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kisses4reid · 2 months

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convenient pt.3 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 | pt.2 (you cannot read this without prior reading)

summary - spencer likes the girl from the convenience store

warnings - awkward conversations and long silences, both of them being hopeless romantics, allergies/sickness

genre - fluff!!! college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer

a/n - thank you for the love and support on this series. it goes without saying i appreciate all of you all 🫶 thank u @raevyng for the cameo. sorry this is short, it’s either i upload this part or i make y’all wait for another week - i like you guys too much to do that.

“good job on you’re stem cell report, y/n. it was very informed and unique. i liked the, now who was it… william blake quote you included!” the teacher spoke before a class of 60. it was back to teaching new information before the next assessment, you were just about finished typing the professor’s notes before she spoke up. the mention of your name nearly made you jump.

a few of the students looked back up at you, some looking around because they had no clue who you were. you liked it better that way.

you also had no idea who william blake was.

“oh- um. thanks.” you say barely above a whisper. professor raena simply smiled and pushed back her shoulder length bob from her face. she started talking again, so did your friend.

“thanks? the professor who’s known to call out people for their incompetence more than smile in the classroom just praised you. that’s all you had to say?”

maybe logan wasn’t your friend per say. maybe she was just someone who sat next to you the first class and also happened to be your neighbour. she was stubborn and straight-forward, insanely intelligent and also smelt great. but she was caring, and gave you tough love when you needed it.

you glanced at her and smiled awkwardly, “i didn’t have much time to think about an answer.”

“i spend most of my time thinking about what i’d say to professor raena if she ever complimented me.”

“that’s because your-“ you suddenly muffle a cough into your hand, “obsessed with her.” you bring out a small packet of tissues from your bag and wipe your nose, nose reddening. logan leans slightly away from you and you roll your eyes.

“you’re not going to catch anything, it’s just allergies.” you lean back and try to continue typing notes but logan continues,

“you should go home, have some medicine, get some sleep.”

“i can’t, i’ve got work.” you whispered, a man in front of you turning around to shoot you with a side eye.

“you’ve told me multiple times that your manager wouldn’t care if you stole from the store. i’ve also told you many times i also don’t care.”

“yeah well… i like working there, that’s all.”

she rolls her eyes again, and waves you off, her long brown hair blocking her disappointed expression from you.

you stayed loyal to your job for two nights, for nothing. sure you got paid, and sure you got to steal some strawberry milk to ease your throat for a couple of minutes, but it felt boring. you actually started to file through the month old magazines you sold for double the price of a new one. you almost made it a third day without dying of allergies (and another secret feeling of sickness you constantly ignored), before you decided you were over it.

you stood up, flipped the door sign so the word ‘open’ faced you, and turned off half of the fluorescent lights before someone was suddenly in the corner of your eyes. spencer was opening the door so quickly you thought you were being robbed, you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the bell ringing on his entry.

“y/n.” he panted, watching your fingers hover over the last light switch. there was two lights left flickering softly above the front door and the check out desk. he looked stoic in the light, dressed in a grey sweater a little too big for him (like his mother had bought it for him telling him he’d grow into it) and black slacks. he seemed to have gotten a trim, his hair just under his ears now. “you don’t close until 1.”

he was confused, eyes wandering with a light hint of relief. like he was happy he didn’t miss you.

“yeah.” is all you said before you turned away from the light switch and returned to the register, assuming he would get his usual. but he didn’t keep walking, he just turned his body to face you. his eyes were expectant, delirious in a way like he needed something from you.

it was silent before the tension literally forced you to speak, “um. i need to close the store before i pass out. so i can uh… get home alive.” you look down and realise the pile of tissues before you was making a mountain, quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in an over filled bin.

“um.” a cat caught his tongue, he looked down to his feet.

spencer was sitting in his desk chair, scrolling on his government provided computer through forums and websites on ‘how to ask out a girl.’ not realising a majority of his team was reading them as well. he heard a small, familiar giggle behind him, quickly closing the tab and turning his head to be met with many other faces. jj slapped garcia on the shoulder with a smile, who’s hand was over her mouth, morgan and emily also smiling. spencer sighed and was about to cover for himself before morgan stepped in,

“look, pretty boy. no websites or article is ever going to teach you how to ask out a girl. they know nothing.”

emily joined, “yeah, none of those things are going to work. i mean, one of those said ‘don’t take no for an answer’. that’s straight up harassment.” she chuckled. morgan walked forward and placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder.

“all you have to do is talk. learn to what she likes, and be confident.”

“that’s easy for you to say.” spencer mumbled.

“who is this girl anyways? who’s taking our genius away from us?” garcia asked, today her hair was adorned with green themed pieces and a small pink flower clip.

spencer couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth perk up when he thought about the girl who worked at the convenience store. the girl who’s report honestly impressed him. the girl who knew his total without looking at the register. the girl who called him good looking without noticing, like it slipped off of her tongue with no second thought. “just someone.”

you were not just someone.

“yeah you should get home. you look terrible.” spencer’s eyes widened as you raised an eyebrow, “no i mean- not terrible- you never look or have ever looked terrible- i just meant today- no you- like you’re sick and obviously- i mean you don’t obviously look terrible- it’s just uh…” he nodded at himself after he noticed a smile creeping onto your face. “you know what i mean.”

“i know i look terrible, thank you.” he was slowly walking up to the register.

“you really should go home, i shouldn’t keep you here because of some coffee.”

you eyes stung and were puffed in redness, you nose dried yet running, eyebrow lines permanent from warding off a migraine. any other customer you would stay for, but you felt less guilty with him. not because you didn’t care, because you knew he did.

“yeah, thank you.” you grabbed your bag, put your empty water bottle into it and walked over to the lights, turning off the last ones, leaving you both in darkness. spencer was waiting for you, quite creepily as he was basically just a block of void. “you sure you don’t need your 3 minute lasagne?” you joked, and he smiled.

“no, this is fine.”

this? them? you thought this man was articulate.

you opened the door with a key-accessed button that automatically locked it after it closed, and walked into the warm streetlight with spencer.

“bye spencer.” you looked up to him only to find his eyes already on you. his face was plain of emotion, except maybe it was just the lighting that made you think he looked disappointed. not at you, at himself. he was silent, hands making their way into his pockets. it was a habit, you had learned. “what’s wrong spencer?” you asked softly, sniffling immediately after.

it was cold, the wind let a stray piece of hair cross your stuffy features.

“do you like old bookstores, y/n?”

you blinked, taken aback. “yeah. i like old bookstores.” you huddled into your sweater, a darker grey compared to his with a large font displaying your university.

“okay, goodbye y/n. see you tomorrow.” he hurried off into his car and you followed him with you eyes in curiosity.

you were already walking away before he could turn around and ask you something, he felt like he had missed his chance. but there would be more. spencer closed his eyes in frustration and took a breath, starting his car before texting the team’s group chat.

“Attempt One failed. 😐👎”

there was a string of messages after but he didn’t read them. all he could think about was the percentage of people who die alone, and then the percentage of people who are like you.

the next night he appeared at the normal time, around nearly 11pm. but he wasn’t the only one, logan was there with you, studying behind you on the floor.

she was bored, and needed to get out of her room, and the only person she knew well enough was you. there in her mens pyjama pants and an over-sized shirt that read ‘RIP Princess Diana’ with a photo of owen wilson on it, her computer warmed her lap and made a soft whirling sound the in the background.

“hi y/n.” spencer waved, he felt bad about last night. you were barely walking straight when you left and he could tell you wouldn’t get out of your ‘work clothes’ (whatever you wanted to wear with a vest over it) before falling onto your mattress, and he drove away. he didn’t even offer to take and walk you home, let alone give you a ride. but his hands were sweating and his heart thumping in his ears, and he couldn’t think straight.

“oh, hi spencer.” you turned from your own textbook splayed on the counter beside you to see spencer and his tall self. a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him.

he wasn’t meeting you eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows for a second before telling him his total with a sniffle.

“i’m sorry for not driving you home,” he lifted his head, a piece of chocolate brown hair crossing his left eye, “or walking you home. or making sure you made it home safe.”

you widened your eyes slightly and sat still before spencer cleared his throat and continued, “i was nervous, about being around you. and my friends- my colleagues- told me i need to be more confident around you so.”

logan had stopped writing, glancing through her bangs up at you both. your mouth was slightly agape before you realised how stupid you looked and how awkward you were making it.

“oh- no it’s okay spencer, you don’t have to say sorry. i was- i’m fine. um,” you tilt your head with the corner of your lips quirking up with little resistance, “you talk about me to your friends?”

spencer nodded, put his hands in his pockets and thought for a second. he wished there was a better place to do this, a better person to take over for him.

all you have to do is talk.

spencer is great at talking.

“did you know that you could be scrolling for seven weeks before you can reach the end of ‘how to ask a girl out’ results on google? i was scrolling for a long time but then my friends told me to just talk and be confident, but i’m only good at one of those thing. so i was trying to ask you out last night but then i- well i failed basically, it isn’t my strong suit,” he took a breath, “so basically i’m saying sorry for not asking you out and not driving you home.”

it was silent, even a customer stopped humming.

“and also your allergy medication isn’t strong enough for your symptoms.” he glanced down to a white and blue box by your hand. you looked down, seeing logan in the corner of your eyes, hand covering her face.

“spencer-“

“dude just ask her out.”

spencer’s face dropped, and he looked over the counter to find another woman sat down, a cringed out expression on her face. his nervousness increased after he realised this wasn’t as private a conversation as he thought. wiping his hand on his vest, he continue with a gulp,

“no i can’t. not here, um. i’ll see you on monday. and i promise i’ll uh- be better? i’ll try again, so. okay see you on monday.” he quickly took his groceries and walked off quite speedily. you watched him walk away and then once he was out of sight, you simply stared at the box of allergy medication on the counter.

logan groaned in the background and said something about growing balls, but it was tv silence for you.

you didn’t know how to go out with someone, your last relationship was in your first year of high school with a guy who thought baby’s came out of a woman’s bum. not that spencer meant he wanted a relationship, no it could just be a friend ‘going out’. totally not romantic.

you slump and stuff your face in your hands. you didn’t care if you hadn’t dated for however long, he didn’t seem to be a man-whore at all. you just cared about how you were actually going to say yes to a man you’ve only talked to inside of an off-brand convenience store on the night shift.

you muffle a scream before the same silent customer placed a carton of milk on the counter.

“$2.50.” you grumble.

you carried logan’s computer bag as she took out a box of strawberry pocky on the sidewalk. the store was locked, the air was crisp, the light was flickering. you didn’t say much until logan couldn’t stand it anymore.

“you know when you’re this silent it’s actually pretty nice, i like peaceful walks home.” you nodded, and continued your racing thoughts with your line of vision stuck on the concrete as you both walked the block to your apartments. she sighed, “but it’s odd. you love talking. a guy likes you and you go mute?”

“his name is spencer, he does something dangerous for a living, he likes old books and drinks a lot of coffee. he gets home late at night, looks skinny but can lift a box of flour above his head with ease. he’s insanely smart and reads poetry, and helped me with my stem cell report.”

you look over at logan who looks a little disgusted but mainly confused.

“he helped me lift that box of flour without me asking. i have no idea who william blake is. i have no idea how he managed to put poetry in a biology report, and i have no idea how he can admit he’s going to ask me out and then not ask me out. his favourite colour is purple, his favourite fruit is grapes but he buys apples because they’re cheaper. and his name is… spencer.”

logan stopped in her tracks, making you copy. you flung out of whatever trance you were stuck in and raised an eyebrow at logan, “what?”

“what? oh no i don’t know, maybe you’ve just never told me about a man you happen to know a lot about, and yet don’t know anything about. you sound insane- not in the ‘loony-bin way’, in the romcom way. it’s disgusting.”

you both continued to walk, climbing the stairs to the foyer of your building before she took back her bag and gave you the pocky, mumbling, “you need these more than me.”

the elevator ride was mostly silent, and that continued before you both unlocked your apartment doors right beside each other.

“you need to ask him out, if he doesn’t do it first.” she entered her apartment before you could speak, let alone think.

suddenly your apartment felt lonely.

so did spencer’s.

he was cross legged on his plush couch on a call with penelope garcia, she was squealing every second minute trying to create a plan for spencer to ask someone out.

“spence, you’re making this very hard. how am i supposed to be your coach if i only have half a team?”

“you can find someone’s address with half a fingerprint, i think you’ll be fine.” he takes a bite of his 2 minute bolognese.

“that takes the fun out of it. i can only give you tips if i know her personality.”

spencer sighed, and thought for a second, he could practically hear penelope’s growing smile knowing she had won.

“her names y/n.” garcia squealed. “she’s smart and pretty. and her favourite colour’s purple and she studies biology. she knows my groceries off my heart and she’s allergic to pollen. she works late at night at the convenience store two blocks away from my apartment building, and she likes old book stores. she’ll be introverted around an extroverted person, but extroverted around an introverted person. she can read my expressions faster than anyone else, she tries out different hairstyles when nobody’s in the store, and she’s funny.” spencer smiles to himself, “she’s pretty.”

“you mentioned that, lover boy.”

pt.4

taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #cm #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid series

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jaylaxies · 8 months

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ARIAARIAARIAAAAA HAVE YOU SEEN THISS

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSL7vJc3J/

GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS 💭 - 🎉

OMG I HAVE and here:

tw: stalking, drugs, blackmailing, gambling, guns, smut

stalker!hee who pretends to be the nerd in your class, always watching you from a distance simply because he can’t get enough of you, you’re too pretty for anyone else to have and that’s how he learns the way to your heart, getting information about the smallest things such as your favourite drink so when he finally talks to you, he can manipulate you into thinking that he’s the perfect guy for you, knowing everything there is about you, him being wild in bed and having a big cock is only a bonus.

drug dealer!jay who’s always present at all your frat parties with whatever a person would need to feel out of this world, yet that’s not what you crave, you want love, you don’t wish to feel alone in this world and so, you try drugs in an empty balcony, but you request jay to accompany you for the same. he’s habitual to it, and he finds you cute with your mumbling, but once you both get high out of your mind, heat kicks in and soon, you’re on top of jay, kissing the life out of him while riding his cock, which feels a thousand times better while smoking.

blackmailer!jake who’s also your ex and possessive beyond what you’d consider normal. the breakup was messy, he was controlling your life and you were against it, but he had ruined everything for you. nothing felt good after him, no one fucked you as good as him till the day you get a text from him, hoping that it’ll be an apology but he ends up blackmailing you with the crime you had committed and buried deep in your memory. what he wants in return? you. it’s an easy bargain with you missing his touch and him doing anything and everything to have his cock in you again.

street racer!sunghoon who’s all the money in this world and yet nothing gives him the thrill like racing does, and that’s why he finds himself back there each week, until one day he spots you. he hardly pays attention to anyone, and he almost missed you since your clothes fit right in, but he doesn’t like how you’re clinging on to his rival heeseung. that would have been enough for him to stop thinking about you but that wasn’t the case when he made most out of the line bet with him—that he’ll have a night with you if he wins, which he did. but you’re fierce, you hate how they treated you as a bet, and without your knowledge at that. but that doesn’t stop you from fighting back, and fighting with sunghoon doesn’t end well, one minute you’re fighting, the other you’re under him, begging for more as he fucks you senseless on his silk sheets.

gambler!sunoo who cannot stop getting back to the gambling hub each night. the reason? you. he doesn’t like how you wear that smirk of yours, clad in the tightest clothes while playing strip poker, somehow always winning and never having to go beyond removing your top. sunoo never plays with your group, always observing from a distance until he finally caves in and plays with you, eyes on you, not caring about the ones around. he plays effortlessly, being the best player you had ever came across, a gasp left your mouth when you were left in nothing but your panties but he stops you from removing them, eyes dark, “leave them on, it’s only for me to see,” he’d whisper, and yes, you can’t deny him and find yourself following him back to a hotel.

mafia!jungwon who never had any other motive in life but to kill his rival as a revenge for his family, but right on the day of his final plan, things went south and you (who happened to be at the same restaurant) got hurt. of course jungwon completed his mission but leaving a girl injured would be way out of line even for him, and you had also seen their faces behind the masks while holding guns, which is why they couldn’t let you run away, which is why you found yourself in their secret building, trying your best to get away, but jungwon wasn’t having any of it. he snapped, pinning you against the wall and warning you, but you took this as an opportunity to kiss him, turning it into something deeper as you let him fuck his pent up frustrations into you. the sex was good but you wanted out, running away when he was sleeping, not knowing that he’ll come to get you again.

#🎉 anon #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jay smut #jake smut #heeseung smut #sunghoon smut #jungwon smut #sunoo smut #enhypen #enhypen imagines

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softieekayy · 6 months

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Intertwined

Hannibal Lecter x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Hannibal Lecter was a stoic man with stoic impressions. He did his job, he left and he came home. Not many people knew much about him and the one who did, Will Graham, was a mystery of his own.

Having said that, there was one person who knew his entire soul, for their souls were entangled with each other. Hannibal’s wife. She knew him and his antics like the back of her hand. It was to be expected, especially since they’ve known eachother since Hannibal was a young man in medical school and her a young teenage girl with a crush on him. He never entertained it through, no, he always taught her things that she found useful later in life. It was fate who decided that they would spend the rest of their lives together.

Hannibal would do anything for his wife, she was his sun, moon and entire universe. He worshiped the floor she walked on. Not to mention that the young Mrs. Lecter was a beautiful woman with shiny hair and satin like skin. She was ethereal and people often thought she was an angel posing as one of their kind simply because of her beauty. Her beauty didn’t end physically, not at all. The young woman was a saint. She wouldn't hurt a fly, in fact, she would nourish it and then set it free.

“Why is he so hard to cut up!” (Y/n) whined to her husband, stomping down her expensively clad feet in a tantrum, blood seeping into her satin, champagne coloured shirt, staining the material. In one hand she held a butcher's knife with blood coating it, the body beneath her indicating the frustration she very obviously felt.

“Well, darling” Hannibal grunted, “cutting people with knives like this isn’t easy.”

“Yeah I see that now, my love.” She muttered back, reverting to her former position on her knees and hacking away at Mr. Zaine Lammer’s arm. A disgusting man he was, objectifying Hannibal’s wife to him. The dinner the couple held was for charity. Just because they killed people didn’t mean they were monsters. (Y/n) still loved and cared about children and would never harm them, they can be tuned and molded into anything you’d like. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for adults.

Hannibal looked over to his, completely entranced by the pure and utter annoyance on her face. She knew Hannibal killed, it wasn’t a secret to her. She’s helped with the crimes. However, (Y/n) preferred the killing and setting up the scene part, she did not like the hacking away at the body. No, she left that to her dear husband to do. Not that Hannibal minded. He’d prefer for her to not get touched by the blood of filth.

“Ugh. I give up. I can’t do this anymore.” The young woman stated, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Hannibal laughed at his wife’s reaction, making her glare at him.

“Don’t laugh at me Hans!” She told him, a small smile threatening to break out on her face. Hannibal looked at her, not saying anything but rather just observing. His wife was the most beautiful lady to have ever walked the earth. An angel that was put amongst sinners. He put down his knife and walked over to her, putting one arm around her waist and tugging her closer to his body, her hands resting on his chest.

“Hi.” She whispered softly with an equally soft smile gracing her face.

“Hello.” Hannibal whispered back, leaning down to steal a quick kiss from his wife.

He remembers meeting her like yesterday. She was a young little thing, younger than him, about 8-9 years or so. Yet when Hannibal saw her, she was the most beautiful person he’d ever set eyes on. The young woman had just been coming into the book store, soaked from the rain outside, hair sticking to her face and yet she still had a smile painted on her dark red lips. Hannibal watched her as she greeted the older man who ran the shop warmly before shedding her coat to let it hang. She turned around and caught Hannibal staring yet she gave him a smile too. Her quick movements reminded Hannibal of a cat, yet when he looked into her eyes for a brief moment, he saw his own reflection.

“I’ve never seen you around here.” She tells him, running her fingers across the spines of books before pulling one out. It was an old book with a forest green cover.

“I don’t live here, I’m just here to visit my aunt.” Hannibal didn’t tell her that Lady Murasaki was long dead and that he was just here to visit her grave. His aunt was a crucial part of his life, she shaped him into the man he is today.

The young woman nodded in acknowledgment, her hair moving along with it.

“Well it’s nice to meet you..” She trailed off, waiting for Hannibal to introduce himself.

“Hannibal lecter.” The older man introduced himself, shaking her hand gently. It was as soft as she looked. In return (Y/n) introduced herself. The two grabbed their books and spoke about everything and anything. Hannibal learned that she went to medical school here and frequented this bookstore often, hence her close relationship with the owner. Hannibal told her of Lady Murasaki and how he’s in charge of keeping her home. Before they knew it, time had passed and it was the dead of night, Hannibal walked her home and from there it took them to now. A married couple.

“We should really clean up.” (Y/n) grimaced, pulling away from Hannibal’s embrace to look at the mess on the floor. Hannibal agreed with her, the blood won’t come out easily if it’s been too long.

Hannibal pulled away from the embrace and went back to chopping up the man while his wife began to mix the solutions for cleaning.

Within another hour or so they were done. (Y/n) stood at the entrance of the basement with her hands over her hips, heaving lightly from all the scrubbing she did. Her once neatly done hair was now falling out of its place messily. Hannibal disposed of the meat in the freezer before walking back to his wife and kissing her on the side of her head, gently leading her upstairs with his hand on the small of her back.

“With all that leftover meat, we ought to have another dinner party. There’s only so much we alone can eat.” (Y/n) grumbled to Hannibal as they both reached the first floor of their home. She walked into the kitchen and took out two wine glasses before pouring her and Hannibal some.

“I agree.” Hannibal nodded. “We should invite Will, Jack Crawford and Alana Bloom for dinner these days.” He finished, taking a sip of his wine, watching his wife’s stare on him harden.

“You know I don’t like her yet you keep inviting her. Don’t be surprised if she ends up as our dinner one day.” (Y/n) warns him, anger seeping through her voice. The young brunette clearly had a crush on Hannibal, everyone around her could tell. Hannibal used that crush to manipulate her. His wife on the other hand, wasn't too fond of another woman making heart eyes at someone who belonged to her.

“You worry for no reason, even in death my heart will belong to you. Alana Bloom can’t match your intelligence or grace.” Hannibal comforted his wife, running his hand up and down her arm and she tucked herself closer into him. The younger woman hummed in response, taking Hannibal’s hand in her own and playing around with his fingers.

“I still don’t like her. That smug little face she makes towards me whenever you talk to her. All I can think about at that moment is how nice my hair pin would look coated in her blood.” (Y/n)‘s hand clutched tightly around Hannibal’s as she thought about Alana bloom. The brunette woman never failed to enrage Hannibal’s wife.

“She’s not worth you pretty little thoughts.” The older man told his wife, dragging his nose from the back of her neck to the side of her head, planting a living kiss. (Y/n) smiled slyly, turning her body to face him fully.

“You think me wanting to feel Alana’s blood on my hands is pretty?” She asked him, still smiling and toying with his hair. Hannibal latched his arm around her waist and pulled her atop him.

“I think everything you do is pretty.” He tells her and she hums. The two sit in silence for a while, sipping on their wine. No need for mindless chatter, being by each other's side was all that they needed. Hannibal knew that his wife would never betray him under any circumstances and she knew that Hannibal would never do anything to harm her. However they both knew that to drag attention away from one another, they may need to harm each other. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, it ripped Hannibal’s heart apart to even think about hurting his pretty little wife. His pretty wife with doe eyes. His pretty wife with a sinister smile. The two were a match in every sense possible, both hunters who enjoyed the art of killing. They were skilled and under Hannibal’s expertise and care, his young wife went from an amateur to someone just as talented as Hannibal.

“It's getting late, moonshine.” Hannibal uttered into her hair, nosing her hairline. She was wrapped around him, like a cat. Hannibal thought that if reincarnation was real then his wife must’ve been a cat in her past life.

“Yes, honey, I know. However there are no plans set in place for tomorrow.” She grinned, turning around and crawling onto him fully now. Hannibal held his wife by the waist, grinning.

“Are you suggesting we stay up late tonight Mrs. Lecter?” He asked her, caressing her hair. The two smiled like a lovesick teen age couple. So in love that it made others sick. Jack Crawford was one of them, he’d known the famous Mrs. Lecter since he’d met Hannibal.

“Yes I am. In fact, I’m suggesting that we go out for some ice cream.” She tells him, running a finger down the buttons of his shirt. Hannibal gasps in faux shock.

“Scandalous. You’re so very scandalous.” He tells her, shaking his head in disappointment. They both know it’s just an act anyway, Hannibal would bend over back wards for her. (Y/n) giggled before getting up and grabbing her coat. She waited for Hannibal to join her giddily, like a child who had far too much sugar.

“Shall we go?” Hannibal asked her, offering his arm for her to hold. (Y/n)’s hand softly tucked itself into the crook of Hannibal's arm as they headed out. Into the dark of the night, like wolves hunting for prey.

Tagging my lovelies: @jake-g-lockley @shawty-writes-a-little <3

#hannibal #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #mads mikkelsen #will graham #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal x reader fluff #hannibal fluff #Hannibal Lecter fluff #Hannibal Lecter one shot #hannibal lecter imagine

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neptunes-sol-angel · 4 months

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Pile One

You’re shocking people with the ways that you are healing yourself. What they see as they witness your transformation, is the walking embodiment of a high priestess, the keeper of knowledge and a vessel of magnificent secrets. Who you are, in this healing era that you are in, is an enigma that won’t be locked away or censored. The way that you’re healing is spiritually ancestral. You possess the kind of wisdom that isn’t gained from age, it’s inherited. You’re a generational curse breaker, someone in your bloodline who finally recognizes a poisonous pattern in your family with the strength to be the one to not consume it. You’re observant, you’re emotionally intelligent, and you have a mind of your own even when growing up in an environment that was meant to control you, this era is making you embrace the thorns in your roses. You’re becoming the modern-day Joan of Arc by having more self-conviction even when being outnumbered by people trying to convince you out of what you know to be true. You’re healing the perception of purity and time in not just yourself but others too. If you grew up sheltered with a family relative that infantilized you with malicious intent to keep you dependent on them, your healing era is helping you break out of those barriers that kept you from making choices to improve your happiness, success, and progression. You’re no longer afraid of getting hurt or “tainted” in this world, you’re living for yourself and what makes you complete. Learning feels like freedom now because fear is no longer your teacher. Don’t feel down about being a late bloomer because it is better to be late than never, there may be people in this pile who approaching their 30s/40s and feel like they haven’t accomplished anything, but your healing era is reminding you that it is never too late. People forget that youth is ever flowing, you can’t flourish by remaining stagnant because of how you think you should be to achieve something. Don’t underestimate how massive things can change for you when you believe in how capable success is, as you already are. Your healing era is a correcting history, you won’t be burned at the stake this time, you’re going to be walking through fire by knowing that the secret power is to just keep moving.

Pile two

Immediately, I’m hearing “tuh...”. Yeah! This era in your healing journey has been long overdue, but at last bitch, it’s here. Speaking of bitch, you’re finally understanding that you’re THAT one, and you shouldn’t be humble about it anymore. Your enemies knew this before you did though, and of course, they had to attempt to knock you down a peg to make themselves feel better. This goes beyond people simply trying to make it seem like you’re not attractive when you are or people noticing your light but pretending not to see you until they get the validation from other people to do so. Your healing era is very much like this video I saw where people are like “it ain’t that deep” and this girl said, “okay puddle, I’m the ocean”, you’re realizing that yes, you cannot control the people that act crazy towards you because of their insecurities, but you can control and make it known about what you will not allow, and this is about your personal day-to-day interactions with people, like not keeping it in about the things that offend you and constantly giving grace to people who know that they’re exhibiting petty behavior to disrespect you. To stop trying to make “IDGAF” wars happen when you know that you actually do care about things, and it’s okay to do that regardless of what society thinks is cool nowadays. Your healing era consists of a makeover in love by no longer settling for shallow relationships or the utter thought of a situationship when you know that you want to be romanced and catered to like a deity. You’re bulldozing so much of who or what isn’t supportive for what you need as a person, and you aren’t afraid to do it because you now know your worth and that you have the tools to build everything over and this time in your image. Your social circle is improving, your experiences in loving others and being loved is improving, finances improving, and your skin might even be improving because this entire era of your healing is like one huge detox, you’re clearing out the toxicity out of your inner world. The words that debilitate your self-esteem, the people that say you can’t do something like starting your own business or going for that one opportunity that may get you to that amazing breakthrough, negative people and habits that make you believe the worst about yourself or that your life won’t get any better. Your healing era is about your life becoming the royal throne made to match the royal person such as yourself.

Pile Three

“You have a natural allegiance to losers and it’s unlike you”. Your healing era has a lot to do with removing yourself from situations that put you out of character. You’re moving towards more peaceful times and understanding how valuable your own energy is with an elevated fondness for spending time with yourself. You’re going to experience the kind of solitude that isn’t a punishment, but a strange feeling that may take some time to adjust to but at the same time, it’s familiar. Your healing era is about returning to normal and unlearning from the experiences that have left swords in your back. Maybe you grew up around “love”, your family and upbringing didn’t have to be perfect, but there was this innocence that you had before being out in the real world, this can look like experiencing emotionally unavailable people with communication issues and situations that have desensitized you. You could be questioning yourself about the people that are currently making you feel out of place right now, wondering what’s keeping you in these spaces that make you feel deprived of something or this paradox of still feeling empty and alone in a room filled with people. You’re healing from these effects of experiencing deficits, you don’t have to put up with certain things just to prove yourself to others or to make space for someone who doesn’t deserve to be in your life. How people perceive you in your healing era is someone who is genuinely unbothered and no longer giving your all to a situation that is unrequited. They see you full of life again instead of depleted from always putting yourself below others. They also see you essentially as someone that they can no longer exploit. You could be more private now, so it leaves others curious as to what you’re up to. You’re truly moving in silence because you’re noticing how beneficial it is to protect your intimate and professional life, people can act like they’re concerned about you or like they’re supportive until they see that you are doing better than them or up to something big. You’re focused on yourself, and it shows how much you’re manifesting your goals and even though looks aren’t everything, people are finding you to be majestically beautiful, your peace looks good on you. Keep protecting it.

#divination #intuitive #psychic #pick a card #tarot #spirituality #tarotblr #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a pile reading #healing #era

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dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling · 3 months

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Don't know what bayonetta is but bmo is my favorite character In adventure time. So I'm just writing the reader as acting like bmo. Hope that's okay!

Alastor and child reader

★ Well, aren't you a darling little thing? He's charmed. But don't think he's going to warm up to you immediately. Okay, that's a lie. Alastor warmed up to you in like 3 days.

★ Nobody knows where you parents are, assuming you have any. Where did this child come from? How in the 7 rings did you even make it this long in hell?? Why are you asking the radio demon to play cops and robbers with you?????

★ He was mostly confused when you started following him around the hotel. It was cute, sure, but also a bit annoying. At least at first. Scaring you never worked so he decided to just let you be as long as you don't get in his way.

★ After a few weeks of this routine he starts to accept that you aren't going anywhere. Charlie calls him your caretaker but he prefers the word tutor. It sounds better in his mind. Rolls off the tongue.

★ Knowing next to nothing about careing for children or even what they need, he purchased a book on the subject from Rosey. She had many questions about why he'd need such a thing.

★ She was so excited to learn her deer friend was taking care of a child. She simply must meet you! As soon as possible. Work can wait, personal matters come first.

★ Rosey adores you. Insisting that you call her aunty Rose. She lets you browse around the toy section in her emporium while conversing with Alastor. Knowing full well he's going to end up buying you a toy.

★ He enjoys teaching you the proper ways one should behave. The thought that he's teaching a future adult how to traverse through hell brings him joy. His lessons will stick for a lifetime! Oh, how he cannot wait to see you as an adult!

★ You play with the egg boys when everyone else is busy. A recipe for disaster if I've ever heard one. Thankfully you can't really do anything that bad because you're a small child. And the eggs are practically harmless by themselves.

★ "Oh y/n~ I'll be going out for a little excursion. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" "Okay, I love you! Good-bye!" You took what he said to heart and after he left you hit the TV with a stick because that's what Alastor would do.

★When he got back later and heard what happened he was so proud of you. (You didn't do any damage to the TV but it's the thought that counts)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel x Reader #Alastor x Reader #hazbin hotel headcanon #alastor x reader #alastor headcanons #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n

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actual-changeling · 9 months

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See, but there's something about the first fight in episode 1 that just doesn't really. fit. It very much feels like we are missing information here.

I have been thinking about this show all day, as one does, but in particular why Crowley gets angry enough to shoot literal lightning at a nearby building. We have experienced him upset before, but never to that specific degree, and their disagreement over Gabriel just does not explain it for me.

My hypothesis: a big, important fight happened right before season 2 picks up that left Crowley feeling rejected and Aziraphale neglected.

The biggest clue is the snippet of conversation about myself vs. ourselves.

"I thought we had carved it out for ourselves"

He almost sounds offended when he says that, yet Crowley reacts with equal parts hurt and anger, like he is referencing something that we, the viewer, do not have any knowledge of.

"So did I"

However, Aziraphale seems to understand whatever Crowley is referring to and does not respond with anything in return. Yet whatever wound they just opened keeps bleeding, and when Aziraphale tells him, packaged nicely, to fuck off, Crowley seems more sad than upset to me.

The to go? is almost said softly and with an initial confusion that hides a LOT of unspoken pain. Plus the HAND MOTION? The gesturing between the two of them while saying "oh, so this is how you wanna do this?" - call me insane, but to me that very much sounds like "oh so this is how you want to break up?"

The funny part is, if Aziraphale had simply shut up after saying "I want you to help me take care of him", I can GUARANTEE YOU that Crowley would have begrudgingly agreed. But he doesn't. He keeps going and this is the first moment this season where he is genuinely and truly bitchy.

"But if you won't, you won't" with the demonstrative sit-down and turning away from him, eyes forward. It pokes at whatever wound is still open and bleeding between them. Aziraphale wants Crowley to jump over his shadow and come help him, ignoring his boundaries. Meanwhile Crowley feels fundamentally misunderstood and rejected and wants Aziraphale to SHOW that he cares about Crowley more than he cares about fucking Gabriel of all people.

That he cares about them more than about heaven.

And now we have finally reached Crowley's breaking-point. he is so deeply hurt by what Aziraphale just said and did, choosing heaven over them, that the pain turns into anger because he has no other way of expressing or feeling it in the first place.

You're on your own with this one.

That last look is filled with such disappointed heartbreak, he turns around simply to give Aziraphale a chance to ask him to stay, to apologize, something. Yet again, he does not. He doesn't even meet his gaze, he is looking away.

To me, he seems almost spiteful, like this entire argument is only superficially about Gabriel but about something entirely else deeper down.

Which - that's the point, isn't it?

Crowley comes back and apologizes because Aziraphale matters more to him than stupid arguments or choosing sides, keeping him safe is the only thing he cares about when it comes down to it. He swallows down his hurt and betrayal and does what Aziraphale wants: ignoring the entire argument and pretending nothing ever happened so they can continue like before.

Only that they can't. The entire season shows just how much they cannot go back to their arrangement, no matter how hard Crowley tries to mold himself to Aziraphale's will. Their final argument simply reflects all of that and more. The same wound that first one was about gets reopened very violently and they're bleeding all over each other with no way to stop it because they're too fucking stubborn to admit that it exists in the first place.

Aziraphale and Crowley can only fix their relationship when they acknowledge the reason the rift between them opened up. Until then, Crowley feels truly rejected and Aziraphale feels entirely neglected, and there is nothing anyone can do to make them confront that.

#alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #good omens meta #aziracrow #crowly x aziraphale #go2 #literally there HAS to have been an argument between the seasons #something caused them to be like this in the first place #this didnt come out of nowhere and it wasn't completely slow either #there was a fight and they both know when they reference it but never actually talk about it #ineffable husbands more like ineffable IDIOTS

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luvv4j4ybe11 · 1 month

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just a silly little thought but can i request the sully brothers each reacting to the reader having a bush? 👀 i never see this often written!

Tbh…tbh….i had to write this bc it was brewin in my head ever since i saw that you sent this in, nonnie😭

(Also, I’d just like to say that if this makes you uncomfortable just simply unfollow me/keep scrolling/wtv you need to do to not feel like that. What you read is NOT under my control. Just had to say that before I continue☺️💕)

Dividers by: @cafekitsune

Warnings: p in v, reader as a bush (duh), switch dynamics, degradation, praise, aged up! Neteyam, aged up! Lo’ak, cum play, mentions of impregnation, cunnilingus, and I think that’s it. Enjoy, babies<3 (btw this isn’t proofread, so if there’s errors I apologize!)

- Neteyam wouldn’t care at all, if anything he finds it more attractive than when you don’t shave

- will purposely eat you out for hoursss because the feeling of your thighs + the little curly hairs rubbing against his face drives him crazy

- also is soo notorious for insisting to cum inside of you/cum directly onto your pussy, because he just loves the mess it makes. The sight of his and your own cum covering your tired cunt and thighs makes him wanna breed you untill it takes. (RAHH NETEYAM WITH A BREEDING KINK😩)

- loves to cup your pussy in his big ass hand, and he’ll slowly slide a finger inside of you while he shushes and coos a mixture of praises and degradation. Especially if you try to push away from him because of embarrassment of the little patch of hairs you have adorning your precious cunt.

“Awh, babygirl, why are you gettin all shy now? You were too shy when you were begging for me to cum inside of you, like the little slut you are...or when you see begging for me to stretch your tiny pussy out with my cock…you know there’s no need to feel embarrassed around me, babygirl. I love you endlessly.”

- also is so obsessed with how much your natural scent is increased when you don’t shave, so whenever he eats you out he’s always in a trance because of it. He won’t stop untill you physically cannot anymore(but even then he’ll pry another one out of u☺️)

- will purposely fuck you in missionary because he loves watching the strings of the both of your juices sticking to his lower abdomen that connect to your pussy. It’s just more fuel for him to breed you.

- regardless tho, he loves you and your body (+more) unconditionally and will support anything you choose to do with it<3

- now, Lo’ak, is a frl menace when it comes to this (but what else is new😭)

- mf will deadass tell you not to shave bc he finds your bush so attractive

- and if you do he’ll be so pissy about it😭one time you did he didn’t talk to you for 2 days bc he was so mad, (and you made fun of him for it once he finally came back bc he was acting like a child😭)

- whenever you’re feeling insecure about it/your body in general he’ll be stuck to your side all day, never leaving your body untouched and never leaving your mind with a doubt. He’ll be stuck between your legs for hours while telling you how beautiful you are and how pretty your body is.

- also js is such a munch in general, he’ll always beg to taste you before he leaves your side. And when he actually gets to it, babyboy gets so needy and whiney:( poor boy is slurping and sucking at your over sensitive clit while his cock is twitching and drooling with precum, so much that it leaves a little puddle on the floor:(

- and if you tug his hair whenever he hits your sweet spot, the neediest whine will come from him. It startled you at first, but when you looked down at him you were met with the most pathetic little face ever, his ears were pinned to his skull, face completely covered in your slick, lips all puffy, eyes all lust hazed and needy, and let’s not forget how much his tail would be swaying and wrapping around any body part of yours it can grab. He’s like an excited little puppy when it comes to going down on you, he can’t help it:(

- a bonus if you hit him with the hair tug + praise combo(and if you wrap your thighs around his head extra tight☺️) bc he’ll be complete putty in your hands. All kinda of desperate whines and moans will come from him as he makes you cum for the 5th time that night.

- he gets so whiney too, he’ll constantly beg you for “just one more” when you know you’re too overstimulated

“I know you can give me one more, mama. You don’t even have to do anything, I’ll do all the work, ok? Please just gimme one more…please, mama?”

- also will purposely fuck you in mating press/missnonary because he loves how your slick will stick to his v line and connects him back to your cunt

- when you two are done and you’re both ready to go to sleep, he always ends up fucking your thighs lightly, and always makes sure to rub between your folds with his length js so he can tease you and bc of the feeling of the little curly hairs rubbing against his tip makes him dizzy with pleasure

- besides all of that tho, he loves you no matter what, and whatever you choose to do with your body he’ll support ( just give him two days)

A/N~ I almost wasn’t even gonna post this bc I lost the whole fucking thing the first time, but I did it!! Tbh it was nice to write smth that wasn’t the fics I’ve been working on, so ty nonnie for sending this in!! And I hope this is everything you hoped and dreamed for😭 bc I kinda felt like I was talking out my ass the whole time. ANYWAY! stay safe, and stay hydrated, love you babies<3

Duces🫶🏽,

luvv4j4ybe11

Taglist~ @tallulah477 @hotdsworld @plooto @blue-slxt @itchaboi-itchyboy @xylianasblog @etherial-moon-blog @criticallybella @professional-yapper

(If you’d like to be added to my general taglist or removed js lmk!! And if your tag isn’t working, check your settings💕.)

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theemissuniverse · 7 months

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HOW JEALOUS OR POSSESSIVE IS HE WITH FEM!READER? JOHNNY CAGE EDITION

SUMMARY : Title kinda speaks for itself

A/N: Couldn’t help but think about this random headcanon for Johnny after I saw someone write him the complete opposite of what I’m about to say lmao

WARNINGS : (MDNI)! Mentions of sex

MASTERLIST

Johnny is definitely not a jealous or possessive boyfriend. He is too full of himself to even believe that you, his girlfriend, would ever leave him for another person.

He’s very secure in his relationship. He’s also not one of those boyfriends that are like “you can’t wear that in public.” Johnny most definitely wants you to wear the hottest clothes so he can show off how hot you really are.

He loves it when people stare at you. Loves it. He knows you’re hot and he’s not gonna “punish” you just because other people find you hot.

Johnny loves this because he knows they cannot have you. Sometimes he’ll be a little petty and kiss all over you while flipping whoever is staring at you off. But he would never get pissed over it.

If a guy were to ever flirt with you, Johnny would be extremely amused. Especially if the guy did it in front of him. In fact, Johnny would simply cross his arms and take a step back and let you two “talk” knowing what you would do/say.

Most likely, Johnny will be like, “Yeah, (Y/N). Go ahead and give him your number.” You’ll listen to him but what the guy doesn’t know is that you’re actually giving Johnny’s number. Not your number. Then later when the guy texts Johnny expecting it to be you, Johnny will send him a bunch of laughing emojis and a semi explicit picture of the two of you before blocking him.

But if a girl were to flirt with you, Johnny is definitely encouraging it. (To be very clear, I cannot stand guys that do that but I’m making this as realistic to the character as I possibly can and let’s be honest, Johnny would definitely find the idea with you being with another woman hot.) You’ll roll your eyes slightly at Johnny encouraging it and inform the woman that he is actually your boyfriend which Johnny will just say, “don’t let your boyfriend stop you from finding your future wife.”

If anything, I believe you could have intimacy with other women and Johnny couldn’t care less. (Again as I bisexual woman I find men doing that stupid but like I said, making this as realistic as possible.) Johnny is also not stupid though. He would never ask you in a million years to have a threesome. He likes living.

Johnny is not “keeping tabs” on you. He’s not stalking you and doesn’t need to be breathing on your neck. All he wants from you is to tell him where you’re going and for you to check in every hour so he knows that you’re okay. Other than that, he encourages you to do whatever you please.

He does not care in the slightest of you having “guy friends.” As long as they are obviously not douchebags and try to hit on you. He will admit, he’d much prefer you having the same guy friends that he has but as long as your guy friends are being respectful of boundaries then he’s not really getting upset over it.

One thing he’d probably get mad at is if one of your guy friends out does him. For example, say Johnny buys you a gift that’s expensive but not too crazy and then your guy friend buys you something crazy out of this world expensive. Yeah, Johnny’s gonna pout like a child.

It’s mainly because gifts are his love language so he’ll definitely hate that someone got the upper hand on that.

Johnny doesn’t go through your phone to try and find something. He trusts you. He also doesn’t even believe your phone is that interesting to go through anyway.

All in all, Johnny trusts you and is not bothered by feelings of “jealousy.” Like I said, he’s too full of himself to believe you’d leave all that “greatness” for someone else that’s most likely “mid.”

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 #mk #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mortal kombat game #mk1 x reader #mk x reader

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orobaxis · 1 year

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I loved your Ominis fic so much! It felt like I was there with him 🤭 for prompts I couldn’t decide between “You need to know that I have grown to care for you. Deeply." and "I can't fathom the idea of my life without you in it." It could be angsty or not I don’t mind 😊

“deeply”

ominis gaunt x f!reader (hogwarts legacy)

ominis starts to avoid you.

word count: 2849

warning: some pureblood purity nonsense, f!reader may be muggleborn or a half-blood

beware of spoilers in the comments/tags/reblogs!

“what's wrong with you and ominis?”

you frown, eyes not leaving your plate as you give anne a shrug. you don’t know, really, what’s going on between you and ominis. he just suddenly became so distant to you.

at first, you thought it was just you. you thought you were going a bit paranoid, or that you were overthinking it. because ominis always sits with you, that was his place, that was where people expected to find him in the great hall. wherever y/n was, ominis wasn’t far behind.

it started when he raced anne to sit beside sebastian for lunch. you don’t think they noticed, and anne was just all too happy to sit beside you and chat, but you did. he was supposed to sit beside you, so why didn’t he? you chalked it up to him wanting to talk (argue) with seb, and thought nothing of it.

next was when you arrived to the library shortly after your potions class. you always go to the library after potions to try to work on your homework, you had a dedicated nook and ominis would join you and you would both nag the twins to start their homework (and not copy yours). but one day, he just…wasn’t there. you were beginning to get worried, then, wondering if he wasn’t feeling well, or if you did something to upset him. so that night, you try to catch him in the common room.

he didn’t show up. you four would usually sit by the large windows overlooking the lake, waiting for the giant squid to greet you while pranking other students. but when sebastian told you that “he said he wanted to rest”, your heart formed a little crack in it. and every day he started to avoid you, the crack just grew a little bit bigger.

“i think…he’s avoiding me,” you tell anne. despite being close to ominis, you and anne share a sisterly bond that was forged early in your lives and stronger than the very foundations of magic. there are things you simply cannot talk to seb or ominis about (for one, your…budding feelings towards the latter), and it’s always anne who you turn to in times like these. “he hasn’t talked to me for days now.”

anne scrunches her face in displeasure. “that isn’t like ominis at all, he’s not ignoring me, and certainly not my brother,” she turns to you warily, “do you think it was something you did? something you said?”

“i’m trying to remember, but i’m certain i haven’t said or done anything that could have upset ominis,” the tone of your voice is sadder now, disparaging, “that i know of.”

anne, ever the optimist, reaches for your hand and squeezes it, “well, whatever it is, i’m sure ominis will come around. he can’t stay away forever, you know?”

feeling somewhat comforted, you give her a terse smile. do you know that?

it might be best to stay away. ignoring the thumping of his heart and the fluttering in his stomach, ominis flicks his wand, and the howler is engulfed in flames before it can disintegrate. he is thankful for the privacy of the undercroft at this moment, although he knows that any one of his friends can pop in, the message in the howler was not something he wanted them to hear.

son,

we have heard rumours about you associating with some…unsavoury folk—

is that really what they think of her? of y/n? because she wasn’t born from a prominent pureblood family, because she associates herself with muggleborn professor garlick, because she loves all things that grow and not fascinated in the dark arts?

does his family really think less of her because of her birth?

ominis made a hard and rash decision, and it has been going well. however, he’s certain that you are starting to get suspicious by now. you are a smart witch, you know that he’s been avoiding you. but ominis thinks there is no other option. in order to keep you away from his family’s sharp and piercing gaze, it is better to distant himself from you. it is for your own safety. he cannot have them sink their infected claws into the only comfort he has away from home. no matter how hard it is, ominis has to keep away.

which is becoming hard, seeing your history together. having barely separated, you have all the same classes together. herbology, for one, is your favourite class, and you had paired with him to care for a pot of chinese chomping cabbage. this is going to be a lot harder than he thought, seeing as you had rooted yourself deep into his routine, his life, and his heart.

feeling emboldened by your conversation with anne, you are hopeful that ominis will finally break his silence in herbology. you are partners, and you have to discuss how to properly care for this rather…biting…flora.

your anxious smile drops a bit when ominis says nothing when you greet him, only standing away from the potting station, seemingly indifferent.

“so…i thought we should start trimming our cabbage and feed it some carrots,” you suggest slowly, trying to gauge any reaction. “and maybe water it before we leave. what do you say, ominis?”

the smile is replaced by a frown when you see him looking away from you, something he hasn’t done since you two started being friends. he is attentive like that, whenever you talk to him, he would turn to your general direction, making sure you know that he was listening to you. now, you aren’t so sure that he’s not let your words pass through one ear and out the other.

ominis only shrugs, “do whatever you think is right,” and turns away from your completely.

disheartened, you turn to the potting station, trying to ignore the tightening of your throat and the sharp sting of tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. you silently tend to your plant for the rest of the class.

“why are you ignoring y/n?”

sebastian finds him sulking close to the defense against the dark arts classroom. this is also one of your favourite hauntings, enjoying the tea the biscuits when you have a free period.

ominis sighs, knowing that he cannot really avoid the question forever. he also knows how persistent sebastian can be, and it would be no use to hide it from him. despite this, he tries to play dumb at first, “what makes you say that?”

“well, for one, you haven’t been sitting next to her or talking to her for a couple of days now. and in herbology, you’d think someone made her watch a niffler getting tortured with how sad she looked.” sebastian’s tone is accusatory.

the gaunt boy frowns as he imagines how much his actions hurt you, only giving you one sentence answers whenever you ask questions in class and avoiding you as much as he can. he hates that he’s the reason you were so down in herbology earlier.

“and anne has been pestering me to ask you,” sebastian adds, “which means you better tell me now before she comes here and beats it out of you.”

ominis scoffs, “like she’d eve—”

“ominis, the only reason she hasn’t hexed you is because she’s busy comforting y/n right now. as soon as she’s done, you best believe we’ll both be on the receiving end of a mean stinging hex.”

well, ominis couldn’t argue with that.

“it’s my parents,” he tells sebastian, “they owled me, wrote to me that i shouldn’t be associating with ‘unsavoury folk’ and those who are ‘lesser’. that i am slytherin’s heir and should not be seen with someone who has muggle parentage and friends with muggleborns.”

sebastian blanches at that. “how dare they!”

“you might think that’s that, but it’s also a threat. they are telling me to stop now, or else they will find her.”

“and this…this is why you’re staying away?”

ominis nods, “i don’t want my family to even think of her. to look at her or touch her. i cannot have them taint her.”

he waits as sebastian goes silent, trying to process what he just said. he is not hoping for a solution, nor comfort.

“but…you’re hurting her. and yourself.”

ominis says nothing. he doesn’t need to. what more can he say?

you want to believe that you’re getting used to the silence. but you really can’t. it’s so different without ominis’ presence, without his (overly) doting nature, or his commentary whenever seb does anything stupid. while you still wonder what it is you did to make him ice you out, you also start to muster the courage to talk to him alone and ask him about it.

relaying this to anne, you two try to find the right “opportunity” to catch ominis off guard so that you can confront him. he seemingly catches on to it though, now sticking beside sebastian at any cost. sebastian is also a bit subdued, and that is something you should ask about in a while as well.

it’s so strange to find ominis across the table from you in the great hall, face turned away from you like he is deliberately letting you know he doesn’t want to acknowledge your presence. anne has been helpful, sitting beside you and initiating conversation, but it’s not the same.

it’s not the same without him.

so when the owls started arriving and delivering packages, you consider it a welcome surprise to receive one.

“oh, a package!” anne exclaims excitedly, “who is it from?”

you turn over the package, the smile on your face replaced by a frown, “i don’t know. it’s unmarked.”

at that, ominis can feel the hair on the back of his neck standing, and he sits up straighter. “don’t open it.”

you look up to ominis, surprised that he not only was listening to you (and ignoring you on purpose), but that he talked to you. even if it was just to tell you not to open a package.

sebastian purses his lips and nods, “he’s right, y/n. it could be some prank from someone.”

or something related to the dark arts that is meant to curse you, he and ominis think.

ominis has a gnawing feeling of anxiety, wondering if it was his family who sent you this mysterious package. do they really think he wouldn’t know about it? why would they send something potentially dangerous in such a conspicuous way?

“alright,” you acquiesce, now thinking that it couldn’t hurt to be on the safe side. it would be terrible if the package turned out to be a prank, wondering if it would explode when you open it or splash you with something pungent. “i’ll open it outside.”

“i will open it,” ominis states, and it sounds final. you stare at him, contemplating on whether this would be the right time to ask him, if he has decided he’s had enough of ignoring you and you can go back to the way it was. the finality in his words seem to suggest that he does not tryst whatever is in that package. his arms extend across the table to you, “i’ll keep it in the undercroft for now.”

blinking in surprise, you raise your eyebrow, “you want to hide it there?”

he nods tersely, “just to make sure it doesn’t explode on you. after classes we will go to the beach and open it.”

resigned, you hand the package over to him, taking the moment to bask in the feeling of his fingers brushing against your own. as quickly as it happened, ominis’ hands are gone, and he stands up, wand blinking red in front of him. he doesn’t say anything as he leaves for the undercroft.

sebastian says nothing when he hears your sigh of defeat.

the four of you find yourselves at the beach after class, eyeing the suspicious package tucked under ominis’ arm.

“i didn’t find any traces of dark arts in the package,” he says, “but we can never be too careful. i will place it on the ground and i need you all to back away as far as you can.”

“will you be safe?” you blurt out, your worry for him trumping the other confusing feelings you have bubbling up your chest, “if this is some kind of…dark arts artifact…i think it would be best if we get a teacher involved.”

ominis thought about that, of course. “if it’s dark arts, then i might be able to find a way to control it. and then you can go and fetch professor hecat.”

still wary, you voice your assent, grabbing anne’s hand for support.

you watch ominis take a deep breath, sebastian standing not too far from him, ready to catch him if anything happens as well as to guard you and anne.

ominis waves his hand in a flourish, and you all held your breaths as the packaging tears open to find…

a book.

thick, and well-used, it looks like…an ordinary textbook.

you shuffle towards ominis curiously, ignoring sebastian’s calls, and peeked to see what it is.

“oh, it’s a book,” you comment. you get close enough to read the title, even as ominis extends his arm to stop you from getting any closer. “it’s the herbology book i’ve been looking for!”

“what book?” ominis asks, still distrustful.

“i asked deek the house elf to help me find a book on herbology that professor garlick mentioned. he said he knew where that missing book may have been hidden. he must have sent it to me when he found it.”

you cautiously move away from ominis hold, reaching for the book. “see? it’s harmless. deek probably just didn’t put his name on it.”

“so, it’s not evil?” sebastian asks.

you raise the book and wave it, smiling, “nope!”

“merlin’s beard! that gave me quite the fright,” anne exclaims, hands on her chest, “this was all just a big misunderstanding!”

you smile, before subtly turning your gaze to ominis. he is quiet, once again icing you out. he nods stiffly before raising his wand, proceeding to walk away.

“ominis, wait!” you call out.

you see him hesitate, stopping his tracks for a moment. he clears his throat, “i’m glad you’re safe.”

he finds out by the large windows in the common room, one of your favourite spots.

you were learning your forehead against the window, listening to the sound of water behind the thick glass.

“the giant squid isn’t here,” ominis remarks, “i couldn’t hear it.”

he cannot see the sad smile on your face. “thank you for letting me know, i think it’s better knowing that instead of waiting for nothing.”

oh.

he doesn’t like the sound of your voice when it’s sad.

before he can process it, he is standing in front of you, hands clenched at his sides. “i’m sorry y/n. i know i hurt you…but…”

your voice is small and muffled against the window, “i don’t know what i did for you to push me away like this.”

“my family has threatened to hurt you if i don’t stay away,” he blurts out, and you sit up in surprise.

“what?” you are shocked, to say the least.

“that’s why i was so worried about the package. i was afraid that they had sent you a cursed object because you…because you associate yourself with me.

but y/n, you need to know that i have grown to care for you. deeply,” ominis doesn’t want to admit how much he’s shaking, how it is obvious from the way he sounds that his shaky voice is about to crack and his throat tight as he struggles to keep his emotions at bay, “you are the last thing i want my family to touch. i couldn’t let them hurt you. not you.”

you exhale, tears now flowing down your cheeks. you stand in front of him and grasp his hands, which are cold, clammy, and shaking.

“oh ominis,” you squeeze his hands, slowly making your way closer until your forehead rests against his. feelings that you thought are yours to keep, buried deep and untouched in your heart, are starting to rise. “i cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it. i don’t care what your family thinks. i will be fine as long as i’m with you. with seb and anne. with our family.”

ominis starts to break, exhaling as he feels your skin touch his, your smell invading his senses and your warmth soothing his tormented soul. “i cannot lose you, y/n. not to them.”

smiling through your tears, you raise your arms to pull him into a hug. “you won’t lose me, ominis. i promise you.”

there may be a lot of work to be done, more talks to be had, with regards to your feelings and his, on how to navigate these feelings and desires while also making sure that his family never touches you, but for now, ominis basks in your presence and in the love you have for him. and for now, that is enough.

aaaahhh sped write this minutes before a class presentation. i hope it’s fine. thank you for your patience with my writing styles/formatting as i try to find the best style/layout to write. thank you for the overwhelming love!!!

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt imagine #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts imagine #hogwarts legacy imagine #sebastian sallow #anne sallow

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iridescentdove · 9 months

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What about a Platonic! BSD x Child! Reader is very smart, like almost Ranpo-level smart, but they don’t use their smarts and intellect for anything at all except for online video games, board games, etc., and they’re lazy and don’t go outside at all. Plus, the first time Reader and Dazai had a game of chess, Dazai literally lost two moves in, and Dazai was rethinking his entire life choices in that moment because how the fu-

(How Dazai and Reader’s game of chess went *REAL* link)

WHY DO I HEAR BOSS MUSIC?

platonic!bsd x child!smart!reader

A/N: I for an odd reason, love it when characters are humbled and seen inferior 😭 I love this request too! Here it is~

Everyone loves you.

I'm so jealous rn /j

Well as a kid it would be expected to be like that! Although, it was a little different as you were ... considered unique to other children around you. How so?

ULTRA DEDUCTION BABY.

No but for real. FUKUZAWA merely took you into the agency since you seemed to have had no parents by your side to take care of you. As such, he took on the responsibility himself. The agency takes care of you now! <3

Anyways, let's say you were basically rivalling RANPO in terms of deduction and overall smartness capabilities, as he now thinks you are a worthy opponent.

But even he himself lost to someone like DAZAI.

Yes. Of course it was true, the suicidal detective just seemed to be way too good. The so-called 'world's best detective' had lost to a man, in which who, flirts with women 24/7 and asks for double suicide everywhere he went.

But to say the day came when brunette's demise lurked around the corner ... because of a chess game.

The agency had nothing important going on in particular as the peace of Yokohama was maintained in the meantime. Simply put, you guys were on vacation. So what else to do other than some old family bonding?

There were lots of activities planned that day, and everyone had enjoyed it to the fullest. You did also find it fun, but ... of course, for someone your age – you were mature as fuck.

And so, you did what everyone wouldn't have the balls to do.

Challenge DAZAI OSAMU himself to a chess match.

So obviously, everyone got a bit nervous. Pretty sure you had no idea how smart the suicidal maniac was, nor did they ever believe you would last a good 'ol round even once. By some experience of a certain detective – there is absolutely no one better than DAZAI himself.

The chess game went on. You looked so cute and innocent! Maybe he should go easy on you?? After all, you're just a kid.

And yet ... he was downright horrified.

In a matter of four turns in, the death-craving young man was absolutely OBLITERATED by you. Upon the match ending, a pin drop silence was heard. Eyes widened in shock, whom even RANPO himself never imagined such. Everyone never spoke, not even coughed for a solid 5 minutes.

But it was true. You DID defeat him. FUKUZAWA had the face of a very proud parent – he really didn't think you'd emerge victory in this small innocent match.

The president promised to treat you out next time a successful mission was in tow. Of course, DAZAI couldn't believe he had lost to you! A little child!

It would definitely take a lot of time for him to wrap his head around that – but once he does, oh boy.

I think you a little crazy there uncle ahaha

He almost literally brags about your existence everyday to anyone. You can't tell me he hasn't literally shoved in and mocked in front of people's faces with that shit eating grin of his oh my fucking God 😭

Then again, no one is safe. An even better gifted than the two greatest treasures of the Armed Detective Agency.

FYODOR better be shaking in his fugly ass boots.

You're coming for him alright. (and so am I)

Honestly, the ADA cannot be anymore proud to have an ally like you by their side. Missions and war would cease to exist from how well you managed to help them. And even moreso, combined with RANPO himself.

World destruction who?? I only know (Y/N) (L/N) 😍

Your existence is known, everyone knows about what you've done and how respected you are despite your young age.

Who tf let the Port Mafia fuck ya'll up?? Oh nevermind they were destroyed because of ur amazing little ass. The Hunting Dogs tryna tear apart the ADA which was mistaken as terrorists? Umh chill anyways so you already had a plan– RANPO doesn't know what to do for once? You're already there to help. Decay of the Angels? Lives up to their name, they're decaying under your superior brain and intellect.

You're just found to be the lifeline of the agency. In return, everyone treats you very well (spoils you even), making sure you lived your days as a child to the best extreme possible.

And to be frank – no one dare underestimate you anymore.

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #platonic bsd #armed detective agency #ada x reader #bsd #decay of angels #port mafia #ranpo edogawa #dazai osamu

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behoright · 1 year

Text

boyfriend! braden schneider in bed

the way nobody asked for this….. go blame @hoesforthecanes

warnings: smut and sexual situations obvi. 18+! onlyyy

- dsjfhksdf SO

- sweet boy Braden

- the most monogamous person sorry

- he loves that you’re his girl and his girl only

- in every sense

- very protective a lil jealous

- nothing that guys can’t talk about but yes it does bother him if other men look at you because

- “you’re mine.”

- not necessarily in an aggressive way but he’s very territorial let’s say

- oh but he has the biggest heart eyes for you

- he wanted to make sure he really really liked you before trying anything

- like the fact that you’re his girlfriend turns him tf ON

- so yes he did make sure to ask you to be his girl properly and directly

- and yes he did wait until then to take you to bed

- and he is so sweet

- melts in your mouth sweet

- i feel like he’s sort of always staring at you a lil bit

- but when he wants you

- he CANNOT take his eyes off you

- wherever you guys are you will feel him staring, burning into you

- if you ask him anything ???? The lights are on but there’s no one home

- he can only say yes or no

- “You… alright, babe?”

- and he just nods slowly and he keeps studying your face

- thinking about all the ways he can have you

- the wheels are just endlessly turning in there

- like you KNOW you have to go home because this man has tuned everything out

- if you don’t go home soon enough he’ll start to get touchy

- like veeeeery touchy

- he does not! Care! He will straight up grope you in public

- squeeze your ass while his body is fully against you….

-…. At the grocery store. He cannot compute anything but you rn

- in bed he’s really just as tender

- he really loves slow sex especially after a date or something

- Braden like to soak up everything when you guys are together

- no pun intended

- he loves sex w you and he’s very present for every single moment

- more of a sensual person than a sexual one tbh

- he does love to be inside you but also everything else that hints or regards sex drives him crazy

- so he can make out with you for hours

- he loves it when it’s slow and romantic or hard and sloppy and needy

- he loves feeling his tongue run against yours like there’s something about that

- it makes his cock so hard so quick

- when you run your hands on his skin

- like if you rub his thighs or his hips it makes him crazy

- he loves it when you grind against him too

- or feeling your underwear soak through ???? Oof

- you’ve made out while just touching each other over your underwear for hoursss

- a big big talker

- you cannot quiet him down in the bedroom

- words just come out of him

- whether he’s fucking you or eating you out or whatever it is

- LOOOVES to talk into your skin

- “You’re so pretty when you moan like that.”

- talks into your pussy constantly

- literally with spit dribbling from his lips

- “You’re so fucking gorgeous. you taste so good, baby, it drives me wild.”

-“i can feel you pulsating against my tongue, my girl.”

- loves to praise but ummm loves to be praised more

- if you tell him he’s doing a good job…. Game over

- it turns him on so much that his whole body twitches as his cock gets harder

- it’s almost too much to take for him

- he gets lightheaded seriously

- whenever you tell him how good he’s making you feel/how good it feels/etc

- he squeezes his eyes tight tight

- because he doesn’t want to be distracted by anything and just focus on your words and the pleasure

- “you’re so good to me, B. No one has ever made me feel like this.”

- if you keep the talk going he starts to shake

- like telling Braden that he played well when you meet him outside of the locker room is dangeroussss

- he’d get so blushy jskdfhklasjd

- foreplay is his thing

- there’s been times that you two have cum multiple times simply from playing with each other

- and he’s so good with that

- 69…. A favorite of his

- he likes it that you guys touch each other at the same time

- all of this meaning that you guys can go at it all night

- def loses track of time buried in between your legs

- and he LOVES to cum more than once

- he figured out if he can get past the initial overstimulation it feels so good to cum again

- he’s figured out a way to have a good pace when you guys fuck or play so that you’re both at the edge of overstimulation but not there and it’s titillating

- sex is always always always hours long he’s not a guy that messes with quickies

- it’s sacred time between you two

- if he goes in with heart eyes he comes out of it with even bigger feelings for you. The goal is always to bring you guys closer no matter what the physical outcome is

- his kryptonite is teasing tho

- he’s the most needy when he’s horny

- teasing would drive him insane

- he has this insane belief that maybe if he waits it out he will feel less horny

- but it never happens that way. The more he waits the harder he gets

- until his cock is so swollen

- like a dark, deep red, throbbing swollen

- that he can’t take it anymore

- he doesn’t like to take anything from you but he’ll def voice it

- “baby, please, let’s go home”

- “I fucking need you so bad”

- “you want to feel what you’re doing to me? Touch it, baby, no one’s looking right now.”

- all muttered in your ear while he checks around

- and when he’s needy he gets

- whimpery

- any little touch or praise makes him whimper

- audibly !

- or groan too. Like the deepest groan

- that being said

- when he’s traveling…. His biggest nightmare

- porn will simply not do it for him he could care less about any random ass video

- he loves getting nudes from you but will never ever ever ask

- he needs your FaceTime dates

- NEEDS them

- or he loses it

- mentally he’s not there without the daily FaceTimes

- this man is so golden retriever cute he’ll set up his phone and everything

- he was actually really shy to ask you first so you guys had a talk about it

- the first roadies you’d send each other snapchats with the audio ON

- the amount of snaps you’ve gotten that the camera is shaky because he’s coming so hard but he still tries to keep it in focus :’)

- until one day he just FaceTimed you

- “baby, I just, I fucking miss you so much, I’m going to explode.”

- “look how fucking hard you made me, and you’re not even here.”

- and he’s fully naked on the hotel bed flushed flushed flushed and sweaty

- “nothing will do it, baby, I need you. i need to see you, please.”

- so whiny it’s endearing

- you stripped for him and touched yourself on FaceTime and he came so so quickly

- so now it’s kinda exciting when he goes on trips because you know it’ll be a lil different in the best way possible

- when he gets really desperate he-

- “I’m going to fly you out, fuck, I don’t fucking care. I’m flying you out, I need to touch you.”

- while he’s pumping at his cock so feverishly

- his legs twitch too and seeing every muscle move involuntarily while he grinds up into his hand…

- makes you lose it

- being in the hotel does not stop the talk

- “Can I see you? let me see, doll.”

- “Please touch yourself for me, baby. Look how pretty your pussy is, god.”

- “I’ve been edging all day for you, baby.”

- “i can’t wait to see you, princess, i can’t wait to be inside you again.”

- and when he cums

- oh

- it’s like the world shakes

- his head fully goes back into his pillow

- eyes fluttering stuck on the ceiling

- mouth slack open

- and the loudest, deepest groan you’ve ever heard

- he does not give a shit about any chirps

- like not only single fuck given

- it just feels too good

- giggles after he cums kfhaskjfh

- 10/10 you guys

#braden schneider #Braden schneider blurb #Braden schneider smut #Braden schneider rpf #Braden schneider imagine #Braden schneider x reader #new york rangers #nhl #nhl smut #smut #blurb #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl imagines #nhl rpf #nhl imagine #hockey #kikiwrites

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tomriddleslove · 4 months

Text

Forgotten once again.

✩Tom Riddle x Reader

Summary: The one where Tom isn’t capable of love, but you thought you could change that. Alternatively: Possesiveness and Love become the same thing.

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this one because Tom’s character is sm fun to write. It’s interesting because despite my delusions I couldn’t ever imagine him being capable of loving someone, and if he did it would be like this. Also this is probably the last time i’ll post for the next three weeks!

Warnings: Toxic Relationships, mentions of manipulation, violence (towards others). Generally about a very toxic and unhealthy relationship so please do not read if you’re triggered by anything to do with this! My inbox is always open if you ever need someone to talk to 🫶🏼.

Songs: Leaving Tonight - The Neighbourhood

Spectre - Radiohead

Tom Riddle was many things.

For one, he was ambitious. He would achieve whatever he so desired. If he had the means to do it, it would be done immediately. If he did not, well...

He would find the means to do so. Because Tom Riddle achieved whatever he so desired.

He was also charismatic.

Tom had a natural charisma that drew people to him. Whether through his charm, intelligence, or a combination of both, he had a magnetic presence that captivated those around him. This charisma played a significant role in his ability to influence and manipulate others to further his ambitions.

Tom Riddle was brilliant. Gifted with a sharp mind and a keen understanding of magic, he excelled in his studies. His intelligence, coupled with his ambition, allowed him to delve into dark magic and ancient mysteries, seeking knowledge and power that others might shy away from.

Tom Riddle was many things, but there was only one thing he lacked.

Perhaps it was karma, some form of divine intervention, his hamartia, that it was this very thing that would be his downfall in the years to come.

Tom was many things, but loving was not one of them.

Tom Riddle was not loving. No - he was not capable of love.

Tom Riddle, was incapable of experiencing genuine love due to being conceived under the influence of a love potion, not true love. The circumstances of Tom’s conception were marked by coercion and manipulation, as his mother, Merope Gaunt, used a love potion to attract and bind Tom Riddle Sr. to her. It was artificial and devoid of true affection. This was a concrete and inexplicably tragic detail that meant Tom Riddle simply was not physically capable of reciprocating love.

Key word, reciprocating. For, it was very much possible for someone to fall in love with Tom. A cruel thing it would be, for one cannot simply love Lucifer himself and expect to be loved in return. Tom Riddle's incapacity for reciprocating love stemmed from a profound emotional void rather than an inability to elicit affection from others.

This fact was a cruel truth that you only chose to accept once it was too late. One does not simply get involved with Tom Riddle, and come out unscathed.

Tom never cared for love, really. To him, it was just some sort of transaction or tool, something to be manipulated for his own benefit. Love, in Tom Riddle's eyes, was a means to an end rather than an intrinsic value. It was a sentiment that he observed in others but never truly felt himself.

Love, however, seemed to be the most raw, human thing in existence. It was everything we hated, yet also everything we loved. It unravelled our deepest insecurities, it brought things to the surface that we had long pushed to the side. It required us to lay ourselves, bare, for the other to see. Love made us tolerate the very worst of things, love made us hate the very best of things.

Many things can be complementary in life. Love was not one of them. It was overpowering, consuming. It changed who you were.

Love was the beginning of life and the end of it. Love was part of being human.

Tom lacking this fundamentally crucial aspect of the human experience may have been the very thing that led him to despise his humanity.

When Tom had met you, it was slightly different. A puzzle piece that didn't quite fit but intrigued him nonetheless.

You were undeniably talented, a mind that had its worth. You had this air of arrogance, and whilst Tom hated unbacked arrogance, you had the means to justify it. You were self-assured, and he found it to be somewhat refreshing compared to the other people he knew (who unashamedly sucked up to him.) You didn’t fall for his tricks immediately, which made him all the more agitated, and intrigued. Rather, you seemed to enjoy being with Tom most when he’d drop the ‘perfect and polite’ facade he had. You valued honesty and bluntness, two things Tom did not do (After all, how would he gain the trust of others if he truthfully told them he planned on using every single one of them?)

However, the more time he spent with you, the more he found that he fed into what you liked. And somehow, to his dismay, he found some sort of sick satisfaction in it. He enjoyed seeing you actively seek out his presence, and as much as it went against what Tom believed, he liked the validation of having people want to be associated with him. It was a testament to how he longed to be known, to be admired. He observed, learned, and dissected your intricacies, seeing you not as an individual but as a canvas upon which he could project his desires.

He soon grew very used to you, and he didn't absolutely loathe you. As the days unfolded into months, and the months unfolded into years, a semblance of tolerance took root. He played the part, masking his true intentions beneath a veneer of charm. Tolerance morphed into a twisted form of acknowledgement — an acknowledgement that you held a role in his future ambitions, his ultimate goal.

After all, that's all he ever did anything for, right? His goals, His desires. His needs.

The evolution was subtle but insidious. What began as a detached fascination transformed into a possessive need. Tom, driven by an insatiable hunger for control, found satisfaction in manipulating the threads of your existence. Obsession seeped into every crevice of his thoughts. Your every action became a challenge to him, something for him to understand, something he wanted to have control over. His infatuation stemmed from a desire to have control, to claim your very being, to possess you like some sort of artefact in his prized possessions.

Whilst you may have been immune to Tom’s charm when you first met, you certainly weren't without your weakness. After all, Tom always got what he wanted, and if he didn't have the means to do so, he'd find it.

He became fluent in his ways of understanding you, observing every little thing you did. He dissected the very core of your being till he was sure there was nothing he wouldn't know. Casual conversations about schoolwork in the depths of the library turned to confessions about your life as the hours passed. Tom preyed on your vulnerability, sowing seeds of doubt into your mind.

He agreed with you when you expressed your frustrations at your friends, he encouraged your rash actions. He told you what you wanted to hear, and made it seem as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

As everything he did, each word he spoke was carefully calculated, a thread sewn in the fabric of your fucked up relationship, binding him inexplicably closer to you without even realising.

He pointed out things, seemingly from a place of concern, making you distance yourself from your friends. He highlighted instances where your friends might have let you down, carefully framing himself as the only steadfast pillar in your life. Tom was everything you could have needed; he understood you, and he made you feel seen.

He was selective about what he let you know. He let you know he had grown up in a children’s home, and that his mother had died. Trust was a two-way thing, and you were smart enough to detect when it wasn’t being reciprocated. He let you see what he wanted to see, for no human was perfect, and he needed you to see he had his imperfections if he wanted you to trust him.

He needed to make it seem as though you made him feel seen too.

Tom had been sitting in your room, working with you on a transfiguration assignment you both had been set. Cross-legged on your bed, he still remembers how you had sat down next to him, visibly frustrated.

Tom, ever attuned to you, asked whether you were ok because that's what someone who cared for you did. He didn't care greatly though, not in a selfless way. Rather, he needed you to know that he was the only person who knew you, the only person you needed.

You opened up about what had happened, explaining how your friends had betrayed your trust, and how they seemed to misunderstand you, leaving you feeling isolated and vulnerable. Tom, feigning empathy with expert precision, listened intently, absorbing every detail like a sponge. You began crying because it all became too much.

You never thought Tom would comfort you. You believed he'd perhaps pat your back, or assure you it was all fine. What you didn't expect, was for Tom to draw you in, to wrap his arms around you, and pull you into his chest. You didn't expect him to soothe you, and rub your back as he uttered words of comfort into your ear, seemingly shielding you from the emotions that had been weighing you down.

You didn't expect to feel safe, to feel protected. If only you knew the only thing you needed protection from, was Tom himself.

You felt special. You knew it was not in Tom's nature to do so. You had no idea how vile of a person he truly was, but you understood he was avoidant of sentiment or affection. For him to have been so tender, made you feel loved.

It was only ever bound to go downhill from there.

It was only natural that you had fallen in love with him. From there it all somewhat became a blur. In between the lines, the illusion of love was beginning to waver. Graduating from Hogwarts, you no longer held those ambitions you once had. Your plans seemed now to be a distant memory, a past life. You had Tom, and that was all that mattered.

Tom had gotten his job at Borgin and Burkes. You moved in with him. You ignored the pleas of concern from those who were near and dear to you, who Tom hadn’t managed to isolate you from.

Tom convinced you that they did not have your best interest in mind, that they didn’t like him because he was a poor orphan, working a salesperson job. He had earlier convinced you he had his insecurities about his past, and he used that to make you believe the people around you were prejudiced, that they didn't care for your happiness but rather their status being affected by who they associated with. No one would want to be acquainted with the girl who loved the charity case.

You believed him. You couldn't fathom why they didn’t like Tom. You shut them out.

It was rather terrifying seeing how quickly Tom could snuff out your fiery flame, and reduce you down to someone who became dependent on him. You rarely left the house, your life revolved around what Tom wanted, and how Tom felt.

He left you teetering on the precipe of unhappiness, fulfilling your needs to the point where you couldn’t complain for fear of seeming ungrateful, unloving.

He would neglect you, coming back from work to lock himself in your bedroom, pouring over books and writings. He wasn’t who he used to be, caring, affectionate, loving.

Shame on you for assuming you could make Tom capable of love.

His neglect pierced your soul, and when you mustered the courage to voice your needs, he snapped at you for bothering him. Tom's transformation into an emotionally distant stranger left you in a state of perpetual uncertainty.

At times, you resolved to leave him, but Tom had a knack for sensing your unrest. As though he could read your mind, he returned with offerings and apologies, painting himself as the troubled victim and casting you as the ungrateful perpetrator. Guilt became the shackle that bound you, and his apologies only deepened the wounds.

Tom, in those fleeting moments of remorse, would momentarily embody the man you had fallen in love with. You cooked dinner together. He’ d play with your hair as you read, and he fucked you as if he truly did love you. Yet, the morning after, the bed would be empty, and the reality of your entangled existence with Tom would once again sink in.

He began leaving for work earlier and coming back later. You began to doubt whether it was because of work, the day he came back reeking of dark magic.

You were undeniably clever, after all, that was what had sparked Tom’s obsession with you in the first place, and so it didn’t take long for you to connect the dots. Tom’s friends back in Hogwarts seemed more like devotees than anything else. This, coupled with him spending countless hours reading through books he wouldn't let you see, and his sudden late hours suggested to you he was dappling in dark things.

You weren't wrong, per se, but Tom was far beyond dappling in dark things. He had become the image of corruption itself.

The cycle persisted, a disheartening repetition of highs and lows that left you questioning your worth and the authenticity of the connection you had with Tom. His intermittent displays of affection, punctuated by periods of neglect and manipulation, became the norm. The more you yearned for stability, the deeper you sank into the quicksand of your toxic relationship.

You couldn't pinpoint exactly where neglect turned into heated words. Arguments turning more and more intense. Slammed doors became broken porcelain, yet the remorseful embraces remained the same.

The outside world, once filled with friends and dreams, now seemed like a distant echo. Tom had successfully eroded the foundations of your past life, isolating you from the support systems that could have provided a lifeline. His poisonous whispers had convinced you that only he truly cared for you, painting the rest of the world as indifferent or antagonistic.

The empty mornings and hollow apologies continued, and you slowly began to realise the love you once believed in had become a warped caricature, and the person you had fallen for had let his obsession manifest into your relationship, seeping through the feeble foundations.

The crisp air of Hogsmeade offered a welcome escape from the suffocating atmosphere of the shared home with Tom. As you strolled through the quaint village, a familiar face caught your eye – Elizabeth, your closest friend from Hogwarts. A twinge of nostalgia mixed with apprehension as you approached her.

"Hey, Elizabeth," you greeted, attempting a smile.

Her response was guarded, her eyes revealing a mixture of concern and wariness. "Hello. Long time no see."

You sensed a tension in the air as you tried to engage in small talk, but Elizabeth's words soon cut through the facade. "Look, What happened? You dropped off the face of the earth, and it's like you vanished after graduation. In our last year, you completely ignored all of us."

A knot tightened in your stomach as you fumbled for an explanation. "I... things have been complicated. I've been busy."

Elizabeth's expression softened, and she sighed. "Busy? More like completely consumed. We all missed you, you know? But you acted like we don't even exist. What happened to the person we used to know?"

You frown, crossing your arms. “Missed me? I only stopped talking to you because you all acted weird around me.” You respond, defensively.

“No, we didn't. You got angry at us when we told you we were worried for you. You rarely went out with us, you were always too busy elsewhere.” She corrected, and you felt a frustration bubble within you.

“No, it didn’t really seem like that. You all isolated me and the only person I had left was Tom. It was only natural that I wouldn't want to go back to being friends with you after that.” You snap.

Elizabeth's eyes widened, sympathy replacing her earlier frustration. "Tom? Are you serious? He's the one who isolated you, not us. We've been worried sick about you. You're not the same person anymore."

Who did she think she was? She knew nothing about the two of you, let alone what your relationship was like. Tom was right, these people had it out for you. They didn't care for you, not at all.

“You don't know what our relationship is like Elizabeth, so I suggest you stop making assumptions.” You hiss, glaring at her.

"We cared, but you pushed us away," Elizabeth explained gently. "You were so wrapped up in whatever was going on with Tom that you stopped caring about anyone else. It's not healthy, and we were genuinely concerned."

Elizabeth reached out to comfort you. "Listen, I know it's tough, but you need to reevaluate your situation. Staying with Tom isn't healthy, and you're not alone. My door is always open if you need somewhere to stay or someone to talk to.” She says, fumbling around in her pockets. She pulls out a receipt and hastily scribbles down an address, thrusting it into your hand. She gives you one last look of pity, and you feel enraged. You immediately apparate back home, you didn't have time for this foolishness.

You apparate back home, the confrontation with Elizabeth leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. The hastily scribbled address clutched in your hand feels like an unwanted invitation, an intrusion into the carefully constructed reality that Tom has woven around you.

As you step into the shared home, the atmosphere is unsettling. Tom is hunched over a dark tome, his eyes flickering up to meet yours as you enter.

"Where have you been?" he questions, the softness of his tone belying the underlying intensity.

You toss your coat aside, frustration boiling beneath the surface. "Out. I needed a break from all this," you retort, the words laced with the anger that has been building up.

A dangerous glint enters Tom's eyes, his composure slipping. "A break? Is that how you see it? Is it a burden to you?"

"Yes, Tom! I don’t know what’s gone wrong? One day you’re fin and the next you’re acting as though i’m a nuisance to your being," you snap, the resentment in your voice cutting through the room.

His posture stiffens, and a quiet threat laces his words. "Oh really?"

Your anger flares, a defiant fire pushing back against his dominance. "Guess who I saw today, hmm?" You seethe, venom lingering in your tone.

A momentary confusion flickers in Tom's eyes. "Who?" he questions, wondering how this could be relevant to the conversation.

"Elizabeth," you declare, watching his reaction closely.

Tom's expression darkens, and a cold tension settles in the room. "What does she have to do with anything?" He retorts, stepping closer to you.

"She told me a few things, Tom. About how I've distanced myself from everyone, how they were worried, and you know what struck me?" you press on, your anger finding a new target.

His eyes narrow, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "What?"

"That I believed it was my friends who had abandoned me, but in reality, it's been you isolating me all along," you accuse, the realization fueling your rage. You jab your finger into his chest as you speak.

Tom's composure wavers, but he quickly recovers. "I've been protecting you. You can't trust them. They're trying to pull you away from me."

"Stop. Stop it, Tom. Have the decency to acknowledge I'm not that fucking stupid. I know what you're trying to do,” You say, voice cracking. You resist the urge to shield your ears, his words burrowing their way into you as he attempts to trivialise your worries, making you out to be the irrational one.

Tom frowns, and the sight of you beginning to doubt him had bile riding in the back of his throat. H reaches out, hands holding onto your shoulders as he urges you to look at him.

“They’re lying to you. They’re trying to pull you away from me again! Can't you see this? Why do you believe them over me?” He says, voice pleading with you in fake desperation, the lengths he was willing to go to to ensure he could continue to possess you were unthinkable.

“Enough. Im fucking done. You’re so fucked up, Tom. You never loved me, did you? You only ever wanted to own me, to control me. Tell me, was it worth it? Was it ever fucking worth it, spending 5 years of your life weaving this tapestry of bullshit just so you could keep me locked up in here?” You snap, grabbing your coat.

Tom's pleading expression transforms into a cold mask, and a sinister calm settles over him. "You think you can just leave? You're mine, and you'll stay. I won't let you go." He utters.

The realization of his true nature, the toxicity of the relationship, fuels your determination. "Watch me,” You hiss.

As you move toward the door, his grip on control slips further, and an unsettling mix of rage and desperation flashes in his eyes. "You'll regret this. You'll come crawling back. You always come back." He says. You take a single look at him before slamming the door and walking off.

One cannot simply dance with the devil, and change him. He always changes you.

Tom Riddle was far beyond the devil.

You wondered if for once in your life God had been on your side when you had that chance encounter with Elizabeth. Despite your harsh words, she had accepted you into her home with open arms. The weight of the past five years settles heavily on your shoulders, and the enormity of what you've lost becomes painfully clear. You were young, so damn young, and you’d been living as a glorified prisoner, trapped by the very thing that was meant to liberate you.

But love was ugly, wasn't it? It made you tolerate the bad, it made you irrational. Love could bare its teeth into your neck, and you'd let it, for love was ugly.

It was ugly, but it was not macabre.

Tom knew where you were. Tom always did. It was already established that Tom always got what he wanted. He wanted you, and he found a way to ensure that.

At first, he did not bother you.

He believed you would come back to him, as you so often did. But when a week had passed and you had not reappeared as you always did, beautiful face flushed red, eyes glossy with tears as you wordlessly stepped in and fell back into normality, he began to worry.

If it came to any relief to you, which it might have, Tom believed he loved you. What you had was a far cry from love, an echo of what it should have been. But in the mind of he who cannot love, this is what he believed it to be. One could only wonder whether everything would have been different if he actually knew what love was. But he didn't, and he never would, so he was left with some sort of fucked up obsession that he believed was love.

Tom felt a gnawing emptiness that only intensified with your departure.

Again, he loved you, if one could call it love. It was a sick, twisted version of affection that demanded ownership. In his distorted reality, your existence became an extension of his own, a possession he couldn't bear to lose. The mere thought of you breaking free ignited a desperate panic within him.

He needed you like a drowning man gasping for air, clinging to the last vestiges of sanity.

Schopenhauer believed that the will, a blind and irrational force, dominated human behaviour. Love, according to Schopenhauer, was an expression of the will's desire.

Tom felt this indescribable gap in his life without you there, as though he simply wasn’t complete without you. The old him would have hated to admit it, but he needed you, and his need for you grew from a sickly infatuation to a desperate yearning. Love, in his distorted reality, meant ownership, and he was losing his grip.

It was a rather bleak evening, and you had a horrible feeling in your stomach as you sat on the sofa of Elizabeth’s living room, where you had been presiding for the past week.

How cruel it was, that you and Tom were so attuned to one another.

You somehow knew it was Tom without needing to see them.

As Tom had resonated with the words of Schopenhauer, you had resonated with the words of Plato. For you, love could not be controlled. Instead, it was a divine madness that took hold of individuals, transcending rational thought and choice.

You had often thought that was a beautiful thing. However, when it was love that was causing your demise, it no longer felt beautiful.

Elizabeth comes down the stairs and raises a brow when she sees you perched on the edge of the sofa, staring blankly off into the distance. She eyes you apprehensively as she opens the door.

That voice. It simultaneously sent dread coursing through you, and butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“Come back now. It's been far too long.” Tom says, his voice oh so tempting.

“Seriously? You think you can get her back with that bullshit?” Elizabeth snaps, standing at the door.

Tom, however, remains fixated on you, as if Elizabeth's words were mere background noise. Ignoring her comments, he continues, his eyes piercing into your conflicted gaze.

"Stop this. Come back. It's where you belong," he urges, the words carrying a persuasive weight that had once held you captive.

Elizabeth's frustration peaked as she turned to face you, pleading in her eyes. "Don't listen to him. He's toxic, and you don't need that in your life. You deserve so much more."

Tom's eyes bore into yours, his tone silky but insistent. "You don't belong in our business, Elizabeth. You’re as meddlesome as you were in school. She knows where she belongs."

You remain silent.

"He's killing you. Can't you see that?" Elizabeth's voice held a mixture of concern and frustration.

But Tom's voice slithered through the air once more, persuasive and relentless. "Come to me.” His words echoed a twisted sense of possessiveness, yet held such allure, spoken tenderly, enough to convince you it would be fine.

You clench your fists, nails digging into your skin. You stand up, letting out a shuddery breath. You walk towards the door.

“Fuck, stop! You don't need to go! Don't act like you have nowhere to go! I've given you my home, I’ve let you stay. Stop going back!” Elizabeth says, frustration laced in her voice.

How easy it is to claim you simply need to just “stop”, and it would all be fine.

It was never that simple. Tom's presence was poison, yet it was also the air you breathed. You had only known Tom for what felt like aeons, and you had shut everyone who questioned you out. All you had was Tom, all you ever would have is Tom.

He was home, a twisted kind that keeps you warm while slowly suffocating the life out of you.

As you walked back into his outstretched arms, a sense of numb acceptance settled over you. The outside world ceased to matter; the only reality was the one with Tom.

It wasn't love as the poets wrote or the philosophers pondered. Yet, in its ugliness, it was the only reality you knew.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around. Like a serpent, his embrace constricts around you, possessive and suffocating. You lean into him, feeling the coldness of his touch seep into your skin. It's oddly warming though, as paradoxical as it seemed.

"Where else would you go, my love?" he whispers, the sweetness of the endearment masking the toxicity beneath.

The serpent and its prey, bound in a perverse waltz of dependence and decay, disappear into the shadows, and the world outside is forgotten once again.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #harry potter #tom riddle #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fic #tom riddle angst

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the-sound-of-her-wings · 1 year

Note

hi! can i please request a kaz brekker x reader fic based off of episode 5 of season 2 (despise your heart)? when kaz panics in the market reader finds him and takes him somehwere safe and gives him his gloves, and in that moment kaz kinda of realizes how he feels about the reader. and then the poison fog the reader hallucinates about kaz and him finally making physical contact and giving her love and she thinks it’s real until someone shoves the antidote in her mouth, once she regains consciousness she rushes over to help kaz and kaz sees her pulling him out of the water and the readers just sitting there holding his face and anything else you wanna add !

if it’s a little complicated i understand, thank you have a great day :))

You were always in plain sight

❀ Word Count: 2,145 ❀ CW: Panic Attack, Discussions of Trauma, Pining, Admissions ❀ A/N: Added a few more scenes than requested. I hope you enjoy!

He’s going to panic, you think to yourself.

In fact, his body was already panicking, even if he wasn’t. Nina is too focused on the target's heart rate to notice, but Kaz’s heart rate has been slowly increasing ever since he took off the gloves.

You watch as the woman they were meeting with gets up, and Kaz goes to follow. Unfortunately, another woman immediately runs into him, spilling tea all over the front of him, and definitely accidentally touching him.

“Give me his gloves,” You whisper to Inej.

She hands them over silently. You put on your own set of gloves, a pair you keep on you in the event something like this happens.

Nina places her hand on top of Kaz’ and you watch the life drain from his face. And then he’s running.

“You follow the target. I’ve got him.” You say.

It doesn’t take you long to catch up to him, but by then he’s already completely disassociated and in complete panic. You take him by the arm, leading him to an empty alley, careful only to touch the clothed parts of his arm. Even with your hands in gloves, you are worried any kind of touch to his exposed hands will send him spiraling further.

He collapses to the ground in an unceremonious heap.

“You were supposed to follow her,” He says.

“Inej has it covered.” You reply, sitting down on the opposite side of the alley, a decent distance from him.

There’s a moment of silence before you add, “Someone had to follow you. You can’t be by yourself when your…” And you don’t know how to finish the sentence. Traumatized? Panicking? Having a PTSD flashback to an event you refuse to discuss with anyone? “...like this.”

It pains you to see him so deep in his own pain, so desperate to keep other people out of it. To keep you out of it. You place his gloves close to him, but far enough away that it doesn’t look like you’re trying to touch him.

He notices your gloves, “When did you-?”

“A while ago. There just in case-” And you cut yourself off with a sigh. In case this happened. “Do you want me to stay?”

Yes? Kaz thinks, but he’s still panicking too much to say anything. In fact, the thought sends him into even more of a panic, because he’s not ever had a thought like that before.

“I’ll be on the other side of the alley. We’ll regroup once you’ve had a chance to calm down.” You say, leaving him to decompress.

XXXXX

“Nina wants an explanation,” Inej tells you as you watch over Kaz from a distance. He’s finally come out of the worst of it and is now trying to act like nothing happened. It’s a behavior that you simply have never gotten used to, despite years by his side.

“Then tell her the truth.” You say.

“Which is?” Inej asks. She sometimes thinks you know more than she does, but that’s not really true. You both know exactly the same thing about Kaz- which is that Pekka Rollins killed his brother and that he absolutely cannot stand another person’s touch.

“He had a panic attack.” You reply. “She’s not going to tell the others, is she?”

“No. But I think Jesper should know. He hates it when we leave him out of the loop.” Inej states.

“I think I’m going to try to talk to him this time. See what else is going on.” You say, watching as Kaz sits down, clearly deep in thought.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I didn’t think you’d be happy about that idea.” You say, cleaning the dirt from under your nails.

“He will open up when he’s ready.” Inej tries to reassure you.

“We both know he’d never be that vulnerable.”

“Then why ask?” She asks.

So I know how to fix it.

“Let’s just get this over with, shall we? The world isn’t going to save itself.” You state, heading towards Kaz and the rest of the group to figure out the plan. Maybe you’ll ask him once all of this over.

XXXXX

“We should talk about what happened in the market.” You say, sitting on his desk.

“Must we?” Kaz replies, lowering the newspaper he had been reading to meet your gaze.

“Yes.”

He set the paper aside, making his way over to you. He towers over you in a way he’s never done before, closer than he’s ever been. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know what happened.”

“You saw what happened,” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“I want to know why, Kaz.” You respond.

“Why?” He retorts. Is he flirting with you or just trying to get under your skin?

“I want to fix it. Or prevent it or- I don’t know! I just. I never want to see you like that again. I don’t want to see you suffer.”

“It won’t happen again,” He reassures you, a gloved hand coming up to caress your face. You block it with the back of your forearm.

“Won’t it? Jesper told me what happened when you got thrown in that cart together. I watched as you tried not to panic while helping Inej clean her wounds. Do you think I can’t sense your heart rate when people get too close to you? That I don’t know exactly how your body reacts? Who hurt you so badly that you can’t even be physically near another person without wanting to vomit?” You ramble, letting out all of the questions and feelings you’ve been holding inside for all of these years.

“Pekka Rollins” He replies, the answer he gave you before. It’s always been the answer, and in some ways, it really is the truth.

“Kaz… I just want you to let me in. You carry so much inside of you that you let nobody see. But I want to see it… I want to understand.” You say, and you want to reach out and hug him but you know he can’t receive that kind of affection.

But then he does something you aren’t excepting. Slowly, he begins to remove his gloves. He sets them on the fireplace, one by one. One of his ungloved hands traces its way up the side of your neck and rests on your cheek. You gasp at his touch.

And then you are staring into each other’s eyes, into each other’s souls. Like you’ve always seen each other- like you’ve always known. Kaz plays his cards close to his chest, but you don’t. Nina has teased you for it relentlessly.

When he kisses you, you can’t believe this is happening. It’s perfect. These are things he would only do in dreams. These are things he would only say in dreams. These are…

“This is a dream,” Kaz tells you, or rather, the Kaz of your imagination tells you as he ends the kiss.

“I know” You reply, opening your eyes.

You see Inej hunched over you and taste something disgusting in your mouth.

“We were poisoned. Go to the door- Wylan will give you another antidote.” She says before leaving to go wake up Jesper.

You crawl your way to the door, still feeling the lingering effects of the poison. “Wylan. Antidote?” You croak.

Once you are given the butterfly, you make your way over to Kaz, the only person still under the effects of the poison.

XXXXX

Kaz is confused. He wakes up, back on that mountain of bodies in the river, but his brother is alive.

“Jordie?” He asks, confused.

His brother stares at him, full of rage. Without a word, he begins to drown him. Just when Kaz has almost lost all of his oxygen, his brother pulls him back out from under the water.

“Who are you without your vengeance?” Jordie yells.

“Kaz. Wake up” You say, one gloved hand cupping the side of his face, the other moving his jaw to try to force him to chew. He can’t hear you.

“What is the worth of life if you have no one left to fight for?” Jordie asks, before plunging him under the water again.

“Kaz” You repeat, and he hears you this time. “You’re going to be alright”

You come into focus in a water gaze, the remnants of the poison still giving a dreamlike quality. It takes him a few moments to realize that it’s no longer a hallucination and that both of your hands are on his face. Gloved hands.

You pull your hands away from his face as soon as you see him come out of it.

“Sorry,” You say.

You don’t have to apologize, he thinks.

XXXXX

“Kaz, a word?” You say, wanting to get him alone. You’ve obtained the Neshyenyer and are getting ready to head to East Ravka.

He nods in acknowledgment while the others in the room make no effort to leave.

“Alone.” You add, so the others get the picture.

Everyone exchanges suspicious glances with one another except Kaz, who is only looking at you. Nina winks as she passes you on her way out of the room. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

You position yourself by the door, a good five feet away from him, in order to respect his boundaries. The boundaries that you’ve consistently had to cross recently to protect him.

“What do you need?” He asks.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

Of course he isn’t, but you want him to admit that. You suspect he’ll respond with something defensive, something clever, something like “Why wouldn’t I be okay?” or “Why does it matter?” or “We have a job to do”. For it to be like the dream.

“Are you?” He responds.

“No. And I’m getting a little tired of pretending I am.” You answer honestly. The difference between you, and all the other crows, and hell, everyone else that you interact with, is that you aren’t emotionally repressed. You don’t hide it under a sense of revenge, don’t mask it with a face of no emotion, and don’t keep your true thoughts and feelings hidden under a veil of humor. He told you it was a weakness, once.

“You’re still wearing the gloves.” He comments.

You glance down at your gloved hands and then back at him. “So I am.”

“You don’t have to do that for me.” You don’t have to do anything for me, He thinks.

“I know.” You say, “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

There is a long silence as you look at each other, not really sure what to say.

“I wanted you to stay,” He states, looking away from you. Almost as if he’s ashamed that he’s allowing himself to be this vulnerable. “When you asked me in the alley… I wanted you to stay.”

You feel your breath catch in your throat at the admission. Maybe the poison-induced hallucination wasn’t too farfetched after all.

“I’ll stay.” You take a step towards him, still unsure of his boundaries. Still unsure how close or far you can get without causing him pain.

“Will you tell me why?” You ask. I can’t help you through something when I don’t know why it causes you pain.

“I don’t know if I can,” It’s the first genuine answer you’ve gotten out of him in a long time.

“When we were poisoned I- you were in my hallucination,” You admit, taking a few more steps closer to him.

“What happened in your hallucination?” He asks. Throughout this, he’s made no effort to move from his seat at the table, but his heartbeat has become steadily faster, stronger.

“I was angry at you- but you seemed to understand why. And you took your gloves off and touched me and- that’s how I knew it wasn’t real.” You reply. “What did you hallucinate?” You add, not wanting him to ruminate on your confession too long.

“My brother was drowning me,” He states.

“I’m sorry,” You say, reflexively.

“He asked me, ‘What is the worth of life if you have no one left to fight for?’ and then I saw you,” You’ve never seen him sheepish before- vulnerability doesn’t exactly suit him.

“Oh,” You breathe. “So what now?”

“We go to East Ravka.”

“Right,” You say, trying not to let the disappointment show in your voice. “Time to save the world. Again.”

“We’re not saving it. We’re just getting paid.” Kaz responds.

You steel yourself, trying not to beat yourself up for thinking you were finally getting somewhere. That this would be anything more than words.

"After. We will discuss us after." He adds, quelling your doubt. "We still have a job to do."

You nod.

"I'm here if you need me." You say, turning to leave.

"I know," Kaz replies.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x gn!reader #aspiring thanatologist writes #title is pulled from the lyrics of only you lonely you by andrew lloyd webber

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insxghtt · 1 year

Text

the rage of a mother — aemond targaryen x reader

Aemond has to suffer the consequences of his actions, but he didn’t think that you would be the one to pay the price.

warnings: +18, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of blood, violence and grieve.

this was based on this request and it took me a long time to finish it bc i have a hangover. again, english is not my first language so if you find any mistakes i apologize. thats it, hope you like it :)

As soon as Aemond walked in the room, all wet because of the rain and with a scared look on his face, you knew something was wrong. He didn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on the floor. He also didn’t say anything, which only made you more nervous.

“How was it?”, you asked, but he kept quiet. “What happened?”

He walked to the table that was close to the fireplace and removed his eyepatch. His movements were slow, like he was lost inside his own thoughts. The flashbacks kept coming. Lucerys screaming, the sound of Vhagar’s bite, the blood.

“Lucerys Velaryon was there”, he finally said while staring at the fire.

“What have you done, Aemond?”

You loved your husband more than anything, but you also knew that there was a dark place inside of him, a result of the eye he lost. You always told him that revenge was like poison and you wished he had listened.

“It was Vhagar, not me”, he tried to argue. “I ordered her to stop.”

“Is he dead?”

Once again, he kept quiet, but you knew what it meant. Lucerys Velaryon was dead. You felt the weight of a mountain on your shoulders and had to lean on the desk behind you to keep from falling on the floor.

“Did you chase him?”

Aemond didn’t know what to say. “Yes, but I didn’t mean to...”

“What did you think that would happen?”, now you were angry. You were a mother and knew what Rhaenyra was capable of. And, honestly, you could not even judge her, because that’s what you would do. “Answer me, Aemond! What did you think it would happen?”

“I told Vhagar to stop!”, he turned to you also angry.

“You though you could control a dragon like her? She is the biggest dragon alive, Aemond, she has been to war!”, you walked to him with tears on your eyes.

“Do not give me that look, he should have seen it coming.”

“He was a child!”

“So was I, and yet they did not care about that when they took my eye.”

You had no words. The person standing in front of you was a complete stranger. He was filled with anger and it didn’t matter anymore if he told Vhagar to stop or no because he was simply not sorry.

“Who are you?”, you whispered.

Those words seemed to bring him back to reality. You were scared. Not of him, but of what his actions could cause. And he felt terrible because of that. It was his responsibility to take care of you and your child.

And to think about your child, his heart almost stopped.

“I will not let anything happen to you. Did you hear me?”, he said, holding your face on his hands to make sure you were listening. “Nothing will ever happen to you or to our daughter.”

“You cannot escape the rage of a grieving mother, Aemond.”

He ignored your words, trying to tell himself that there was a way out. His hands left your cheeks only to grab your waist and pull you closer. You felt him hiding his face on your neck and returned the hug.

The days had passed and Rhaenyra’s silence only made you feel worse. Since her son’s death you kept your baby as close as possible, not leaving her side for even a second. Aemond was busy most of the time, trying to plan something with the help of his brother, the new King, and his mother.

The bed you two shared was now empty all the time, but you didn’t care. After all, you had been spending all nights sitting on the armchair next to the crib. To watch you baby sleeping like an angel was the only thing that could make you feel better.

It was a rainy night and your baby hated the sound of the thunders. She had been crying for a while and nothing seemed to calm her down.

You held her in your arms, singing an old song that your mother used to sing when you heard a noise outside the door. The baby stopped crying and you thanked the gods. The sound of steps got closer and you heard a voice that was not familiar. Immediately, you hid yourself under the bed.

They opened the door trying their best to be silent and you held your breath, afraid to make any noise. Carefully, you took the dagger that you always kept hidden under your dress, ready to fight anyone who tried to hurt you or the baby.

But your daughter was not happy to feel one of your hands leaving her body and let out a cry. You closed your eyes knowing that there was nothing you could do. It was impossible that they didn't hear it.

And it all happened so fast. A man held your ankles and pulled you out of your hiding place while another one took the baby. He put you on your knees and stood behind you. You screamed seeing the way the other man held your daughter, but stopped as soon as you felt a blade touching the skin on your neck.

“We are here just for the child, princess. Do not make this more difficult for you”, the man behind you whispered in your ear and you felt his hands on your hair.

Tears were steaming down your face, but the look on your face was filled with hate. Your little girl was right there on that man’s hands and there was nothing you could do.

“She is a pretty girl”, the one holding her said with a smile. “Has her father’s hair”

“You do not want to do this”, you said. The dagger was still hidden on your sleeve and none of them seemed to notice it.

The man behind you laughed. “What are you going to do? Cry? I apologize, princess, but the Queen wants a heart. And I hope you can understand our position. Business is business.”

The other man laid the baby down on the bed as he reached for his dagger and on that brief moment, you knew it was your only chance to act. And you were so fast that even you couldn’t believe it.

With your left hand, you grabbed the wrist of the man behind you and with the right one you stabbed his leg with your dagger. He yelled in pain and tried to pull your hair, but you were faster and turned around, stabbing his other leg.

You stood up and the man in front of you ran your way. You were able to dodge, but still felt his dagger cutting your shoulder. Ignoring the pain, you stuck your dagger on his neck and blood was spilled all over your face.

But it was not over. The other one was still standing. He didn’t run to attack you, but went for your baby instead. Before he could reach her, you threw the dagger his way. It hit his back and he fell on the ground. You walked to him and grabbed your weapon.

“You are right”, you turned his body to look at his face one last time. “Business is business”, you whispered before you cut his throat.

Your daughter was still crying but you did not take your eyes off the man in front of you until he was finally dead from choking on his own blood.

Once again, you heard the door open and turned away, ready to attack, until you saw your husband.

“What happened?”, he asked looking at the blood.

He saw the two men and his heart was suddenly filled with rage and guilt. He promised you that nothing would happen, but where was he when they needed him the most?

“Guards! I need guards!”, he yelled.

He ran to you and held you tight in his arms. Finally, you relaxed your body and allowed yourself to cry. And you only left his arms to hold your little girl.

“I am so sorry”, Aemond whispered while hugging you two. He left a kiss on your shoulder and one on your neck and you could feel his tears falling on your skin. “I should have been here.”

His words seemed so distant to you. All you could do was stare at your daughter. Your bloody hands were staining her clothes, but she was no longer crying.

The guards came in and took you to the Meister while the maids watched your child. Aemond stood next to you as the healer sewed the wound on your shoulder. The pain was bad, but the cut was not that deep. Actually, it seemed like Aemond was feeling more pain than you. Evey time the needle cut through your flesh he squeezed your hand.

When it was done, he helped you get undressed so you could finally take a bath. He didn’t say much, only asking you if the water was warm enough. You got in the bathtub and he sat on a chair next to you.

Aemond was a quiet man, so you got used to interpreting his feelings just by looking at his body. The way he walked, the look on his face, the way he cracked his knuckles. Just by that, you knew that he was feeling guilty.

“You do not have to feel that”, you broke the silence. “You do not have to feel guilty.”

“It was my fault.”

“Maybe”, you held his hand. “Or maybe Rhaenyra was just waiting for an excuse to start this war and take what she believes is hers.”

He nodded, but it didn’t change his feelings. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“I do”, you said and he looked surprised. “You would be miserable.”

A laugh escaped through his lips and you smiled. You missed that sound.

He kissed your hand and got closer to you, resting his forehead against yours.

“I will never leave you alone again”, he whispered. “I promise.”

part II

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