clutch your robe tighter around your body. The alcohol helped too. You took another swig, a sigh escaping your lips at the feeling. You liked the way it made your chest warm, and how it made the thoughts of Regulus fade.
Suddenly, you heard footsteps. You gathered the bottle into your robe but remained seated. Whoever it was, they’d catch you anyway. There weren’t many hiding spaces in the tower. So, you prepared for an angry Filch to scold you.
“I figured you’d be up here, your roommates said they hadn’t seen you, neither did my brother.” The gentle voice of the boy you were trying to avoid spoke.
You whipped your head around fast, your mouth hung open slightly. He was only a few feet away from you, and still getting closer. “You talked to him about me?”
“Told him we have a project together and he still wasn’t very welcoming. I see why you feel out of place now,” he answered as he lowered himself to sit beside you. “Care to share any of that with me?”
“Since when do you drink Mr. Prefect?” You questioned skeptically.
He shrugged. “I’ve indulged before, is that surprising? I am almost of age you know.”
“You just don’t seem like the type that’s all,” you replied honestly. You removed the bottle from under your robe and handed it to him. “I’m a bit ahead of you though.”
Regulus didn’t reply. Instead, he popped the cap off the bottle and took a few swigs. You watched carefully, unable to hide your smile when his face scrunched up from the bitterness. Even then, he was still beautiful.
“Wine is much better than this,” he said after a minute as he handed the bottle back to you.
You nodded. “Taste wise, yes, but this gets you drunk much faster.”
“Is that what you want? To get drunk?”
You nodded again and took a swig from the bottle. He had a point, firewhiskey tasted awful. But you needed it, especially since Regulus had caught you alone and even more because he looked far too good in the moonlight.
“I thought things were going to get better with my brother,” he spoke.
“I thought so too but it seems he isn’t good at keeping his word,” you replied with a frown.
Regulus chuckled and took the bottle again. “Well look at him, he’s a filthy blood traitor, what do you see in him?”
“He’s kind, outgoing, very fun to party with, and of course one of the most handsome boys in the school,” you answered. You couldn’t help but smile when Regulus rolled his eyes. “None of that matters though. We’ll be splitting up soon.”
“Yeah?”
The hope in his voice was undeniable. It made your heart rate quicken.
“Yeah. He’ll be leaving school soon and we never really planned to last this long anyway so it only makes sense that we’ll be splitting.”
As he handed you the bottle back, your fingers brushed. You held in your breath, your mouth suddenly felt dry, and a tingle began in the small place where his skin met yours. Your eyes met again and from the way his starry eyes suddenly appeared darker you knew he felt what you did.
You should’ve looked away. You knew you should’ve. You’d like to blame the alcohol for the way you felt, but Regulus Black had proven himself to be more magnetic than any boy you’d ever met so there was no use excusing it. So, despite the fact it was wrong, you didn’t move when he started to lean closer.
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, his voice quieter than before.
“I’m sure you are,” you replied. He was close, his lips only inches away from yours.
“Why’s that?” He asked.
His eyes were so beautiful, you could barely focus on the words that came out of his mouth. “Because you...”
Your eyes fluttered shut and you felt his soft lips brush against yours. He was so gentle; you could barely even feel him. And after only a few seconds he pulled back. Your eyes remained closed.
“Because I’m...?”
“Reg, don’t make me ask you.”
“Oh, but I want to hear it so bad.”
“Just shut up and kiss me already.”
He didn’t hesitate to fulfill your request and soon enough he was kissing you with an intensity you weren’t sure you ever felt before. One of his hands fell to your waist, his fingers quickly untucking your shirt from your skirt. You let your fingers run through his curls as you’d imagined doing so many times over the previous days.
When he pushed you back and urged you to lie down, you did it. When he pushed your knees apart and slid between your legs you didn’t protest. It was terrible, you were cheating on your boyfriend with his little brother. But at that moment no thoughts could even register in your head. All you could think about was how good Regulus’s body felt against yours and how good he was at kissing.
Perhaps things moved faster than they should’ve. Perhaps they should’ve never moved in that direction to begin with. Either way, within only a few minutes both of your robes were discarded and one of Regulus’s hands was between your thighs. His lips remained on yours as he toyed with you, his soft kiss engulfed each of your moans. You traced your fingertips up and down his back, your hand under his shirt. He was soft but rough, he was perfect.
“I want you,” he suddenly whispered against your lips.
Your eyes opened, he pulled back a bit, and your eyes met his. He didn’t stop his fingers; you could barely think of what to say. “I want you too Reg.”
“Right now?” He asked.
“Right now,” you assured him breathlessly.
You watched him fumble with his belt for a few seconds before he distracted you with another kiss. He was intoxicating, to say the least. Every one of your senses was flooded with Regulus Black. The scent of his cologne, the feeling of his hands under your skirt, the taste of the firewhiskey he’d previously drank, the sound of his shallow breath, the brief glimpses you stole of his pretty face, it was almost too much for you to handle.
Once his belt was finally undone you felt him shift and you knew what was to come. You didn’t think of stopping him for a second. Instead, you threaded your fingers back in his black curls and held him tighter. He pushed your panties to the side and without warning began to slowly push his cock inside you.
You bit down on his lip, your back arched off the floor, and your thighs squeezed around him. He didn’t stutter with his movements and began to thrust in and out at a pace that made your head spin and your insides warm.
After a few minutes, he began to trail his mouth down your neck, the sensation making it impossible for you to stay quiet. You gripped one of his biceps with your hand and your eyes squeezed shut as he fucked you. He was careful despite the heat of the moment, however. You were silently grateful. No marks would be left on your skin.
“Reg,” you moaned. “Fuck Reg.”
He staggered for a moment. “Are you okay?” The vibration of his voice on your skin made you almost moan again.
“Yes, yes. Please don’t stop,” you whimpered.
It would be impossible for you to know exactly how long it went on. But by the time it was over, you felt no effects from the alcohol you’d drank before. You came hard, arguably harder than you’d ever come in your life. Regulus did something to you that you couldn’t understand. So, when he asked if it was ok for him to finish inside you said yes.
The two of you laid next to each other in the aftermath, a few inches between your bodies. Sweat covered the inside of your shirt, and another substance leaked between your thighs. You only stared at the ceiling and the stars above as you steadied your breathing.
“I won’t tell,” Regulus said after some time.
“Thank you,” you replied quietly. You were still in a daze; your mind couldn’t process what had just occurred. You sat up, your back was already starting to ache. “I should go.”
From the corner of your eye, you saw Regulus sit up too. “Yeah, you should.”
You slid your robe over your arms and straightened out your tie and shirt. Before you stood, you made sure to grab the bottle of firewhiskey and conceal it under your clothes. You looked down at Regulus briefly, he was already looking at you. It made your face heat up.
You gave him a weak smile. “I’ll um... I’ll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
You escaped before anything else could be said and raced down to your dorm.
The whole night you tossed and turned in bed, your head full of thoughts that would not let you sleep. You cheated on Sirius. With his brother. It was almost unimaginable. You’d never thought of cheating before, it never crossed your mind. But there you were a cheater.
You just hoped Sirius wouldn’t ask where you were on April 29th.
Because he really wouldn’t want to know.
#fanfiction#smut#marauders fandom#regulus black is hot#regulus black smut#regulus black#sirius and regulus#marauders imagine#marauders smut#marauders fanfiction#marauders era#harry potter fanfic#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fandom#harry potter#sirius black smut#sirius x you#regulus x reader#harry potter smut#inspired by taylor swift#high infidelity#smutty#i love smut#smutty smut smut#taylorstans#regulus and evan and barty#regulus deserved better#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#the marauders#marauders
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flawless.
pairing: hongjoong x f!reader.
genre: smau, office setting, coworkers.
warnings/topics: there's quite a bit of plot before it gets to the actual smut, hongjoong is cocky, teasing, blowjobs, facefucking, aftercare (though not very descriptive), slight fluff at the end, no actual sex, just oral.
word count: 1.4k
a/n: it took me so long to finish this but here’s my second tumblr fic— again, it isn’t proofread so i apologize for any errors. reblogs and likes are appreciated, enjoy <3
being coworkers with hongjoong was usually a miserable experience; he walked around as if he owned the place, his tone always condescending— y/n was especially a victim of this. he was constantly coercing y/n into making his presentations for him or filling out paperwork that he had due the next day. hongjoong held no leadership position above y/n, so he could easily get reprimanded for what he was doing; but hongjoong knew how soft-spoken and obedient y/n was. he found it amusing seeing her stress over overwhelming situations that he was the cause of.
y/n was incredibly awkward, and it was a trait of hers that you would typically notice right away. she wore black bayonetta glasses, which perfectly complimented her almond-shaped eyes. y/n was well known in their company building because of how beautiful she was, but anyone who worked by her knew she was just a nerd. hongjoong would be lying if he said that wasn’t his type.
y/n left a soft knock on hongjoong’s office door. she had just spent the last 2 hours signing off on documents and contracts for the company’s business partners and customers; another task that was supposed to be hongjoong’s responsibility.
“door’s open~” hongjoong teased mockingly, knowing that y/n was the one on the other side of the wall. they were supposed to clock out 2 hours ago; before y/n was given the extra assignment. the clicks of her heels could be heard as she approached hongjoong’s desk, setting the papers down before averting her attention to hongjoong himself.
y/n’s words were lodged in her throat upon taking in hongjoong’s current appearance. his hair was just the perfect amount of messy, his tie was loosened, and his collared shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a glimpse of his defined chest. his slacks were tight against his thighs, leaving the size of them to no one’s imagination. y/n swallowed thickly, a slight blush spreading across her cheeks as she viewed the sight. she eventually looked up to meet his eyes, where hongjoong maintained a strong and assertive contact between them. y/n quickly shied away, deciding to speak up instead of letting the current tension in the air become any thicker.
“can i help you with anything else? you look… exhausted,” she innocently batted her eyelashes, causing hongjoong to look at her confused. she was obviously suggesting something, which threw hongjoong off— he could not recall any other times when y/n had spoken to him with underlying meaning dripping from her words like this. nevertheless, he proceeded to play a long.
“well, i had a few important meetings to attend today, my whole body is tense,” hongjoong sighed, throwing his head back in his chair with an annoyed groan. y/n could see how beautifully structured his throat was, with many protruding veins traveling up to his jawline.
“let me help you hongjoong; i don’t have anything planned for tonight anyway,” y/n offered, walking around hongjoong’s desk and getting behind him. she gently placed her hands on the crooks of his neck and began to massage them, the action immediately beginning to soothe him of the uncomfortable pain that resided there previously. hongjoong practically melted into her touch as a sense of relief washed over him.
despite the feeling of comfort that enveloped the two, the excruciating tension that had only increased between them was becoming unbearable. hongjoong knew y/n was teasing him once her hands had dissipated from his shoulders and traveled a little too close to his defined pecs.
hongjoong breathed in sharply when he felt her hand squeeze the left side of his chest softly; he couldn’t tolerate it anymore. he swiftly stood up from his seat, grabbed y/n’s face with his hands, and brought their lips together in desperation. her hands rested upon his shoulder blades, the grip getting more intense as their shared kiss deepened. only the noise of shortened breaths and saliva could be heard throughout the room as their tongues fought for dominance between the two mouths.
the kiss came to a stop as hongjoong’s mouth made its way down y/ns body, leaving soft pecks from the corners of her mouth to her jawline. he paused to suck on a specific part of her collarbone once he noticed her breath hitch— she moaned at the feeling, running her fingers through his hair as he continued.
when hongjoong stopped to catch a breath, y/n took it upon herself to drop to her knees and begin unzipping hongjoong’s pants. as he looked down in her direction with surprise, he got a clear view of her cleavage peaking out from the top of her shirt. they looked perfectly plump and round; he just couldn’t get the image of them out of his mind no matter how hard he tried.
he decided to keep quiet and observe for the time being. y/n pulled his pants down slightly, giving her access to the print of his dick being hidden by his boxers— she palmed him gently, causing hongjoong to let out a strangled moan. he was painfully hard, and it only felt like she was teasing him.
“god, stop fucking around already y/n,” hongjoong groaned out, a frustrated expression plaguing his face. y/n abided by his words as she pushes his boxers down, setting his throbbing cock free from his clothing. precum was beginning to drip down the side of his tip, so y/n leaned in to circle her tongue around it, lapping up the substance into her mouth.
she gave hongjoong’s tip a few kitten licks while looking up to meet his eyes; he gave her a deathly glare, so she took that as a warning and finally took his cock into her mouth whole. the warmth of her mouth around his dick made hongjoong shudder, causing him to buck his hips accidentally. y/n gagged at the feeling of his cock filling her throat up so suddenly, but she recovered quickly, continuing to bob her head and pleasure hongjoong.
“f-fuck, i can’t, please,” hongjoong breathily moaned, grabbing onto y/n’s hair and thrusting deeply into her mouth. hongjoong noticed that her gag reflex was no longer being triggered, so he had no mercy left on her throat. each time he felt y/n swallow against his cock, he would let out the most pornographic moans y/n had ever heard from a man. she found it humorous, really— it was such a large contrast from his cocky facade he wore all the time.
“i’m close, y/n, please— don’t stop,” hongjoong ranted as y/n cupped his balls, causing his legs to wobble slightly from the overwhelming surge of pleasure pulsating through his body at that very moment.
he continued fucking y/n’s mouth, quivering each time he heard the wet sounds her mouth made with each thrust. she swallowed one last time on his cock before he reached his climax, the hot white liquid spilling down her throat before he pulled out of her mouth. her mouth separated from his dick with a ‘pop’, with y/n then proceeding to lick the excess cum off of her lips with her tongue. her throat was the sorest it’d ever been, she never would’ve expected hongjoong to be as thick as he was.
at least she was aware now.
after hongjoong came down from his peak, he pulled his pants back up and got himself together. he made his way over to the bathroom attached to his office, retrieving a cloth and dampening it before returning to y/n. he kneeled in front of her, noticing how fucked out the expression on her face was.
“hey, look at me y/n,” hongjoong spoke softly, wiping off the sweat from her forehead and the saliva from her lips. he then threw the cloth off to the side, lifted her off the floor, and sat her in his office chair. “your knees must hurt… next time you can sit on the sofa instead, hm?” a smirk formed on his lips as he finished the sentence. y/n gave him a sarcastic glare— she wouldn’t admit it at this very moment, but even hongjoong knew this would happen again.
they talked about light topics before checking the time— the clock read 11:09 PM, meaning that even the security guards had gone home by now. the building doors were known to lock automatically at 11, so the two of them had no choice but to sleep in hongjoong’s office for the night. they cuddled up closely on the small sofa against the wall— it’d be a lie to say that they immediately went to sleep, but they knew one thing for sure; the tension that had always been between them would be gone from that night on.
#ateez smut#ateez x reader#atz x reader#ateez#hongjoong#hongjoong x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#atz smut#atz
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Journey
Warning: You guys, this one HURTS. Seriously. Trigger warning for death, grief, sadness.
Proceed at your own risk. And don't yell at me afterwards if you proceeded anyway and this hurt you. You were warned.
----
There’s a bit of dirt on her dress. If she had to guess, she’d say it’s probably Jo’s fault. But she’s Sherlock Holmes’ daughter, so she doesn’t guess. She deduces.
She wets her finger, picks up a crumb.
Rice cake. Raspberry flavour. Jo’s favourite.
She brushes it off. Then she fixes her hair. Checks her shoes.
Anything to delay. Anything to put off this particular journey for a few more seconds.
She meets her own eyes in the mirror. “Come on, Watson,” she whispers. “You can do this. You have to do this. Remember your promise.”
Look out for him, he’d said to her. Before he couldn’t speak anymore. Look out for each other.
Fuck, she’s crying already.
No. She bites the inside of her cheek and keeps the tears in.
She had forty years of parenting. Now she needs to step up. She needs to be strong.
She nods at herself one last time in the mirror, then goes down the corridor to the bedroom door. She knocks, just once. “Are you ready?”
The silence that greets her is ever so slightly sarcastic.
Stupid question, she chides herself. “Let me rephrase. Are you dressed?”
He opens the door. Of course he’s immaculate. The black suit fits him perfectly, and even though age has somewhat diminished his ramrod straightness, he still looks distinguished and elegant without much effort. His face is a study of outward stoicism, and if Rosie hadn’t known him her entire life, she wouldn’t have noticed how much of a strain it is for him to take even a single step.
This is hell for her. She can’t even imagine what it’s like for him.
But she was raised by two British men of a certain age, and public displays of emotion make her as viscerally uncomfortable as it does them, therefore she knows how important it is to him to keep his composure in public.
They did a lot of crying together when it happened. Though quite honestly, it was a relief when it was finally over. The weeks and months prior were pure hell, for all of them. Dad was always a dignified man whose autonomy was important to him. When he refused further treatment, she supported him, and so did Paps.
It’s the circle of life, she knows this. They help you into this world, you help them out of it. You travel together for a time, and then you have to let them go. And it’s her duty to accompany him on this last leg of his journey.
But she has a more important responsibility.
She holds out her hand, and Paps takes it. They help each other into their coats. Paps’ coat is unchanged, and she wonders what he paid for this one. Every time one of his coats gives out, he has one made. With the same red embroidery around the buttonhole.
“Where’s Jo?” Paps asks, the first words he said all morning.
“Mark’s taking her. They’re meeting us there.”
He nods in acknowledgement.
They walk outside. It’s incongruously sunny. It’s cold, and windy, and she’s glad for her coat.
Should it be sunny, on a day like this?
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, she thinks.
But no. The hard part is that life goes on. That nothing stops even for a second, just because your heart is ashes. Dinner, errands, bedtime stories, maths tests, patients, laundry, paperwork, bills.
Ironically it makes it easier, for her. That she has something to do. That she has somewhere to go. That she’s not in the home they shared alone, staring at the walls, remembering.
“Paps,” she says, turning around, leaning against the car. “There’s something…” she takes a breath. “I wanted to ask you something.”
He makes a gesture for her to continue, but his eyes are on the horizon, and she knows he’s far away, locked somewhere in his mind palace to get through the day.
“Admin is putting a lot of pressure on me to take more hours. Department can’t afford another hire, they need shifts covered, et cetera. And we need the money. But it means I’d have twelve-hour shifts again, and Mark’s rarely home before six. Jo comes home from school at four. That’s two hours I don’t know how to cover.”
He looks at her, uncomprehending. You need to be more clear, she reminds herself. He’s not at his best today. “221A is empty. I thought, maybe…” she trails off, making a ‘you fill in the gaps’ kind of gesture. Then she takes a deep breath and fills in the gaps herself. “I thought you might want to come home?”
He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He’s watching the horizon with a far away expression. Then he looks at her and gives her a slight smile. “I play the violin at three in the morning. And I sometimes don’t talk for days. Would that bother you?”
“I lived with you for twenty-four years, Paps. I think I’ll be fine,” Rosie says dryly, but she’s biting her cheek to keep the tears in again, because she knows what he’s thinking.
Full circle.
He nods at her, just once. “I noticed little Watson’s maths needs some polishing,” he says, with a trace of his old self shining through. “And quite frankly, her chess skills are appalling.”
“I expect you to turn her into a grand master by the time she’s twelve,” Rosie says, and discovers that it’s, after all, possible to smile.
They both stand in the sun for a second, letting the small glimmer of joy warm them.
Then Paps sighs. “It’s time, isn’t it.”
Rosie nods, and this time, she doesn’t check her tears.
“Should I drive?” Paps asks, gently.
She just gives him a look, and he chuckles. “Fair enough.” He nods at the car, then puts a hand on her shoulder. “Into battle, Watson.”
She nods. Wipes her tears. Takes his hand. “Into battle, Holmes.”
-------
Rosie is quoting a line from Funeral Blues by WH Auden.
I'm not going to apologise for making you sad. I warned you. Remember that before you yell at me in the comments.
May is almost over, you guys. How did that happen?!
Tags under the cut as always, please notfiy me if you want to be taggeed or untagged.
@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown
#johnlock#bbc sherlock#may prompts 2024#mayprompts2024#my fic#journey#trigger warning death#trigger warning grief#proceed at your own risk#this will hurt you#you were warned
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Imagining Emily just staring out of the window at the training ground of excorcists.
Sera: Emily, what are you doing?
Emily sighs, oblivious to the world's around her. Sera raises an eyebrow and goes to look out of the window.
There is Lute, dressed in training outfit, that consists of a training bra and shorts, fighting 5 of her colleagues. Sera finally notices a lost look on Emily. Oh, she recognises that one.
Also, I can't help it, when ideas strike, they strike. You don't have to answer them today. 🙃
Sera is racking her brain, trying to remember where she's seen this particular Exterminator before, when she realizes this one is Adam's second in command. She almost falls over in horror at the prospect of Emily pining after her.
Sera: "Emily. Are you serious? That one?!"
Emily, startled: "Oh, Sera! I didn't see you! Don't mind me! I was just, umm...just aaahhh...seeing how the new recruits were faring!"
Sera: "From where I'm standing, your eyes were only on one angel."
Emily, awkwardly: "Oh...oops....yeah...sorry? I guess? You caught me."
Sera, taking in a deep breath: "I know we talked about this. I told you about Carmilla, and we agreed your attraction to women would be between us... But please, Emily, please, for the love of all that is holy, reconsider that one!"
Emily: "I can't control who I like, Sera! You couldn't help falling in love with Carmilla, could you?"
Sera, pausing for several seconds and groaning under her breath: "...Touché."
#hazbin hotel#carmilla carmine#sera hazbin hotel#emily hazbin hotel#lute hazbin hotel#adam hazbin hotel#tw: adam bashing#ask#anon#fan theories#pining wings au
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