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melzula · 20 days

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All I Ever Wanted

pairing: zuko x reader

notes: this was originally requested by an anon but i also took inspiration from mitski’s song “your best american girl” while writing this. give it a listen during your read !

summary: as a peasant and servant girl for the palace, you should have known better than to fall for the Prince

The sun is warm against your skin and the grass is soft beneath you as you land on your back in a fit of giggles. Azula is unamused by your antics, but Zuko finds himself laughing right along with you. It’s a peaceful summer’s day in the palace gardens, and you spend it as you would any other day by playing with your friends.

“I caught you,” you tell him with a breathless laugh after turning your head to face him.

“No way, I was just going easy on you,” he argues with playful grin, his nose nearly brushing against your own due to your close proximity on the grass. Your heart beats fast in your rib cage as you try to ignore the rising heat on your face and play it off as a result of your exhaustion and not your nerves from lying with the Prince. You haven’t realized it yourself, but you have a crush on Zuko, a painfully obvious one that he hasn’t seemed to notice yet. What you also don’t realize is that he reciprocates the feeling, and he shares the thrill that comes with being your playmate.

“Are you two done yet?” Azula finally interrupts with a roll of her eyes as she offers you her hand and helps you up from the ground. “It’s my turn to hide this time.”

“I don’t think we can play anymore,” Zuko notes with a frown as his mother makes her way towards your group. You quickly bow in respect to the Fire Lady, but she waves you off with a smile.

“I’m sorry, y/n, but Zuko and Azula must attend their fire bending lessons now. I’m afraid playtime is over for today,” she informs you apologetically.

“Yes, Fire Lady Ursa,” you reply politely before turning to give both of your friends departing hugs. “Bye Zuko, bye Azula!”

“It’s too bad you’re not a fire bender,” Azula remarks after halfheartedly returning your embrace. “Maybe dad would let us play with you more if you were.”

Her words make your body hot with embarrassment and shame, and though you don’t voice your discomfort Ursa is instantly able to pick up on it. With a scolding glare, the Fire Lady quickly urges her daughter to apologize.

“Azula, that is not a nice thing to say to a friend.”

“But it’s true,” the girl mutters under her breath only to have her mother drag her away before she can get the chance to say anything else. Zuko hesitates then, giving you an apologetic look and promising to play with you tomorrow before rushing after Ursa and Azula.

You’ve never really cared about being a non-bender, but there’s something about Azula’s words that has you questioning your worth. As the daughter of a royal family servant with no title or money to her name, you knew you were lucky to be able to grow up in the palace and play with the Fire Lord’s children. However, you never once realized that you weren’t their equal. They were royalty, a Prince and a Princess destined to become powerful benders and ruthless leaders of the Fire Nation, and you were simply a girl who would one day grow up to live a life of servitude. You had no real future or purpose ahead of you, not like they did, and yet you were the only one unaware of your unfortunate fate.

Perhaps it’s because they never treated you in such a way, and your mother did her best to shield you from your true heritage. For now you could grow up blissfully unaware of the fact that your friends would one day outgrow you.

“Mom?” Zuko asks once they’re safe inside the palace. “Do you like y/n?”

“She’s a sweet girl,” Ursa notes with a faint smile, “and she makes you both happy. So yes, I like her.”

“Then why doesn’t Dad?”

The Fire Lady’s smile fades into a remorseful frown, and she simply ushers her son forward with a shake of her head. “Let’s not worry about that now. You’re going to be late for your lesson.”

Zuko isn’t satisfied with her answer, but he isn’t give a chance to discuss it further with her. For now, he remains content with the fact that he likes you, and his mother likes you.

That is enough for him.

~~~

The day is calm as you carefully hang the clothes to dry and enjoy the warmth of the sun basking on your skin. It’s rare that you get tasked with the outdoor chores, so you savor the opportunity for as long as you can. Doing the royal family’s laundry certainly beats scrubbing the floors of the palace, and you are grateful the spirits have taken mercy upon you today.

You’re freshly fifteen and the summer is just beginning. You’ve grown into a well-mannered young woman, and you’re old enough now to be able to take on some of the work that once fell to your mother. One day you will take her place and continue to serve the royal family until you’re no longer physically able. You’ll never get to leave, but you consider yourself grateful to live on the palace grounds. You will forever have a roof over your head, food on the table, and, most importantly, your friends.

You take great care to pin Azula’s dresses down without getting any creases or wrinkles in the fabric, and you’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice the figure carefully creeping up behind you. You’re too busy reciting the words to an old Fire Nation folk song your mother had taught you to pay any mind to your surroundings, and it gives Zuko the perfect opportunity to catch you by surprise.

“Y/n!” He exclaims with a grin as his hands land firmly upon your shoulders. You nearly jump out of your skin at the act, and your reaction has the Fire Prince laughing so hard his cheeks begin to hurt.

“Zuko!” You scold with an irritated scowl as you chuck a handful of clothespins at him in retaliation. “You need to stop doing that!”

“I’m sorry, you just make it so easy,” he teases with a light nudge to your side before taking it upon himself to pick up the pins you’d discarded.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready to leave for Ember Island?” You ask him with a quizzical look as you resume your previous work of hanging the clothes.

“That’s actually what I was coming to talk to you about,” he admits with a sheepish smile. “I want you to come with us.”

“What? You’re not serious, are you?” You retort apprehensively, halting your movements to gauge his reaction for any hint of insincerity or humor.

“I am serious. You deserve to have fun once in a while too,” he notes with a careful smile. You’re too oblivious to notice the look of admiration on his face and definitely too concerned with finding a way to let him down gently to realize he’s inviting you because he likes you. Despite your own feelings for the Prince you’ve developed over the years, you’re much too self-depreciating to ever believe Zuko could possibly feel the same. If only you knew.

“I can’t just up and leave! There’s work to be done, a-and my mother would be so upset with me if I abandoned my chores and-“

“Azula will tell our father she wishes to bring you along as a personal servant so you can come with us, and someone else will be tasked with taking on your work while you’re away. There’s no way your mom could be upset with you for serving the Princess, could she?”

“Azula would really do that for me?” You question meekly, a hopeful glint in your eyes as you hang on to his every word. You’re trying your best not to get your hopes up, but you wish for nothing more than to leave the capital city to see the ocean for the first time and feel the sand beneath your feet. As the daughter of a servant and now a servant yourself, you know you’d never get a chance like this if not for the fact that the siblings had grown fond of you over your years of friendship together. You’re lucky, because you know without them you’d truly be nothing more than a floor scrubbing peasant.

“Of course she would, she wants you there just as much as I do,” Zuko assures you. Gently taking your hands in his own, he gives them a comforting squeeze and looks into your eyes with a loving smile. “We leave tomorrow morning. Bring enough clothes to last you three days and a bathing suit.”

“I don’t own one,” you admit with an embarrassed frown, but your friend doesn’t display any sign of judgement in the slightest towards your shortcomings.

“Then I’ll take you shopping myself when we get there.”

Your heart melts at his words, your gaze falling to the ground bashfully as you try not to dwell on the fact that he’s still holding your hands. You’re in love with the Prince, and the Prince is in love with you, and everyone but you has figured out just how much you mean to each other.

Even Fire Lord Ozai, who odiously watches the scene unfold before him from the top of the palace balcony.

~~~

The shores of Ember Island are beautiful.

The waves almost seem to sparkle underneath the moonlight as they crash peacefully against the shore, and down below the lively chatter of your friends carries through the air and fills your heart with contentment. You’ve had the most perfect time here at the beach, and it pains you to know that tonight will be your last night of freedom before you must return home and resume your life as a servant girl.

The wooden doors behind you carefully slide open and closed, and soon a familiar warmth joins you out on the balcony. For a while you say nothing, simply enjoying the closeness of him as you watch Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai practice tricks in the sand below. You don’t know how to thank the Prince for all he’s done for you, for always looking out for you since you were children, for never once treating you as less than for your heritage. You don’t know how to tell him that you love him with your entire being.

So he does it for you.

“I got you something,” Zuko says after a moment’s silence, waiting for you to turn your gaze to him so he may pull out a small clam from beneath his robes. You raise a curious eyebrow at his offering as he gestures for you to take it.

“A clam shell?” You note inquisitively as you turn the gift around in your palms, carefully feeling out its grooves and intricate ridges.

“Open it,” he directs you quietly, anxiously watching your movements with bated breath.

You smile curiously at your friend before delicately pulling the top half of the shell open to reveal the contents inside. Your eyes widen in surprise at the gift that greets you, and you immediately look up to Zuko to ensure this isn’t some kind of joke.

Inside the clam sits a beautiful gold necklace with a dainty sun pendant resting in the center that shimmers under the light of the moon. It’s beautiful, and it’s certainly worth more than your own life, which is why you immediately try to hand it back to him.

“I-I can’t accept this!” You hastily insist with a quick shake of your head as you struggle to return the clam to him. “It’s too nice!”

“You can accept this,” Zuko reassures you as he carefully pushes the gift back towards you. When his efforts fail due to your persistent attempts to give back the shell, he lets out a sigh and carefully removes the necklace from the clam. “Y/n, I want you to have it.”

“But why?” You demand apprehensively, almost flinching away when he moves towards you with the necklace. You’re completely overwhelmed by his gift and unsure of what it means or why you’d ever be deserving of such a thing. You don’t want to take advantage of his kindness or his status, and you feel like he’s done more than enough for you by bringing you along on this trip, so it just feels wrong of you to take it.

“Because you deserve nice things too,” Zuko explains, and after giving you a pointed look you finally allow him to carefully put the necklace on you. The sun rests daintily along your neck, and he thinks it suits you perfectly. “I brought you on this trip because I wanted you to have fun for once, but also because… well, because I love you, and I thought a romantic setting might make it easier to tell you that.”

“You love me?”

“You haven’t noticed?” He retorts with a meek smile. “I’m not the best at words, but I know that I’ve loved you since we were children feeding turtle ducks in the pond and playing tag in the gardens. You have the purest heart of anyone I know, the sweetest smile, you are everything to me. I hope that by accepting this gift, you’ll be accepting me as someone worthy enough to be your boyfriend.”

“Oh, Zuko…” you murmur softly, eyes full of tears as you throw yourself into his arms and hug him as tight as humanly possible. You’re still shocked by the fact that the boy you love will all your heart feels the same, but you try to remind yourself not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Zuko is right when he says that you deserve to enjoy what life has to offer just as much as he does, so maybe it’s time you finally start allowing yourself the chance to finally let your guard down. You can be more than just a servant girl from the palace.

You can be happy.

~~~

You sit quietly before the vanity mirror as your mother tediously brushes through your hair to ensure not a single strand is out of place. The wrinkles in her skin crease with her nerves as she carefully begins to pin your hair back into the perfect top knot. Immediately after your return home from Ember Island, you were informed that the Fire Lord wished to speak with you. You were expected to drop your chores for the day and make yourself decent before presenting yourself to him. His request to see you surprised you considering the fact you previously believed he didn’t even know of your existence, but it made you nervous all the same. If anything were to go wrong during your meeting, you’d be jeopardizing both yours and your mother’s jobs.

“Make sure to sit up straight and no slouching,” she reminds you quietly while stopping to admire her work. “Hold your tongue until he allows you to speak and thank him for all he has done for us. It is a great honor to speak to Fire Lord Ozai, so you must treat it as such.”

“Mother, what could the Fire Lord possibly want to talk to me about?”

She doesn’t meet your eyes at first, looking away as if contemplating carefully what her next words should be. With a sigh, she sets the brush down and looks at you through the reflection. “Word has spread quickly about you and Prince Zuko, and I think he knows.”

You swallow nervously at her admission, absently brushing your fingers against the sun that hangs around your neck. You never once considered what Zuko’s father would think about his son’s choice of a partner; Ursa had always treated you as one of her own, and Azula considered you to be a good friend, but what would Ozai say of the peasant girl who had stolen his son’s heart?

You don’t have much time to mull over it further as a guard arrives to escort you from your quarters to the throne room. All eyes seem to follow you as you walk through the palace, the gold and red hues overwhelming your senses as you do your best to remain calm. You have no idea what awaits you at the end of the hallway, but there’s no escape now as the grand doors open and you’re pushed inside.

Ozai sits on the throne with a wall of flames roaring behind him. His features are stoic but his gaze is menacing as his eyes watch your meager form approach. You immediately bow in respect to the man once you reach him and kneel before his seated figure. Just as your mother instructed, you say nothing until you are spoken to.

“So you’re the girl my son has chosen to be his partner?” He drawls with a raised brow, obviously not impressed by the person before him.

“Yes, sir. It is an honor to present myself to you, my Lord,” you profess as earnestly as possible while adding another bow for good measure. You need his approval not only to continue dating Zuko, but also to ensure you and your mother are both able to continue living behind the palace walls. Even if you are there as servants tucked away in the peasant quarters, it certainly is a better place to be than out in the streets.

“I know who you are, child,” Ozai scoffs callously as he peers down at you from his place on the throne. “You are the peasant girl who managed to worm her way into the lives of my children. You are a lowly servant with nothing to your name and nothing special about you, and yet you have managed to corrupt my only son."

“Fire Lord Ozai, I-I apologize if my actions have upset you,” you quickly try to interject, but he holds a hand up and signals you to halt your pathetic rambling. Ozai does not have the time nor care to hear your excuses or explanations. That’s not what this meeting is for.

“Do you know how poorly it would reflect on me to have Zuko galavanting around the palace with a servant? Do you know how poorly it reflects on him to be seen with you? It’s a disgrace, and it is something I will not tolerate.”

“I know,” you utter quietly, trying to make yourself appear as small as you feel on the inside. Despite what Zuko has told you, you know that his father is right. You are nothing compared to him. He is the sun, the Prince, the heir to the throne. His future ahead is bright, and there is much for him to accomplish. You have no future, no plans for your life, nothing as grand or important as him and Azula. You are not the sun or the moon or even the stars that hang in his sky, you are insignificant, and you will never be worthy enough to be his.

“A future Fire Lord cannot have a maid as a wife. You must break his heart so that he no longer wants anything to do with you, so that he can move on and find a girl more worthy of becoming the future Fire Lady. You must make it appear to be your own doing and not mine, otherwise it won’t work. Have I made myself clear, child?”

“Yes, Fire Lord Ozai,” you whisper softly, a single tear sliding down your cheek as you bow to the cruel man before you. “I understand.”

~~~

The clouds that hang overhead are gray as Zuko makes his way towards the servants’ quarters. It is unheard of for any royal to ever set foot on these grounds, and so all eyes watch the Prince curiously as he approaches your humble home and knocks gently on the door. Movement sounds from the other side, and after a moment he is met with the startled face of your mother. It’s clear that she hadn’t been expecting him, and he takes her by surprise when he bows to the woman in respect.

“I apologize for coming unannounced, but I was hoping I could speak to y/n,” he utters with a look of defeat on his face. His sullen features make his lack of sleep obvious, and his eyes are full of desperation. You’ve been avoiding him for weeks and he has no clue as to why, but he hopes to figure it out soon before he starts to spiral any further.

“She’s…” your mother begins to say, glancing unsurely behind her before looking back to him, “she’s not feeling well. You can come back another time.”

“But-“

“Please, Prince Zuko, we can’t risk you catching whatever it is she’s come down with. You must go.”

She gives him no time to argue before slamming the door in his face. Zuko is stunned, but his shock quickly turns to anger as he lets out a frustrated breath of flames from his mouth before stalking off to cool himself down.

His footsteps fade into the distance as he departs, and you can only sit by the window of your room and watch him walk away. There’s a tightness in your chest that makes you feel as if you can’t breathe, and once he finally disappears over the horizon you break down into an inconsolable mess.

You love Zuko with all of your heart, so it kills you to act as if he means nothing to you. You’re trying to do what Ozai has demanded of you, but it’s agonizing and difficult. You’re too much of a coward to face him and break it off for good, so you’ve resorted to avidly avoiding the Prince at all costs. You hope that by pushing him away he’ll take it upon himself to end the relationship; it would be much less painful that way, but he’s too stubborn for his own good, and he’s persisted despite your best efforts.

The days seem to blend together as you lock yourself in your room while your mother continues to turn Zuko away. You haven’t done any of your chores or worked in days, but Ozai has not faulted you for your incompletion of tasks. Breaking Zuko’s heart is your task, and so long as you keep your word he couldn’t care less what you did with yourself.

After another week has passed, suffocation finally catches up to you and you’re forced to leave your room in order to get some fresh air. You sneak out at nightfall when the palace is quiet and your mother is sleeping so that no one can detect your presence. You retreat to the well out in the back and stare contemplatively into the water below. Clutching the sun that hangs from the gold chain around your neck, you admire the moon’s reflection in the ripples and wish you could be anywhere else but here in the Fire Nation.

“I thought I’d find you here,” a voice utters quietly, causing you to jump in alarm at the intrusion. You turn to meet the solemn gaze of the Prince, and as your back hits the cool stones of the well you find that you are cornered. You can’t avoid him now, and it’s a fact both of you are aware of.

“Zuko, I… I was just leaving,” you stammer hurriedly as you try to push your way past him, but he catches you by the arm before you can get away.

“No, not until you talk to me!” He demands, his eyes full of desperation and despair. “You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, yet you keep avoiding me. Why? Was it something I did?”

“No, Zuko, you didn’t do anything,” you insist despite refusing to meet his gaze. You’re terrified that someone will see you both together and alert Ozai, and you wish he would just release you so you could go back to hiding away in your room.

“Then why won’t you even look at me?”

Slowly, you peek your head up to meet his exasperated face. It seems he’s not going to give up without a fight, so you’re going to have to resort to doing what you’ve been trying to avoid this entire time.

“I don’t love you.”

“W-What?” Zuko stammers in quiet surprise, his hold on your arm loosening slightly. He doesn’t believe what he’s hearing from you, and his mind is scrambling to process your words.

“I don’t love you. I want nothing to do with you,” you repeat firmly, your eyes hardening as you stare up at him and yank yourself free from his grasp.

“Y/n, you don’t mean that-“

“I do mean it! I feel nothing for you, Zuko. I never have. I just felt like I couldn’t say no to you because you’re the Prince, so I had no choice but to say yes to being your girlfriend.”

Hurt flashes across his features and you’re dying inside at having to be so cruel to him. The heart of your childhood best friend is in your hands and you crush it with every word despite how much it pains you. But it’s better for both of you this way, it must be. Ozai will never let you be happy together, but apart he still has a chance to capture the promised future ahead of him. You’re doing him a favor, and you hope one day he’ll be able to see it that way too.

“I don’t understand,” he murmurs weakly, tears beginning to well in his eyes. Then, with frustration clear in his tone, “This doesn’t make any sense!”

“Did you honestly think we could actually be together?” You retort in disbelief. “Azula always said you were a fool, but I didn’t think you were this naive. A servant and a Prince don’t belong together, and you’re the only one who can’t seem to get that!”

“Alright, fine,” Zuko mutters indignantly. His sadness has quickly morphed into anger, and you hate the way it makes you feel. “Can I just ask you one thing?”

You say nothing in response, and he takes your silence as a sign to continue.

“If you don’t love me, then why are you still wearing the necklace?”

Your eyes widen slightly as your hand immediately flies to your neck to clutch the pendant, and your heart slowly begins to sink to your stomach as you realize you’ve been caught in your lie. It’s your turn now to be at a loss for words, unsure what to say as you simply stare up at him with your mouth slight agape.

“You don’t mean what you’re saying,” Zuko says firmly as he moves closer to you. “Someone else is speaking for you, aren’t they?”

“I…”

“What’s going on, y/n?” He presses gently, carefully resting a hand upon your cheek. “Why are you acting this way?”

“I can’t tell you,” you argue weakly, your own eyes becoming full of tears as you allow yourself to melt into his touch. You’ve missed the feeling of his warmth and the comfort of his closeness, and despite your mind screaming at you to remove yourself from him your heart keeps you planted in place.

“That’s nonsense, of course you can. You’ve always been able to tell me anything, so why can’t you now?”

“Can’t you just believe me when I tell you it’s for your own good?” You plead emphatically despite the wavering of your voice.

“How can this possibly be for my own good?!” He retorts in exasperation. “I’ve been miserable without you. Life feels empty when you aren’t around, and I don’t know how to deal with the fact that the girl I’ve loved all my life can’t seem to stand me.”

“It’s not like that!” You cry defensively as the tears finally begin to fall.

“Then what is it?!” Zuko demands, and you can’t seem to take any more of this torture. The lies are killing you, and you can’t help but to finally crack under pressure.

“I’m not good enough for you!” You finally exclaim as you pull yourself away from his touch. You try to choke back your sobs but the ache in your chest makes the task difficult, and you can do nothing but let your words flow freely after keeping them bottled in for weeks. “I-I have nothing to offer you, nothing that makes me special, nothing ahead of me like you do. It’s an embarrassment to the Fire Lord for you to be with me, and it will be an embarrassment for you to have me as your Fire Lady.”

Stunned by your admission, it takes Zuko a moment to process your words. He steps towards you and you flinch, effectively breaking his heart in the process. It’s clear you’re frightened, but not of him. Your fear is geared toward someone else, and the culprit must be responsible for you now feeling this way.

“Who told you such nonsense?”

“Your father,” you admit quietly much to Zuko’s dismay. His eyes immediately harden and his chest is immediately tight with anger, but he does his best to keep his emotions at bay so as to not upset you further. “He spoke to me when we returned from Ember Island and told me we couldn’t be together. Ozai demanded I break your heart so that you can move on and find another girl more suited for this life than I could ever be. I didn’t want to, I still don’t want to, but I’m doing this so that you can have a better future. I’ll only hold you back, Zuko.”

After taking a moment to digest your words, Zuko carefully steps towards you again. You don’t reject his advances this time, so he allows himself the opportunity to carefully wipe away the steady tears that fall down your cool cheeks. Despite how much of a mess you assume you must look like, the Prince still sees you as the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on.

“I don’t care what my father says,” he assures you gently as he takes your hands in his own. “You’re not an embarrassment, and there’s no other girl that could ever compare to you. I love you, y/n, and I’m not going to let anyone ever get in the way of that.”

“You mean that?” You ask with a quiet sniffle, holding his hands tight as if he’ll leave if you let go.

“Every word. Let my father and anyone else who disapproves of our relationship say what they want to say. I want to be with you, and I hope you still want to be with me too.”

His looks to you with pleading eyes that seek your reassurance, and for a moment you hesitate. Being with Zuko is all you’ve ever wanted, and now he stands here before you professing his loyalty and his love to you. The boy from your childhood had stolen your heart, and you’d be lying if you said you wanted it back.

You know being with him won’t be easy, especially not with his father’s adamant disapproval of your relationship, but you trust Zuko, and so you have to trust that everything will turn out okay. You meet his desperate gaze and gift him a faint smile, and despite knowing you’ll regret this, you wordlessly lean in to meet his lips in a kiss.

You can worry about Ozai’s wrath later. But for now, you allow yourself to melt into his embrace by the moonlit well as you share your first kiss in weeks. It feels right being in his arms once more after spending so much time apart, and you hope you’ll never have to be without his touch ever again.

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy @alexatiu

#melzula writes #request #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #azula #ursa #ozai #angst #atla #atla x reader #atla imagine #avatar the last airbender

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wonryllis · 3 months

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𐙚 THE THREE STAGES OF DATING PARK SUNGHOON.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. park sunghoon with fem!reader 𖥔 ݁ strangers to fling to lovers, absolute fluff. LIB? word count `1115 a revamp

` —IN ALL REALITIES, i want to be tied to you by heart.

001. from a fling to newfound lovers.

sitting beside the window, you watch the rain pouring down hitting against the glass and slipping like drops of tear. the music in your earphones blaring into your ears like you’re in a different world, numbing like an apocalypse. the bus stops for a while and a minute later you feel the presence of one sit beside you; it’s sunghoon, he runs a hand through his slightly wet hair trying to brush off the raindrops and adjusts his blazer before he looks at you with a rather brazen look on his face. raising his brows cockily and reaching forward to pull out one of your buds, to put it in his ear.

as he takes your hand resting on your lap into his, fingers intertwining with yours in a gentle squeeze, you look at him questioningly, “i thought you were going to take your car?” he smiles faintly turning his face to return your gaze, not a viable response, just brown orbs staring at you. his other hand moves to trace his ring on your index finger, the one he gave you this weekend, “wanted to spend some more time with you.”

it was almost ten at night when you had gotten his text to come outside, that he had something to say to you. he ended up confessing and asking you out after you got into an argument about him treating you like you were a summer fling; things could have ended in so many different ways but you’re grateful that for once the sunghoon you knew, put his ego and pride behind and admitted his wrong.

and now that he has entered your life, your world, you wish nothing but for him to stay as long as he can in there. you know this might not go on for forever but however long it may be, you want to put all your heart and efforts into it. it’s just your second day, you have a long way to go, “then let’s go to school together from now on, be it the bus or your car.” and sunghoon swears his heart has never felt what it felt when he heard your voice just now..and your smile: the first love kind. perhaps his first love? only time could tell him.

002. the step to a vulnerable heart.

“your eyes are so pretty,” he blurts out, staring at you with hearts oozing out of him,“sunghoon, i’m literally crying here,” you laugh with a pout, pulling out tissues from the box to wipe your tears and the mascara rolling down the skin of your cheeks. “but you still look so pretty, like a doll.” grinning lazily he holds the side of his head, leaning against the back of the couch while admiring you like a piece of artwork.

it makes you feel even more emotional than you already do,“i look like a mess not a doll” glaring at him playfully, you softly hit his thigh,“but i love the you mess.” his smile grows wider and brighter, pupils dilated, his warm presence feeling like an invitation to neverland; like peter to your wendy.

“stop being so cringey or i’m going to start bawling my eyes out again.” and as if on que you pause for a moment before breaking down again “stop being so pretty then- i told you not to go to that reunion” sunghoon scolds you as he takes the tissue from the grasp of your fingers and holding your face, delicately wipes the falling tears, thumbs caressing the top of your eyes giving it a gentle massage. you weren’t planning to attend the said reunion but the hopes of rekindling your friendship with your ex-bff and clear out the misunderstandings from high school overcame your desire to skip it.

instead all you got were harsh words and false accusations, something sunghoon had already predicted would happen but now all that matters to him is for you to feel better. though it’s true that in his eyes even a mess you look like an angel from heaven he’d rather see you without tears of sadness. he holds onto your hands and kissing your knuckles pulls you into a hug, patting your back in a kind of comfort you know only he can provide. to him you are one displayed at the greatest of exhibitions. a private room where only he can admire the work of emotions.

003. your honeymoon ever after.

you look at sunghoon with confused eyes as he abruptly stops after closing the door to your apartment and turns to you. taking out both of your hands which were previously in his coat pockets he grabs your cheeks, squeezing your face with a lovestruck smile and heart eyes. he pecks the tip of your nose,“your face has gotten cold, i’ll have to kiss it warm,” grinning he plants another two kisses on your cheeks, then the top of your eyelids then your forehead, then three on your lips,“it’s a bonus.”

later when you’re in the kitchen making some hot chocolate and coffee for you both, he comes in, grabs your hand and starts placing kisses on your knuckles before rubbing the skin of your hands between his palms to warm them more,“sunghoon, the heater is on,” you look at him wanting to see what he has to say. he nods giving a lovely wide smile,“i know, just- your hands are precious,”

the next time he behaves this way is an hour later when you’re cuddling in the balcony, stargazing together in the pillow&blanket fort you both made there. he makes you sit between his legs with your back against his front and hugging you from behind, leaving smooches on top of your head,“your hair smells nice,” he mumbles between his kisses, it makes you laugh. just what exactly has happened to him. after he stops you put your head in the crook of his neck and ask,“are you okay, baby? why are you acting like this all of a sudden?”

he locks eyes with you and in a stare of pure love and adoration,“i just realized how lucky i am to have you, you’re so precious and i love you so much. thank you for being with me,” with that he presses another kiss to your temple and hugs you tighter. soon as he’s way into dreamland, snoring softly, you look at his peaceful face and peck his lips with a smile,“i love you a lot too, thank you for coming into my life.” he definitely heard that even in his dreams.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @nanabbg @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly

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bosbas · 5 months

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Chapter 5: I don't want you like a best friend

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.8k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, sexual tension, miscommunication (ish), benedict bridgerton being an idiot, anthony being a slayer in response

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

May 26, 1814 - Word has it that Benedict Bridgerton has returned from his mysterious disappearance to the countryside and was seen at White's with the Beaumont twins last night.

But more interestingly, the second Bridgerton brother was spotted with a certain Miss Y/N Beaumont about the town getting flavored ice in the growing summer heat, with Miss Beaumont appearing notably more joyous with him than during her interactions with other gentlemen she met at the Cowper Ball. While not privy to the intricacies of this friendship, this author does wonder whether Mr Bridgerton's newfound reappearance in the ton will affect Miss Beaumont's standing in the social season. Will suitors be too intimidated to pursue her? Though this matter might prove irrelevant, as Mr Bridgerton might decide to pursue Miss Beaumont himself...

Once again, you found yourself amidst the flurry of commotion that marked the afternoon before a ball. Only this time, you felt considerably less nervous knowing you had Benedict's company to look forward to. This would be your first time seeing him at a ball, dancing together outside the confines of either of your homes. You were quite accustomed to dancing with him. Both sets of your parents had been eager to teach their children the art of dancing, resulting in frequent informal post-dinner dancing lessons where you, more often than not, were paired off with Benedict. And you weren't complaining. He was a magnificent dancer, and you found you could just let go and allow him to take the lead while the two of you waltzed. Instead, you could focus on the feel of his steady hands on your waist, the handsome smile he cast down at you, or the shivers that ran up your spine when he would lean down to whisper something in your ear. Perhaps you were used to dancing with him, but that did not make it any less enjoyable.

Which is why you found yourself unable to keep still, excitedly humming and squirming around in the carriage bound for the Featherington residence. It was like your debut all over again, you thought, but with Ben being the only person who would be seeing you come out for the first time.

"Y/N, that's quite enough!" exclaimed Theo, clearly fed up with your antsy behavior. "Whatever is the matter? We are almost there; are you truly incapable of sitting still for a few more minutes?"

You glared at your older brother, choosing to ignore his comment but stilling your movements nonetheless. You were more than aware that Theo and Bastian were all but dragged to tonight's event by your mother, the pair being less than enthusiastic about attending a ball the very day they returned from their hunting trip, but you were not bothered one bit. If you had to go out and look for a husband ball after ball, they should, at the very least, be forced to be there as well. You envied their position in society, under no pressure to marry so soon and with complete freedom to do whatever they wanted, really. Your own literary pursuits were under somewhat of a time constraint unless you managed to find a suitable husband who would allow you the freedom to continue them, which was becoming increasingly unlikely as the season continued. Despite your mother's comforting words, assuring you that you did not have to marry this season, you honestly wondered how helpful another season would be if it was as fruitless as this one. You reasoned that you might just have to settle for someone you weren't particularly taken with, which was a dreadful thought, but at the very least, you were hoping to find someone who wasn't terribly dull.

After half an hour at the Featherington ball, you feared that "not terribly dull" might have been too high of an expectation to have for potential suitors. You were in the middle of a dance with some titled gentleman, his name you were not entirely sure of, who had been stunned into silence after you made a quip about a book you knew he should have read, as it was included in the Oxford curriculum you had been privy to courtesy of Benedict. Now, the two of you were dancing in complete silence, your eyes scanning the ballroom for any sign of your best friend. Just as you felt your foot being stepped on by your mute dance partner, you turned to see that Ben had entered the ballroom. The sharp pain in your foot was forgotten, and you relaxed, knowing you had an actually good dance to look forward to now.

Benedict eagerly entered the ballroom alongside his mother and older brother, immediately searching the crowd of people for you. Although he would never admit it, he was, for the first time in his life, properly excited for a ball. He knew he would be able to dance with you, granting a socially appropriate opportunity for him to hold on to your waist for a few minutes and feel the curve of your hips, occasionally getting close enough so he could smell your sweet perfume and whisper a silly comment in your ear. A comment that would no doubt make you laugh or at least giggle softly in a way that always seemed to elicit a warm feeling from his chest.

Unable to find you in the crowd, Benedict turned to Violet, who surely would know where you were by now, with a questioning look. She softened her features and gestured toward the dance floor, where Benedict could see you dancing with another man.

He barely heard his mother say over the roar in his ears, "She's out this year darling, with barely a spare moment away from a suitor or another," too focused on the man's hands on yours as he spun you around. Tearing his eyes away from the scene, he looked at Violet, who was already looking at him with a hint of concern. He swallowed thickly and put on a broad smile, not wanting to outwardly show what he was feeling.

"I suppose I'll be competing for her affections tonight, then. Hopefully she has space on her dance card," Benedict uttered, internally cringing.

Turning to Ben, Anthony leaned over and clapped him on the shoulder. "I don't think that'll be too much of a problem, brother. If you'd read Whistledown in your time away, you'd know your dear best friend has scarcely been giving any gentlemen the time of day. At the Cowper ball, Colin and I were practically the only ones she danced with," he said with a meaningful look.

Ben looked puzzled, not entirely trusting his brother's account of your season so far. He probed further, "A couple of men asked the twins about her at White's last night, so I just assumed she was having a lot of success." At the mention of the gentleman's club, Violet excused herself and went to go chat with some other mamas milling about the ballroom.

"She is having a lot of success, to be sure. Lots of gentlemen callers and the like. I just don't believe she actually likes anyone just yet," Anthony explained, seeing Benedict's shoulders relax just a fraction.

Trying to appear nonchalant, Ben responded, "Oh. That's a shame then that she hasn't found anyone she connects with."

"Are you sure you think it's a shame?" came Anthony's teasing reply, earning him a small shove from Benedict.

Just before Anthony could return the shove, you came up to the Bridgertons, walking as fast as was appropriate at an event like this. "Oh, thank heavens!" you exclaimed. "I thought the dance would never end. What good is an Oxford degree if you haven't even read The Odyssey?"

Anthony couldn't help but laugh at your exasperated demeanor, making a dig at your previous dance partner. But Ben was too eager to get you to himself. He softly grasped your wrist and took hold of your dance card, wordlessly asking for your permission. You raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

"I can't say yes if you don't ask, Ben," came your response. Yes, he was your best friend, but he needed to show some decorum. Besides, you really wanted to hear the words coming out of his mouth, needing the sweet sound engrained in your mind so you could revisit the scene later when you were in bed playing over the best parts of the night.

Stifling a smile and giving you a slight bow, Benedict looked deep into your eyes and flashed you the most charming, rakish grin he could muster. "Miss Y/N Beaumont, would you do me the honor of giving me this dance?" he spoke lowly, sending you a cheeky wink.

A simple "yes" from you would have sufficed, but you were finding it difficult to form any words at all. Your throat had gone dry, and you were astounded by the intense effect his words had on you. Having such a close relationship, the two of you were as informal as could be. But here, in this ballroom, barely even touching you, Ben had managed to leave you feeling warm and out of breath with a more formal tone than you had ever heard him speak to you. You maintained eye contact with him, licking your lips in a failed attempt to get something out to indicate that, yes, you desperately wanted to dance with him. You settled for a quick nod, pushing your dance card-clad wrist further in his direction.

He clasped your hand in both of his, reaching his fingers to touch your own. A teasing smile pulled at his lips. "I can't take you to the dance floor if you don't say anything, Y/N," he retorted, throwing back your earlier words. You finally broke eye contact, shaking your head and looking down, laughing at yourself.

"Yes, Mr Bridgerton. I would be delighted," came your airy response. Your breath hitched in your throat as he interlocked his fingers with yours and put a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd during the short walk back to the dance floor.

"Very well, Miss Beaumont. But I insist you must call me Benedict," he said from behind you, lips dangerously close to your ear. You waited until you reached the dance floor, fighting goosebumps, and spun around to face him.

"Am I not allowed to call you Ben anymore, then?" you teased.

Ben could only smile down at you, a twinkle in his eye, "You can call me anything you like, darling."

Before you had time to process his words, which had undoubtedly left you breathless, the music started, and the two of you began dancing. It was a wonderfully familiar feeling, and you were gliding through the ballroom with ease, working perfectly in sync during every step, turn, and twirl. You were delighted. After far too long dancing with uninteresting or uncoordinated suitors, you could finally relax and just enjoy the dance, as well as the feeling of Ben's hand touching yours.

"So how is it, really? Looking for a husband?" Benedict asked after you had found a good rhythm.

Immediately, the topic clouded your features. You were unable to meet his gaze for fear of tears springing in your eyes. You bit your lip and composed yourself, blinking away any tears that had formed. With Ben, you could just be yourself; there was no need to pretend to want something you most certainly did not.

"Ummm... it's proven to be a challenge," you started, sniffling slightly. "Rather, I knew it would be challenging, but I didn't know how impossible it would feel. Every man wants a perfect, mindless housewife, and I fear I will be unable to fulfill that role. I want something different, Ben," you said, finally looking into his eyes. You were met with his sympathetic gaze, searching your face to take in all of your minuscule expressions. His hand softly squeezed your waist as you continued, "And I don't know if I will ever find someone who will allow me to do that. I can tell because barely anyone shows interest after they truly start to get to know me and can't keep up with the conversation," you added with a small laugh.

After twirling you around, he spoke, "I know, I can't say I envy your position. Truthfully, I would rather do anything other than get married at the moment, so I cannot imagine how you're feeling."

His words were thrown out almost casually, but you felt a stabbing pain in your gut as he said them. You already knew he didn't want to marry you. It would never work. He was your best friend. But it still hurt to hear him say it out loud. You were saved from having to respond by being twirled around again, so you simply nodded at him to continue, not trusting yourself to speak.

He sensed a change in your demeanor and thought that perhaps the prospect of marriage so soon was still a sensitive topic, so he tried to offer words of comfort. "At least you don't seem to have a lot of serious suitors right now. That way, you have time before you actually have to settle down."

But as soon as his words left his mouth and your face fell, he knew they were the wrong ones. You were staring off into the distance, refusing to make eye contact with him. The dance was almost over, and the pair of you were nearing Anthony once again, so Benedict knew he had to fix this in the next few moments while the two of you still had any semblance of privacy. Scrambling, he desperately searched for the correct words to say, blurting out the first thing he thought of to make you feel better.

"No, I didn't mean it like that, Y/N. I promise. You are so beautiful, and smart, and funny, and caring, and kind, and any man would be crazy to not want to marry you. With time, I am certain you will find a suitor who feels this way," came his rushed response.

Stunned into silence, seconds away from breaking down into sobs, you cut the dance short, disentangled your hands from Benedict's, and rushed to the ballroom exit, hoping not to cause a scene. The stabbing pain in your stomach was migrating to your chest. You were struggling to breathe and had tears blurring your vision, but luckily, you saw your mother near the exit and grabbed her hand, pulling her with you. She threw a startled apology over her shoulder at whoever she had been talking to and stopped you once you had left the ballroom.

Turning you around and firmly putting your hands on your shoulders, she scolded, "Whatever is the matter, Y/N? Why on earth would you–"

Stopped short by the sight of tears streaming down your cheeks, she softened and opted instead to hold you tightly to her, shushing you and stroking your hair.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked carefully.

You let out a choked sob, shaking your head. Primrose kissed the top of your head, not letting you go.

"That's alright, sweeting; we'll just leave the ball early then. Would you like that?"

You could only nod, holding onto her as she led you outside to the carriage. Desperate to go home and emotionally exhausted, you let yourself be directed into your seat and all but collapsed on top of your mother as soon as she was inside as well.

Back in the ballroom, Benedict stood frozen, looking in the direction you had run off in. Despite his utter confusion at your quick change in mood, he felt a crushing weight in his chest at being the cause of your distress. He thought things had been going quite well, actually. He had no idea why he had not been able to soothe you, usually an expert at reading your emotions, and had instead worsened the situation considerably. Wide-eyed, he turned to look at Anthony, who stood a few feet away. Ben was still stunned but shrugged at his brother, muttering, "Women" as an explanation for your sudden distress.

Benedict certainly had not been expecting Anthony to coddle him, but he could not help but be shocked when his brother's face transformed into a furious scowl, fists forming at his sides. He had barely reached his brother's side when Benedict felt Anthony's finger poking his chest aggressively.

"You are a complete and utter buffoon," whispered Anthony harshly, hoping to avoid a scene despite his overflowing anger. Benedict only sputtered in confusion, unsure of what to say.

"Oh, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I heard the last bit of your conversation, and obviously, this is a sensitive topic for Y/N. A large part of the reason no man has bothered to keep pursuing her is that they know the two of you have an incredibly strong 'friendship,'" continued Anthony in the same tone of voice, emphasizing the word 'friendship.' "You would know this if you bothered to talk to anyone at White's last night or kept up with your supposed best friend at all. But you were off in the countryside doing god knows what for whatever reason, and she had to face this alone."

Ire bubbled up in Benedict, feeling that his brother's response was uncalled for. "I cannot possibly have elicited this level of aggression from you. What the hell does Y/N's search for a husband have to do with me? Who she marries is entirely her choice," shot back Ben in the same angry whisper Anthony had been speaking in.

Anthony stepped back, looking at Benedict with disbelief. "You are either completely blind or the biggest fool I have ever had the displeasure of knowing."

With that, he turned on his heel, leaving Benedict reeling, still stunned, not to mention confused. He was replaying every interaction he had with you tonight, trying to find what he said or did that might have set you off, and, hopefully, trying to find a way to fix this.

---

Cass sat perched on your bed, where you lay in your night robe with a puffy face from the extensive crying you had done the previous night. Your mother had been discreet upon returning to your home, but your younger sister had inevitably heard you both come in and went to greet you in hopes of knowing what transpired at the Featherington Ball. Not wanting to explain your heartbreak to either of them in the moment, you had gone straight to your room and locked the door, not even allowing your lady's maid to help you out of your gown. But you knew you could not avoid your sister forever. So when morning came, Cass had slipped in before the rest of the Beaumonts rose. She found you already awake, staring out the window.

"Cass, I fear I have gotten myself into a most precarious situation," you started. She said nothing, opting instead to pat your leg in support. Her eyes grew wide as you briefly recounted your dance with Ben the previous night. You were near tears again, the pain of rejection still fresh.

"Well, I think Benedict Brigerton is an idiot. And a massive one, at that," your sister huffed out once you were finished speaking.

You let out a wet laugh in surprise, chastising her, "Cassandra! You must not use such foul language!"

"It's rather warranted in this situation, actually," responded Cass. Ever the fiery personality, you appreciated her fierce protectiveness in this moment.

"Honestly, I've gone over our conversation about a million times since it happened, and I don't think he actually said anything wrong. He doesn't want to marry. I don't have to worry about getting married right at this very moment, and I will eventually find someone who wants to marry me. Someone who is not him," you said carefully.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but you pushed through, needing to say this out loud. "All of this is true. If Colin or Anthony or anyone else had said this, I would be inclined to agree with them. I think-" you paused, composing yourself.

"I think I have genuine feelings for him, which I had not entirely realized were there, or at least I had not categorized them as... whatever they actually are," you finished, unable to stop the tears from streaming down your face now. Cass reached over to hug you and moved to sit next to you on top of your covers.

You were still sniffling when she spoke up, "I was wondering how long it would take you to realize." Seeing your dirty look, she let out a laugh, "Sorry! I'm sorry! It was just quite obvious to me. Or to anyone with eyes, probably."

You put your head against the headboard behind you, closing your eyes in frustration and responding, "It's just very inconvenient that I feel this way. Obviously, he does not feel the same, which is obviously alright," you shot Cass a pointed look, warning her not to interject. "So, I believe that to actually find a husband, I must change my friendship with Benedict. Slightly."

"How do you mean?" asked Cass.

Rubbing your temples, you answered her, "Perhaps, seeing him less. So I'm not distracted. And so I stop comparing every suitor to him. And maybe not dancing at balls anymore. To have more time to dance with actual potential husbands. And because I do believe I will fall in love with him if we keep dancing like we did last night, which would not be helpful in the least." You had stopped crying now, your plan of action filling you with resolve.

"Are you implying that you aren't already in love with him? Because we both know that's not tr-" Cass attempted to say, before getting hit by one of your pillows square in the face. But this time, you were laughing with her. It was all going to be alright. You would find someone, and your feelings for Ben would soon become a thing of the past.

—

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theship-thewalrus · 1 year

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This is My Idea || Benedict Bridgerton

benedict bridgerton x reader

based on the song 'this is my idea' from The Swan Princess

word count: 1682 words reading time: about 7 minutes warnings: none really

I can't believe I'm stuck with her all summer I bet she doesn't wrestle, hunt or box

The boy who stood in front of you looked conceited. The brown, untamable hair that looked similar to a bird's nest you had passed in the carriage. He looked rather unimpressed as his eyes scanned you, for someone so young he seemed to resemble a sour-faced mother.

"Where are you manners dear? Introduce yourself."

The voice of your father filled your eyes, causing your eyes to cast back to him for a moment. You were sure your face convey a look of uncertainty almost asking if you truly must indulge this idea. The carriage ride to the countryside had taken some time, Adurey Hall, they had called it. The best place to spend the summer, or so you were told.

"(Y/N), a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

As you bowed her head slightly to show respect there was a beat of silence. It caused your eyes to flick up, wondering what fool did not understand how to greet someone. You watched the shoulder of the boy in front of you get knocked forward, a puff of air leaving his chest. A scowl formed on his face as he stepped forward bowing his head and holding out his hand.

"Benedict."

As he took your hand in his there was a small pause again, both of you looking back to your parents. Almost pleading for them to intervene, asking them with your eyes if they were truly going to make you both do this. Yet, all that was returned were encouraging smiles. The kiss on the back of your hand was quick, you quickly retracted your hand to wipe it on your dress and him to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.

What a fun summer you had in store.

We've tried all summer but we just can't lose her

"Wait up! Anthony! Benedict! This isn't funny!"

Three pairs of footsteps could be heard running across the floors of Audrey Hall. Maids clinging to the walls of the halls as three children barrel through. The two boys were much fast than you, something you blamed on your skirt. You could hear their mutters of each other, encouraging the other to run faster in an attempt to lose them.

The doors flung open as the trio ran outside, the boys gaining ground against you. The wooden floor you had been running on quickly changed to stone and then uneven grass, that you were sure you were going to trip over. The ground only worsen as you trailed the boys to the forest that encased the grounds. Perhaps if you were in the first under better circumstances you would not be so annoyed.

"Quick, Anthony! Before she gets here."

You could hear Benedict urging his brother to climb the rope ladder to their little treehouse. Moving forward, your fingers just missed the rope of the ladder to the treehouse. The two boys are much too fast in pulling it up and away from you. Looking up at them with an angered and displeased expression you were only met with their smug ones. Having gotten out of having to spend any time with you for now.

"You'd think she'd take a hint a learn to read."

You could hear Benedict tease, waving a piece of paper at you from his higher position. Squinting you could make out 'no girls' in scratchy words and a terribly drawn picture of what you assumed to be you.

"This really isn't fair." "We really couldn't care."

With a huff, you picked a plank of wood that stood tall near the tree. Though it seemed to be the main support of the tree house as you heard the planks of wood groan and shift under the boy's weight. Before it all came crashing down around you, boys included.

She tries to talk me into playing dress-up She's always flirting with the castle guards

You don't quite remember when you had given up trying to befriend Benedict. It was clear the pair of you simply had no intention of ever wanting to get to know each other. Perhaps if you both had not been forced together for months, since you were both young, it would be different. Now you seemed to spend your time with the Bridgertons entertaining his younger siblings, gossiping with Daphne and talking to the various servants.

It was not unusual to find yourself outside, you enjoyed the time away from the ton and in the countryside. Yet, this particular time you seemed to be occupying your time talking with a footman. He was rather young and you must admit, easy on the eyes. You sparked up the conversation with him during your walk around the grounds. Asking him to accompany you on a quick walk in the nice weather.

"Why, I did not know you were so knowledgeable on the different Flora around Britain."

Your voice was smooth as you spoke, looking at the young man from the corner of your eyes. The pair of you stood a respectable distance apart. You heard him chuckle before he answered, turning his head to face you.

"Well, miss, I tend to find myself out in the forest in my free time." "How wonderful,"

You muse a small smile on your face as the pair of you turned to head back to the manor. Though a figure in one of the many windows caught your eye. Squinting slightly you attempt to figure out who happened to be spying, you assumed it would be Daphne, the girl would want to know everything as soon as you get inside. But much to your surprise the figure was none other than the man you were avoiding, Benedict. You could not make out his face, but you could tell by his body language that he was not in the greatest mood.

I'd like her better if she'd lose at cards

Sitting across from Benedict you peer over your cards at him. There was one thing you both agreed on, and that was a love for card games. At times you had both been known to wager something, a necklace here or a few coins there. But during your winning streak, Benedict was too fearful, having already lost too much. He already owed you one of his paintings and some poetry.

You pretended to not notice Colin peering over your shoulder, trying to grab a look at your cards. You doubted he could see much or even knew how to play. You watched Benedict's movements carefully, you doubted he would suddenly win this round, you weren't worried about losing.

"Four sevens and a ten." "I think I've won again."

Your words were covered in honey as you showed your card. Displaying them opposite his with a smirk playing on your lips. You could not help yourself, it felt nice to win against the boy. Considering you could never seem to win against his older brother. Small cheers from Daphne and Eloise were heard as Benedict groaned and leaned back in his chair unimpressed.

For as long as I remember We've been told we'd someday wed

Somewhere along the years you and Benedict had figured out the reason why you were both forced together every June until September. Your fathers had been friends and you guessed they desired a way to keep your families close. Unfortunately for you, you had simply been born close to Benedict. Thus, it seemed simple that the pair of you should wed. Though it was rare they spoke about it, there were always countless hints and pushes to shove you both together.

Being pushed around in this manner was not want you had expected during this visit to the Brigdertons. You could feel your father pulling and shoving you in all sorts of directions. Your unhappy grumbling going unheard by the man. That morning you had been shoved into a rather nice dress and your corset did up so tight you were sure you were going to pass out.

I see him smiling and my knees start buckling I see inside him and my doubts are gone

You heard the door shut behind you, your father leaving you in a room by yourself. Hearing another door slam shut on the other side of the room. Casting your eyes over you saw Benedict. He seemed to change over the last time you had seen him, matured a bit more. He did seem so brash and aloof as before, more refined and put together.

You watched his eyes as he scanned you as well, realising he was not alone. Confidently you took a few confident steps towards him. Though he seemed to stumble a little at the start he was quick to extend his hand as he meet you in the middle. Extending your hand he grabbed it softly, you took note of the charcoal on his fingertips that he had not seemed to clean yet. Though you did not seem to mind all that much. Softly kissing the back of your hand he would straighten up once more. Yet kept his hand on yours, it brought a smile to your face.

"How have you been these past months?"

Your question breaks whatever trace the man was under, bringing his attention back to you. There was a pause as you watched him think of a response. Perhaps not all that much had changed since you were young, the man still needed to be pulled through conversation.

"G-Good! I've been good." "That is good it hear."

There is another pause for a small moment before he seemed to catch on to what you were waiting for.

"And how have you been?" "Well, I spent the colder months inside by the fire." "Good, good. I had painted the manor in a winter setting. I would be happy to show it to you." "It would be my pleasure to see."

This is my idea This is my idea What a good idea, it's such a charming and romantic notion.

#benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton

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klausysworld · 11 months

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Can u write something about the reader complaining about how klaus never talks to her about his issues so one day he ends up opening up to her about mikael and stuff when he was a kid and the reader comforts him?

What does it mean to be a man?

Klaus stormed straight up the stairs when we got home.

He, Elijah and Rebekah had just faced Mikael, their father.

Hayley and I had been with the wolves and with Hope to make sure Mikael couldn’t get to her.

We all returned to the abattoir when we got the call that it was safe and the silence that over took the home was heavy.

Hayley took Hope up to bed, Rebekah went off to find Marcel and Elijah took a seat with a glass of scotch. I debated going straight after Klaus but decided he needed a moment.

So I sat opposite Elijah and began to think.

“Elijah? May I ask you something?” I questioned quietly and he looked up to me in response

“What did Mikael…do to him?” I asked lowering my voice “I know that he was a bad man but I mean, was it verbal or physical or…” I trailed and Elijah stood up

“Physical mostly, you would have to ask Niklaus, I don’t think he would want you to hear it from anyone other than him. It’s a very emotional topic for him and well…he doesn’t exactly handle those well” he concluded and I nodded

“Do you think he would be upset with my asking?”

“He trusts you, more than he trusts most. Perhaps he won’t share it all but some is better than none” he replied

“Thank you Elijah” I whispered with a weak smile before heading to the stairs.

I went into our room but Klaus wasn’t in there. I frowned and sat on our bed, I listened for a moment before hearing a sniffling coming from the bathroom door. I stood slowly and cautiously made my way over, careful to not made sound to hear. He was whispering inaudibly to himself and clearing his throat.

I gave a light knock to the door before twisting the handle and opening it. He turned his head to me, his eyes were red and lashes wet but I didn’t mention it. He was only in his boxers for bed and his skin was clean from any blood.

“You okay?” I asked gently and he nodded before walking toward me. A kiss was pressed to my forehead, his hand found mine and he pulled me over to our bed.

“How was it with Hope in the bayou?” He questioned, his throat was croakier than normal and he tried to clear his throat again to get rid of it but it didn’t seem to work.

“It was okay, it’s muddy out there even in the summer but Hope had fun with the other kids” I told him while he pulled my shirt and shorts off so I was only in my underwear. “Did everything go smoothly with your- with Mikael? You took a little longer than we thought” I asked nervously. His eyes darted away from mine as his jaw clenched and he leaned forward to grab his top that I had worn to bed last night.

“It was…not great” he replied shortly.

He pulled the top over my head and I pushed my arms through the sleeves. He glanced to my eyes before shifted under the covers and opening his arm for me to slot beside him.

I moved down and into his hold, wrapping an arm around his torso and kissing his shoulder “what happened?” I asked and he sighed

“He was just going on about nothing” he muttered

“Well like what?” I pressed but I could feel his body shuffling uncomfortably as his tongue wetted his lips

“It doesn’t really matter now” he mumbled, “it’s been and done, no need to cry over spilt milk”

“I think this is a little more than spilt milk Klaus” I whispered

“It’s in the past” he muttered “it doesn’t mean anything now”

“Then why are you holding me like I’m going to disappear?” I asked while now being held tight against him, his arms were strong around me and his heart was going faster.

He didn’t respond and I sighed, I kissed his neck softly and felt his face against my hair

“It’s okay to cry sometimes” I whispered

“I don’t need to cry” he mumbled quietly

“Yes you do, everyone does” I murmur “and that’s okay, you don’t have anything to prove”

He remained silent again. I began to trace patterns onto his back and waited a moment as I heard him swallow thickly and sniff lightly

“You will always be more of a man than he ever was” I whispered and he tensed somewhat

“He was always seen as a strong man” he murmured quietly, “in our village, when we were humans, he was seen as higher up”

I hummed in acknowledgment, not wanted to ask too many questions yet.

“He was good with a sword…and with an arrow, he was an excellent hunter.” He continued “he just…he wasn’t an excellent father”

“Was he cruel to all of you?” I asked and he paused a moment

“Yes…Rebekah not as much, it was very frowned upon to lay a hand on a girl even then. The village was small, he wouldn’t risk that kind of chat going around. Besides I don’t think any of us would have let him touch her” he explained

“But you, Kol, Elijah and Finn?”

“Finn was their angel, both my mother and father. Kol was smart, which is a stupid sentence but he knew how far he could push things. He knew how to get away with things. His was more verbal” he muttered, he paused more a moment and pulled me closer “Elijah was one of mother’s favourites, she adored him and tried to reason with Mikael to leave him be. He mainly only got hit if he defended me”

“Why you?” I asked confused “he didn’t even know you weren’t his until later?”

“I don’t…I don’t know” he whispered, his voice growing quieter “he just…despised me”

We remained silent for several more minutes, my fingers played with the baby hairs at the top of his neck while his face nuzzled my hair.

“I’m gonna turn the light off so we can go to sleep okay?” I whispered as I pulled away from his embrace. I leaned behind me and flicked the lamp off before turning back to him. His eyes were concentrated on pillow beside him in a daze. I laid back down and faced opposite him, my hand brushed over his hair gently while I listened to him sigh out and his lashes flutter. “I love you Niklaus” I whispered to him, his gaze was on mine in an instant with water building up over his eyes to have a glossy affect. I smiled sadly at him as his jaw clenched to keep his tears at bay. My hand held the side of his face and my thumb wiped the stray tear that ran down the side of his nose.

“I love you more” he uttered as a few more tears escaped his eyes and he curled forward so his face was facing down. His hands tugged the duvet to hide the majority of his face.

I ducked under the covers with him and moved closer, I pressed my lips to his forehead before pulling his face to rest against the top of my chest. He let out a hot breath of air before releasing a quiet sob, my eyes closed as I stroked through his curls. “He can’t hurt you anymore” I told him quietly

“He hurts me every day” he cried “I’m just like him sometimes” he choked “I hurt people”

“Not like he did, you are nothing like him. Not ever.” I disagreed while shaking my head “look at how you are with Hope, you would never, never harm her” I reminded “you protect her because you love her unconditionally”

“Why couldn’t he love me like that?” He sobbed and my heart squeezed in pain

“Because he should never have been a father. There are certain people in the world who are just cruel and should not be blessed with souls like yours in their lives”

His head shook as he clutched onto the shirt I wore. “I’m sorry” he whispered

“For what?” I asked confused

“For pushing you away” he mumbled “I didn’t mean to make it so hard to love me”

“None of that matters to me” I promised him “I knew that you struggled, I knew what I was doing. And everything is okay now isn’t it?”

“I would never hurt you” he whispered

“I know that” I reassured “did…did Mikael hurt your mother too?” I asked timidly

“No…I think maybe he manipulated her but he didn’t touch her”

“Did she hurt you? Apart from the curse?” I questioned unsure

“She…she weakened me and damaged my self worth. She stood by my father when he abused me and said nothing. I will never forgive her for leaving me to suffer at his hands, she knew what he did to me”

“What did he do to you?” I asked gently “if you don’t mind my asking” I added quickly

“He humiliated me. All of the time, he made sure I was seen as weak and insignificant to everyone that knew of our family. And then he would beat me if I ever suggested I was more than a rug for him to wipe his feet on.” His frown had deepened, his tone sounding a little angrier rather than sad at the memories “I was never good at anything, I squished berries to make art instead of hunting. I was a less than a man in his eyes, and I still am despite all I have accomplished. I am stronger than he is and yet he still sees me as worthless” he continued, my hand stroked his face as he spoke to calm his swarm of emotions.

“You know that he’s wrong though, right?” I checked quietly and he remained silent

“You are strong, yes, but being vulnerable sometimes doesn’t make you any less a man” I told him firmly “do you remember what you said that one time? That you are the thing lesser men fear?” I asked and he breathed out a laugh and nodded “well I believe that still stands to be true” I murmured and kissed his cheek “you are much more than any other, you always have been. Do not doubt that” I told him “Do not ever doubt yourself again because of one pathetic excuse of a person.”

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strawberryya · 9 months

Text

how to befriend a vampire

Yeosang x reader

synopsis: what could be better when you’re bored of life in every way than a hot vampire fuck buddy?

word count: 2k

genre/contains: smut, vampire au, vampire!yeosang, gn!reader, strangers to lovers/fwb, unprotected sex, general tw for vampirism and being bitten (the word blood is not used but heavily implied), stalker-ish behavior from both individuals, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms

rating: 18+

a/n: first arousal august fic is here! I hope everyone likes it and looks forward to the next little blurb I have ready and waiting in the drafts :>

my arousal august masterlist

original event for arousal august

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Summer was over and new classes were about to begin. Returning to your normal routine wasn’t too hard, you had done it before. Your friends were the same, your dorm was the same, although your roommates were new, and the classes all felt as usual. Nothing special was happening at all. Of course, it would’ve been nice if something were to happen, anything really. Just something that would make life this year a bit different than last year. Maybe you should drop a class and pick up something that has nothing to do with your goal, perhaps cults would be fun to study for a term or two?

Nothing was wrong, it was just so very…boring.

“A back-to-class party?” Not a terrible idea, you reasoned when your new roommates asked if you wanted to come along to the park that first weekend back at campus.

It could be horrible, but at least it would mean that something would happen other than studying or watching movies with your new, and so far reasonable, roommates. It had been a while since you had been with anyone too. Maybe this party was the perfect opportunity to find someone a bit attractive to hook up with. The one from last year had ended up getting into a relationship during the summer - rather annoying, because he really wasn’t that bad in bed.

You needed orgasms to get through the school year, and so you went to the party. Dressed up from head to toe, in clothes that hugged your ass and glitter in your hair, hoping that the outfit would be enough to gain someone’s attention.

Your mission was… sort of successful. It did attract tons of people, some really attractive people, and some incredibly sleazy and creepy people.

You regretted coming after about two hours of nonstop socializing with other students which led absolutely nowhere. Nobody grabbed your attention, everyone fit perfectly into the little presaved folders in your head. It was so predictable, so incredibly boring.

“Should we just give up?” You shouted to one of your new roommates. At least, you found some hope in the fact that neither one of them had ended up finding someone interesting among the large crowd that flew past one another like ants in the campus park. You weren’t completely alone in yur failure.

“I’m ready to go, honestly,” one of your roommates agreed, while the other one had already disappeared in the crowd without acknowledging your question.

You grabbed ahold of one another. Neither of you sober enough to be able to navigate your way home without losing one another in the night. With arms folded together, in a way only possible for two almost strangers when drunk, you two trudged away from the party and the loud bass that made your head pound.

“I wanted to fuck someone tonight,” you groaned and fake sobbed into the chilly night air, your roommate only laughing at your unapologetic whining. “I’m not kidding, I don’t care who it is. I just really wanna be obsessed with someone! I wanna be in love! I don’t care if it’s actually love or just really great sex.”

It seemed a bit silly to say out loud, but it was the truth. You probably wouldnt have been so honest with your roommate this soon had you been sober tonight. Nevertheless, the truth was that you just wanted someone to think about, someone to crush on, someone to sleep with when the days became too boring to handle by yourself.

You were wobbling down the cobbled streets on your way back to the dorm. Your arm was still entangled with your roommates, thoughts having moved on from your honest feelings and instead focusing on whether or not it would be possible to order fries to your dorms.

When he bumped into your arm, or more correctly, when you stumbled into his arm as he passed, you almost fell over. Enraged at the audacity of this random guy to walk right into you, you turned back around, prepared to yell at him with all your might. But when you began shouting a loud “Hey!”, your anger soon ebbed out as the stranger turned around, revealing his perfect face in the yellow light from the streetlight above. His features were striking even in the dark. His eyes were piercing. His hair was dark and pushed back from his forehead in a light wave. Beside one of his eyes, you noticed a blushy pink birthmark, almost matching the pretty red shade of his lips. His lips… were a lot redder than any lips you had seen on a random guy before. Was he wearing lipstick?

You had forgotten why you had yelled out to the stranger. His gorgeously handsome face distracted you completely.

“Y/n, let’s gooo,” your roommate whined, pulling at your arm, evidently not enraptured by the pretty stranger you had bumbled into. How was that possible? You had never seen him before, never known he existed, and you were already obsessed with him. His name, his interests, his favorite place to kiss his lover, you needed to know it all. You needed to befriend him.

The night was mostly a blur the following day, everything except for the stranger.

For some reason, his face never left your mind. For two weeks you searched every room for him, scanned the streets as you walked down them, and took walks on the campus every shot you got.

You never found him. He could’ve been an illusion, but you knew deep down that he wasn’t. At least looking for the mystery man in the night had given you something to think about, someone to obsess over, even if you didn’t even know his name.

It took yet two more weeks and another walk to the convenience store to finally find that one necessary piece of information. You didn’t understand how it had taken this long to find him, it wasn’t like he was hiding. He was walking around in the park, just like the last time you had bumped into him. Dark hair falling onto the sides of his head, a long coat half open to reveal a simple black polo and jeans, almost exactly like last time. You took it all in, stopping mid-step as to not loose sight of him, the plastic bag you had bought filled with snacks and drinks for the late-night studying you had planned on doing was rustling in the wind. He had seen you too.

He wasn’t moving either, maybe he thought you were a weirdo for simply staring at him in the dark park.

You drew in a breath. “Hey you! What’s your name?!” You shouted across the grass. If you were going to be a weirdo, you would do it properly.

He didn’t shout back. Far away someone shouted in the night. You looked towards the sound for half a second out of reflex, and when you looked back the stranger was gone.

Again?? You thought and damned the universe for teasing you like this.

“Yeosang.”

The voice was deep and it sent chills down your back. It made you quickly turn around, finding the stranger right behind you now. He was even hotter this close.

“Yeosang…” you whispered under your breath. He was rather tall. He gave you a small smile, white teeth flashing cold in the moonlight. Unusually pointy. “I’m y/n…”

His smile got wider. “I know”

Your mind blanked, but you needed to say something. “Let’s be friends!” You hurried to say before he could have a chance to mysteriously disappear again. His smile dropped, eyes looking at you surprised and slightly suspicious. Understandable.

“Sure,” he said after a moment of only the wind in your ears, a smirk appearing on his face. “If a friend is all you want, I can grant you that.”

“It’s not,” you said honestly and quickly. His smirk grew. “I want a lot more, but I only found out your name ten seconds ago. Thought I’d give you a chance to get to know me before I tried getting you into bed with me.”

You felt feverish, the embarrassing reality of what you were telling this stranger hitting you hard.

“I know enough,” he said before his hand found the side of your face and his lips leaned in to meet yours. He tasted like aluminum for a split second but the way you could feel his toned body against yours where your coats fell open distracted you and you soon forgot about the unusual taste.

A swishing sound made you open your eyes again, the cold from the night air in the campus park seemingly gone and replaced with much warmer air. You were inside, you were inside your own bedroom. You didn’t know how it had happened, you didn’t really know what had happened, and you didn’t know why you didn’t even care. The stranger in the night was named Yeosang, and he was kissing down your neck in your bedroom, pulling your coat off your body, and throwing it into the corner of the room. He was no ordinary person, that you had already caught onto.

“Can I bite you?” He mumbled against your skin.

His hands were caressing your body and your mind was buzzing with desire, but the desire didn’t clog your mind yet. You were clearminded and saying “Yes” before you could stop and think about what a bad decision it might be to agree.

Small pecks now your throat made arousal pool in your lower abdomen. “Bite me as you fuck me,” you whispered. This made Yeosang smile against your skin, moving up to kiss you passionately once again as he pulled his own clothes off along with yours. Pushing you down on the bed as his hard cock pushed against your thigh. It would be tight, but you needed him to use you and stretch you out enough to make life interesting again.

That, he did. Nothing was mundane or boring about his hands on your body or his tongue on your chest. He was surprisingly gentle as he began filling your hole with his erect cock, but his pace grew feral as he continued pounding into you. You were moaning and clawing at his sculpted body when he hit the right spot inside of you. When his lips let go of you, you looked at him gazing down at your bare neck, he wanted to bite you for real, it was clear he meant it, and you wanted him to as well. You shifted your neck, inviting him to do what he wished. “You look delicious,” he mumbled before he threw himself onto your neck, piercing the skin ever so slightly. You barely even felt it, but the way he suckled on your skin after the small sting felt like he was trying to mark your skin, sending goosebumps down your body when he continued licking and humming against your neck.

You came as he pounded into you, his hands working their magic while getting to know your body. He didn’t stop until you came for a second time, whining at the overstimulation.

He cared for your neck and cleaned you up, his movements swift and gentle as he handled you. He caressed your skin with great care, careful not to be too rough. A world’s difference from the way he had fucked you a moment ago. He didn’t force any small talk, a nice change from most other guys you had been with. He had gotten dressed and given you some of your own pajamas to put on before he was ready to leave.

He couldn’t leave just like this, you collected all the courage you had left and began with an unsure voice. “We’re friends now, right? So you’re welcome here anytime, we could do this again…”

“We’re friends, yeah.” He smirked and looked at you as you pulled your shirt over your head. “I’ll be here if you need me, or if you’re just… bored.” The last word he said was paired with a small wink. You chuckled nervously, he had known all along. Could he read your mind as well? Maybe you could find out next time.

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

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#yeosang smut #cultofdionysusnet #k-labels #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #arousal august #ateez smut #vampire yeosang #vampire ateez #ateez yeosang #kang yeosang #kang yeosang smut #ateez #yeosang #gn reader

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 10 months

Text

gevivys (beauty) │ Chapter 7: Confrontation

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 │Chapter 9 │Chapter 10 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: Daemon returns to King's Landing after ten years in exile, intent on rekindling his affair with Rhaenyra. He wasn't expecting you - the revelation changes everything.

Hello, everyone! AGAIN! Because this was originally a single chapter, I didn’t want to leave it on the cliffhanger I did with Chapter 6. Therefore, ya get a two-for-one deal today! YAY! Just got some edits to do of the remaining three chaps and then this instalment SHOULD be done and dusted. Thank you to my slap daddy @ewanmitchellcrumbs and my boo @randomdragonfires for graciously allowing me to yeet this at them in group chat!

TRIGGERS: incest, purity culture, violence, age gap.

Whenever something in his life goes wrong, the solution can be found in a brothel.

It is a precept that has ruled Daemon from the moment he had first seen a whore’s tits at the impressionable age of thirteen summers, Viserys having finally capitulated to setting him on the path to manhood. He’d found it between the thighs of a buxom redhead, or so he had thought; now, he’s not so sure. Nonetheless, he finds himself retreating to familiarity of fragrant burning oils and musk, of moans and sighs and the allure of gleaming flesh at times of struggle. It is where he had buried his vexation and frustration over his brother’s repeated refusals to take him seriously, where he had mourned the loss of his nephew, where he had spent the past ten years fucking away the anger and the guilt and the weight of everything he was.

It is where he has gone now, in the wake of that awful, senseless altercation with the Lord of the Reach after he had dared to—Hm. Don’t think of it. He’s not looking forward to the scolding his brother will give him when he returns.

Or, it occurs to him, what will come to light as a result of my actions.

That might be the very worst part of the whole affair. When the King goes hunting for a reason that his wayward brother would strike down a member of the nobility, he knows the event alone will not satisfy as a full account of what took place. For why would Daemon Targaryen come to blows over mere implication? And, for that matter, why would Daemon Targaryen be present at Lord Tyrell’s meeting with the Princess at all? From there, the web comes unbound, and he is discovered.

Fuck’s sake. This is not how he intended to broach the subject with Viserys.

The familiar sounds of breathy moans and slapping flesh fill the room as he sits upon the chaise, surveying the wares and nursing his fifth goblet of wine. He is pleasantly relaxed from the drink and the heady scent of fucking, the thrum of arousal warming his veins and pooling in his belly. It is not enough to coax a rise from within his breeches, but the ever-present stimulation is its own form of satisfaction. While his current associate—one of those on the fringes of his usual circle, an eager lad named Desmond or Desward or some such appellation—blathers on, Daemon idly casts his eyes around the room, taking in the abundance of unclothed forms, the roaming of hands and bouncing of breasts, the open-mouthed groaning of the whores as they earn their keep on their knees, against the wall, over the chair.

“… Which one do you like best, my Prince?”

He snaps back to attention at the direct inquiry from his companion. Desmond jerks his chin toward the figures in various stages of undress, cheap jewels glittering under the light of the chandelier.

A much nicer establishment this time around, Daemon muses. He doesn’t voice this aloud, however. “Hm. That one, perhaps.”

He lets his eyes linger on the taller whore, appreciating the dusky glow of her hair as it spirals ink-dark from her crown. She twists her body winningly upon realising he is watching her, biting her lip and tossing her head back to display the elegant line of her neck. She’s not to his tastes, but that is precisely her appeal.

“Thought you would’ve gone with that pale-haired girl there,” Desward says, pointing out the smaller, white-haired waif prancing about with her gown peeled down to her waist, modest tits springing with each lively step.

Daemon swallows. She reminds him of you. No. He doesn’t want to think of you, not after the way you had looked at him. “Explain,” he says coldly.

This man hadn’t been present for those key occasions in which his little entanglement with Rhaenyra had come up. So how has he come to such a conclusion on his own?

Desmond’s expression twists apprehensively. “I just… everyone knows of your taste for silver-haired maidens, milord.”

Everyone does, do they? He’s not surprised to hear the rumours circling of his predilection for maidens, but the distinction here is new. There’d never been enough common stock with Valyrian features in Westeros for such a preference to be made public knowledge; and talk of the misconduct that had gotten him banished had never been all that widespread. The only possible avenue of this latest speculation is…

Fucking Dargood.

Later, he thinks, striding toward the object of his interest. I’ll deal with him later.

His irritation boils his blood just enough to incite a twitch of intrigue from his cock as he casts his eye over her critically. She’s a pleasing enough shape, though the hair is too fine and the mouth too small. Good enough.

“I hope I am to your liking, my Prince,” she murmurs, pushing her shoulders back so that her form is bared a little more easily to his regard.

He grunts, eyeing the finely groomed mound that conceals his eve’s prize, and he cannot help but extend his hand to cup the plumpness of her, to trace a digit through silken petals to toy with the bud at the apex.

Either she’s had a customer already or she’s had her fun before venturing down, he mulls, rubbing the sticky wetness from her soft, swollen entrance between thumb and finger. The give is not the same as it would have been from grease alone. Ah—a whore worthy of the name.

Daemon allows her to grab him by the wrist and lead him through the room, through a darkened corridor and into an empty chamber. ‘Tis one of several, he observes, and quite finely furnished for an establishment of ill-repute. Of course, they are visiting the Street of Silk this time; the standards are far higher than that dilapidated hovel in Flea Bottom.

He pushes the girl away when she makes for the buttons of his jacket.

“I’m not intending to linger, pet,” he says, leading her hand down to the laces of his breeches. She nods, smirking impishly as she works at the fastenings. When they come loose, he presses her back onto the bed, reaching into his pants to withdraw his cock.

“My Prince!” She is already spreading her legs like a little slut, fingers plucking hedonistically at her nipples. He leers at her, fondling the soft warmth of her exposed cunt. She is primed and ready for him, a consummate professional in her art.

He wishes the sight stirred him more.

“Call me ‘Uncle’.” He damns his weakness even as he crawls on top of her and shoves her legs further apart, notching his cock at her entrance.

He’d not had this fucking obsession before you—back when he’d thought himself enamoured with your sister, it had been enough to simply eke out his lusts on the nearest hole available, quick and rough and barely memorable. How you have unmanned him! How pathetic he has become. How woeful it is that he cannot endure something so instinctive, so primordial as mating without the thought of you to help him along.

The girl blinks; smiles. “Uncle! Oh, Uncle,” she breathes, the inflection all wrong, sounding nothing like you.

He plunges harshly into her, the glide hot and wet and too easy. It is nothing like taking your maidenhead would feel like, nothing like the tight resistance of a nervous virgin. He closes his eyes and pounds into the whore below him. This time, it is different; he is in control, he knows he is picturing you and he lets himself, permits the mirage of you to fill his mind’s eye and imagines the way your eyes might widen with mingling trust and hesitation as he breaches you.

“Uncle, my Prince, fuck—”

He slaps a hand over her mouth, irritated by the disruption of his fantasy. You would never say such a thing in the midst of your deflowering, he is sure of it. When the whore’s voice is stifled, pitchy whimpers emanating from under his palm, he can almost convince himself it is you, can almost lose himself in the slip of cunt and glide of skin.

Daemon moans your name again—the game is up and it’s not long before he’s either exiled or given you, so what is the point in pretence—and suckles dark bruises down her throat, imagining it is the pale skin of your beguiling flesh. When he opens his eyes to stare into yours, he is confronted with the dull green of the whore’s below him.

What am I doing? What am I doing? Usually, the shame and aggravation sinks in once the firestorm of ecstasy has burnt itself out. It is just his luck that it strikes mid-coupling now.

“Fuck.” He begins to soften in spite of his hips driving a determined rhythm, desperate to keep the illusion alive just a little longer. It is not to be. “Fuck.”

He pulls out of the whore, sitting back on his haunches. He cannot go through with it. He cannot slink away, bury himself in a whore and pretend as though it’s you, not when he could be trying to win the real thing. He cannot disgrace you by fucking another and wishing it was your face he sees. It would have been preferable had the revelation come sooner—or later. He does not enjoy exposing his weakness before peasant stock.

He sighs—wipes his hand over his eyes—tucks himself back into his breeches, knotting the laces once more.

“My Prince?” she asks, legs splayed and cunt raw and red from his vigorous pace.

He smiles wryly down at her, thumbing three silvers into her hand.

“My apologies, pet,” he says, pulling himself off the bed and heading to the door. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”

When Viserys had summoned him after his night in the brothel so long ago, he’d known immediately what it was about.

Foolish of him, really, to have said what he did. The heir for a day. To be fair, he’d not meant it as mockery of Viserys’s pain or Aemma’s suffering, of Rhaenyra’s grief or your confusion. For all the commons had jibed of his anger and resentment, the Rogue Prince forced down the line of succession by a mere newborn, he had never truly felt umbrage toward his own nephew. How could he? He remembers cradling that boy in his arms, still numb with the shock of his cousin’s death, his brother nowhere to be seen; he remembers those gasping wheezes of his, tiny lips tinged purple with the effort of drawing air into lungs that did not wish to rise. Baelon had passed on in only a few hours, taking with him the Realm’s hope for another heir. Someone other than him.

The King’s vitriol was understandable, if unjustified; in a rare display of restraint, Daemon had allowed the man to rail at him over the perceived slight, all too aware of who had been whispering in his ear. It was clear that Otto Hightower had gleaned the details from one of those nearby on the night of his unfortunate blunder, and had used the information to strip him of his standing.

He should have known better than to trust those he used to surround himself with. He should have learned by now.

Daemon returns to the Keep as the hour of the ghosts sets in, the dim illumination of the torches bracketing the walls casting an eerie reminiscence upon his path. He’s faced Viserys’s wrath one too many times, those occasions blurring together so that he is several iterations of himself simultaneously.

Daemon the soldier. Daemon the drunkard. Daemon the outcast. He walks in the shadow of his former selves.

It is not long before he is confronted by the silent, scowling form of the Lord Commander. He holds his arms up, palms out, a clear signal of surrender.

“I assume my brother wishes to see me?” he asks, only to be provided a brief nod in return.

A man of few words, he notes to himself. ‘Tis welcome to see that some things don’t change.

He is honestly surprised that he isn’t dragged into the Great Hall again—it is already a significant departure from the previous two events that had gotten him exiled. There is less substantiation and more happenstance in these circumstances, he supposes. Well, with the exception of his assault on Tyrell; there is no denying that occurred. But not even Viserys would take a flowery fuck like him at his word, and he is sure to have untruths aplenty to impart.

Instead, he is escorted into the Small Council chamber, where Viserys sits alone at the head of the table, staring pensively at the wood grain. He barely acknowledges Ser Harrold’s pronouncement. Abruptly, he sits up, takes in the view of his brother and his Lord Commander, and clenches his teeth.

“You may leave us, Ser Harrold,” he says, eyes fixed upon Daemon.

He steels himself. This time, he has nothing to be ashamed of—except for his conduct with Tyrell, and maybe the whore, perhaps both… At least this time he isn’t being accused of lechery.

“I had thought you tempered by the years away.” The King’s grip is white-knuckled upon the arm of his seat. “And yet I learn today a most curious thing: the assault of a noble Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and accusations leveraged by that very same Lord against my beloved daughter’s reputation. He claims her to be entangled in an affair with another. Who could have done such a thing, I asked? Who other than Lord Flea Bottom himself—my very own brother?”

Never mind, then. By the end of his oration, his words sound more like the sibilant hiss of a snake than the utterances of a man.

“Brother—”

“You will be silent, wretch!” Viserys snaps, smacking his palm down on the table. His pockmarked face has flushed ugly red, apoplectic with thinly veiled fury. “How could you do this? Ruining Rhaenyra wasn’t enough for you, is that it? You had to go and spoil my second child, my beloved girl, for your own selfish amusement?”

“I have done nothing, Viserys!”

“I am your King!” He pushes himself from his chair by his hand and stalks over to stand before Daemon. He is limping again as he is wont to do these days. “You will address me as ‘Your Grace’!”

“Your Grace.” Daemon bows his head slightly in deference. He cannot afford to anger the man further. “While I’ll confess to the abuse levied upon Lord Tyrell, I cannot admit to something I didn’t do. I haven’t touched her—”

“Oh, you haven’t?” Viserys laughs, but it is a repugnant, mocking sound. His features are firmly arranged into an expression of revulsion. “So Ser Criston’s reports of your—indecent behaviour are falsities, is that correct?”

“Cole?” Daemon asks incredulously. “The man hates me, Viserys. Why the fuck are you listening to him?”

His brother makes a noise of outrage. “Very well. A cruel gleam lingers in his eyes. “And what is this I hear of you—you—cavorting about with whores, encouraging them to playact as my daughter so that you may seek your pleasure?”

Daemon’s stomach sinks. Oh, fuck.

Viserys continues. “Your man from the City Watch—Dargood—had little issue telling the tale. What say you to that?” A great many things, brother; and none of them for your ears. The King sneers. “I have half a mind to cut your cock from you and remedy your wickedness once and for all!”

“What would you have me do? Lie? I’ll admit to fucking whores and pretending they were her. Tell me you’ve never let your desires rule your bedsport!” Daemon lets out a derisive scoff. “But I’ll not stand here and be accused of undue conduct when I’ve been nothing short of chivalrous in your daughter’s company.”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you? Lech!” Viserys leans back against the table. When next he speaks, his voice is heavy with distaste. “Begone from this city, Daemon. You have outstayed your welcome once again.”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“No?”

Incredulity. Daemon supposes it is fair; he’d never resisted exile before.

“No,” he repeats firmly. “Save for the business with Tyrell, I’ve done nothing wrong. You have no grounds to banish me.”

“No grounds? No grounds?” The King’s pitch is rising. “Attention! Flattery! Gifts! It is a game I know well! A game you’ve played with my first child, and now my second!”

“I am not after ruining her reputation, Your Grace,” Daemon insists. His brother huffs and spins away, pacing before him. “I would have her as my wife.”

Viserys pauses.

“Are you in jest?” He looks almost as though he is torn between laughter and tears. “How do you think you’ll go about getting my throne from her? Do you plan on slaying Rhaenyra and her sons to get your crown?”

It is an abhorrent thought. Daemon cannot believe his brother would think so lowly of him. Briefly, he mourns the bond he once had with him, a bond that has frayed and corrupted under the weight of the Seven Kingdoms.

“It’s not about the Iron Throne, Viserys!” He alters his approach, beseeching his brother and urgently pressing his case. “I am the best match for her, and you know it. A Targaryen prince, a warrior, a dragonrider. There is none other who would compare, none other who could give her a just union such as I, least of all that idiot Tyrell—”

“What of Lord Jason Lannister? I would have her wed into Casterly Rock, far away from your grasping ambition!” Viserys’s gaze is considering, now. No longer is he beholden to the blind rage that had gripped him only moments before. “As for your lofty claim… it is Alicent’s wish that I announce the girl’s betrothal to Aegon, who is also a Targaryen prince and a dragonrider. Why should I not heed her instead?”

He's tempted to laugh, but doing so would only incite further ire. No matter the cost, Daemon will not concede to a green boy who seems more satisfied in acting like a child than behaving like a man.

“The boy is awful to her, Your Grace. She dislikes him. And the Lannister cunt? A simpleton. She’d be wasted on a fool like him, and you know it.”

His brother tips his head in acknowledgement and exhales frustratedly, leaning against the Small Council table. Much of the fight has left him.

“You are right… But how can I allow this?” Viserys whispers. He is bowed over the table, slumped and defeated. “How could you do this to her? To me?”

“What have I done?” Daemon draws closer. “I’ve spoken with her, taken walks with her, given her gifts. It is nothing more than that. I doubt she ever saw it as more than an uncle taking interest in his niece, until today. I swear this to you upon anything you wish to name.”

The King chuckles, though it carries no joy. “Such sincerity, Daemon. It is most unlike you.”

“I want her as my wife,” he says again, pleading. “Not for the sake of the throne, or to harm you, or any other reason save this—I want her.”

“I cannot…” is the response, muted and distressed. Viserys glances up at him. “You would destroy her.”

He is upset, resigned, but no longer alight with infuriation. Daemon leans against the table next to his brother.

“I would make her happy. Happier than any other. She could stay in the capital with her family. She could ride that great beast of hers whenever she likes. She could study to her heart’s content, at home where she belongs. Only I can give her all those things, and you know it. I am what she needs.”

Viserys does not reply—only stares at him, something foreign and inscrutable in his visage.

He makes his final bid. “Long have I been your staunchest supporter. Did I not wage a war in the Stepstones in defense of your kingdom? I have never asked for anything in return, except this: long ago, you promised that you’d annul my marriage so that I might find a bride of my own choosing. Years, I asked. Years, you denied me. And now… I am free.”

Daemon’s voice rings out in the stillness, the echo lending gravity to his words. He stares unflinchingly at his brother. “Give the girl to me to wife. You owe me this.”

The King is silent, unmoving. It is clear he has nothing left to say. And thus, Daemon has no reason to remain.

He bows and knocks on the door to be let out of the room. Passing through the walkway of the Small Council chambers as it opens, he leaves the King to his deliberations and hopes that his efforts will pay off.

“For all your degeneracy,” Daemon sneers, “you’re not one to be so loose with secrets.”

The air is chilled with the deep dark of night, the blackness so thick it is almost choking. He doesn’t enjoy the necessity of returning to the scene of his transgressions, but his wayward friend is easy to discover in the depths of the city.

Below him, Dargood pants and splutters, winded after being struck in the gut and dragged from his stool in a cheap, nameless drinking house; Daemon had lugged him rather briskly by the neck to the narrow alleyway beside the tavern, the amber luminosity pooling from the rickety window providing just enough light for him to make out the man’s face.

Dargood coughs. “Times change. A man’s got to do what he must to make coin in this city.”

“City Watch not paying you enough?” Daemon observes him as his eyes begin to droop shut, no doubt a combination of the drink and the knock to the skull as he’d been pulled out the door. He kicks him in the side for good measure, relishing in the yelp emitted when the leather makes contact with vulnerable flesh. “What a shame. Whoever could blame you for selling slanders to the King, then?”

His former ally scrambles to his knees, swaying unsteadily against the stone. “It’s not like that. And ‘slander’ only counts when it’s not true.”

He has a point, Daemon’s mind cannot help but acknowledge.

Dargood babbles on, heedless of the aggravation rising in the figure above him. “I didn’t mention anything outside what I heard and saw—”

“Oh, fuck off!” Daemon clouts him across the temple once more. He collides with the wall with a subdued thump, punctuated by further groaning. “Your father’s a lord. You don’t need the money.”

“Because it’d be so easy for me to beg that man for compassion.” Dargood spits the words out as though they taste foul on his tongue.

Ah, yes—he’d quite forgotten. A lesser son from a lesser House would hardly have recourse to cast himself upon the fires of mercy after amassing a reputation as dissolute as the man’s before him. Whoring, gambling, brawling, and there’d even been some more unsavoury rumours about his involvement in some scheme exploiting the poorest orphans of the city; he’d not cared to ask then, but perhaps he should have. He does not recognise the being before him.

Scum, he realises. He’s scum.

Daemon steps back, assessing the beaten creature that he had once called friend. He sighs. “Go home, Dargood,” he says finally. “Leave this city, or you’ll be made to.”

Before he can turn and walk away, the man lurches to his feet, grappling along the rock behind him to support his unsteady mass. His bloodshot eyes zero in on his target.

“So that’s it, then?” he asks, irate cadence marred by the slur in his speech. “You’ll just throw me aside when you feel like it? After all these years, Prince.”

A brief flicker of displeasure stirs Daemon’s temper. “Yes—your Prince. You sold out your Prince for some fucking coin.”

Come to think of it… Wasn’t he making his little remarks before word reached my brother?

The memory has his hands locked tight around the man’s throat before his mind can become fully cognisant of his actions. “In fact”—his fingers squeeze harder—“you sold out your Prince for status. Didn’t even need the money to spread your tales, did you?”

“Let—let go!” Dargood chokes, making no attempt to release himself from Daemon’s hold. He ought to be capable of such a feat; his training was thorough enough.

Pathetic. He’s not worth the bother.

Daemon loosens his grasp, surveying the vermin that had been his proudest investiture, a shining example of what the City Watch could achieve with discipline and decisiveness as its fundamental tenets. Now, he is no more than rabble, one among thousands of crooks, delinquents and filth polluting his ancestor’s crowning glory.

“Hm. You disappoint me.” With a final glower of disdain, he adds, “Expect a visit from your Lord Commander when day breaks. I think you’ll find your tenure with the Watch is at an end.”

With that, Daemon revolves on his heel and stalks away, far from Flea Bottom, from these havens of vice lining the streets, and from the poison that had fuelled his life in past years. He has no need for such a meaningless existence now. There is something better and brighter to look forward to.

“My Prince! Daemon!”

He ignores Dargood’s supplications even as they grow louder, leaving him behind—where he belongs.

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maybege · 9 months

Text

A Helping Hand

Summary: When one more omega is in the group, the suppressants aren’t enough for everyone and you end up getting your heat for the first time since the outbreak. (Part of The Weight of The World AU)

Pairing: alpha!Boba Fett x fem!omega!Reader

Wordcount: 5.1k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, Zombie Apocalypse AU, A/B/O dynamics (scenting, heats, etc.), yearning, unrequited love (or is it?), a little bit of fluff, explicit sexual content, dry orgasm(?), pet names (princess, good girl, etc.), praise kink

Good morning everyone and happy weekend! I hope the summer is treating you well and that you are looking forward to the second half of this year. 🥰 It has been way too long since I delved into my love for Boba, so if you’re interested in a part two (perhaps he helps Reader out with her heat? 👀), let me know! I really hope that you enjoy this story and would be very very happy if you let me know what you think in a comment or a reblog!

Please note that “Sunshine” is essentially Reader from the Paz version but I had to give her a nickname somehow to make sure she is still part of this.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

When Charlie presented as an omega, everyone in the group knew you were fucked.

There was no better way to say it.

“We don’t have enough suppressants,” Paz said out loud what everybody knew already, “They are harder and harder to come by and the last pharmacy didn’t have any. Chants is already on half a dosage, I am not sure how we can stretch them more.”

“What’s that? Suppressants?”

Din turned to the little boy that had snuck his way into the conversation. “Something for grownups, buddy, c’mon let us talk in peace.”

You smiled when Grogu shrugged, completely unbothered, and returned to where he had been playing with Pan and Jarno.

Sometimes you envied the kids in your group for the semblance of innocence they could still afford to have. And then you felt bad because this was not the childhood you wanted for them. Stars, you knew about babies being born and the thought that this was the only kind of life they would ever get to know made your stomach hurt and your heart ache.

Yet, they did not have to deal with problems like you were now. The adults of the group had come together, standing together and saying nothing but muddling over the same thing. Deep down, you knew that there was only one solution and you were pretty sure that almost everyone had come to that conclusion.

Almost.

“Maybe I don’t need suppressants,” Charlie piped up, shifting nervously next to his mother, Bernie, “I could pass my heat just like that.”

“No, you can’t,” Briggs said flatly, the old man crossing his arms in front of his chest. He had not been here the longest, only joining the group a few months ago when Paz had found him and Sunshine fighting off a horde of zombies. But despite his recent status in the group, he had risen in rank quickly, his advice and opinion honoured by those you had chosen as unofficial leaders.

One of these leaders was Boba who was standing right across from you. Like Briggs, he had crossed his arms in front of his chest, his biceps bulging and you swallowed, trying to keep your staring as subtle as possible.

With the late summer now cooling down, he had started to wear flannel again and you were a little embarrassed to admit that fall had not only become your favourite season because of the harvests you could make but also because you got to see the alpha stroll around with rolled up sleeves.

Trying your best not to look too long at him, you glanced back at Charlie.

“But what if I –“

“Charlie, dear,” Moira piped up, her voice gentle and kind. It was the same voice she had used to comfort Bernie this morning after she had made the discovery that her son’s scent was not as beta-like as she had hoped. “Briggs is right,” the older woman explained, “You will need your suppressants more than anyone else in this group.”

More than you.

You swallowed heavily, trying to get enough oxygen into your lungs to fool your heart into believing that you were not about to have a full-blown panic attack.

Charlie’s light eyes met yours and you knew him well enough to know that he was feeling the same way.

“Come on, Charlie,” you heard yourself say, stepping forward, “Let’s go for a walk.”

Everyone else let you pass without a word of protest and Paz nodded at you in approval. Bernie looked like she had about a thousand different things on her mind and you could not blame her. The outbreak was the least ideal place to be an omega – much less discover being an omega. And to see that your child had to be an omega in this cruel world? You could not imagine the pain she was going through.

The tree line was only a few steps away from where you had stood, the clearing only barely big enough for you to set up camp, and so it only took a few more steps until the thick trunks provided you with some privacy. With the summer nearing its end, the leaves filtered the sunlight a light gold and you took a moment to appreciate the pure beauty and peace of it.

In the last few years, there had not been enough moments like this.

You watched as Charlie started to pace from tree to tree, bouncing off them like the DVD logo on the sides of the screen. There were a lot of things you wanted to say, a lot of things you wanted to assure him of. But you also knew that he was not prone to listening right now and you could not blame him.

“I don’t want to take your suppressants away from you,” the boy started, tears of anger running down his cheeks, “I – I don’t want to be an omega and I don’t want to have heats and I don’t want everyone to look at me like I am a fucking failure!”

His voice got louder and louder and in peak teenage fashion, he kicked his foot over the ground, sending a bunch of leaves up in the air and sailing down to the mossy floor.

Your brows rose in surprise.

“They are not my suppressants,” you corrected him gently, “They are for those in the group that need it most. And that is you.”

Charlie huffed, still not looking at you.

“It’s okay to be scared,” you said, “And it’s okay that you are unhappy with your presentation. Stars knew I always wanted to be a beta. But,” you stepped closer to him, “We don’t always get to choose what happens. And while it speaks to your character that you don’t want to put me in an uncomfortable situation, Briggs is right. Everyone is. You don’t know what a heat is like, especially your first one. It is too dangerous. At least I had mine already, I know what it is like.”

“That was years ago,” he protested, “Before the outbreak.”

“Yes, but it is still more experience than you have,” you added.

That seemed to get him thinking but he still did not look very happy. Deep down you knew it was not your fault that he was feeling this way or your responsibility to make him feel better. But you remembered how terrified you had been when you had your first heat and how terrified he must feel now.

“Look,” you took a deep breath, “We always knew that there would come a point where we have to choose who gets the suppressants. We were just lucky until now. Lucky that Chants has an implant and that Moira doesn’t get her heats anymore. And we got especially lucky when Sunshine mated with Paz before she could need them,” you said glancing over at where the giant man was gazing at his omega like she hung the stars in the sky.

The gaps in the trees afforded you the perfect view of the camp and when you saw the couple, so very in love with each other, something tugged at your heartstrings. You had never been interested in Paz that way but something you stung when you saw the way he looked at his mate. You wanted someone to look at you the way he looked at her.

You wanted someone to love you.

Charlie’s shaky breath snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Anyway,” you sighed, putting your hand on his shoulders, “If you are feeling like you take the suppressants from me – you are not. I know what I am getting into.”

“I always thought I was going to be a beta,” the boy finally said, revealing the true reason for his upset, “Like mom … and like dad.”

Your heart ached.

“You’re not less like your parents just because your presentation is different,” you assured him, “You will always be their son.”

“I know but … I feel like I disappointed her,” his shoulders slumped, his head “Mom, I mean.”

“Oh honey,” you pulled him in for a hug, “She is not disappointed. She is just worried about you.”

He wrapped his arms around you and you pretended not to notice the way his body was shaking or how his hot tears soaked your shirt.

Minutes passed like this and you could see the birds flying in the crowns of the trees, the leaves and canopy shaking and throwing intricate patterns on the forest floor. You wished you could stay here forever, in this little, safe corner of the world that seemed so far away from everything that wanted to kill you.

But you knew you never stayed in a place too long and it would be time again soon to move somewhere else.

“Thank you for that,” Charlie mumbled and pulled away from you, “Can – Can I be alone for a bit?”

“Sure thing, kid,” you smiled, “Don’t stay too long or else Briggs will send a search party out.”

He nodded and you smiled before making your way back to the camp. The leaves crunched under your shoes and you spotted a little squirrel rushing its way up a tree.

Your head was spinning as you approached the group, the reality of the situation really sinking in. Then again, it really should not be a problem at all. There was no reason to be nervous. After all, you were in a somewhat protected environment and you were an adult. You should be able to face a heat alone. Right?

Everyone was busy doing something (your heart warmed at the sight of Grogu, Pan and Jarno listening completely enraptured to Moira and Briggs retelling a Shakespeare play) but you could not find it in yourself to join anyone.

“All good?” Chants asked you, looking up from where he was working on one of the cars with Din.

You nodded, “All good.”

There was no reason to tell him that you felt like your heart was about to explode from fear or that you could feel your palms get sweaty at the thought of stopping to take the pills immediately.

That night, the entire group sat by the fire, seeming like the issue from this morning was long forgotten. Briggs, Paz and Din were bowed over a map they had placed on the hood of Altarf’s truck, probably planning the safest route to take when it was time to change camps.

Altarf and Sluice had been on dinner duty today and the stew they made still sat warm in your belly. The night air had cooled down significantly so you had remained at your place by the fire, amicably chatting with Sunshine and Bernie. You could see Grogu and the kids playing in the dirt by some of the cars.

Chants and Moira were off collecting the hanging laundry of the day and you already looked forward to wearing some freshly washed clothes.

How lucky you were that even years later you could all go to bed with a full stomach and the knowledge that you would wake up in the morning. Somewhat safe, somewhat sheltered, and surrounded by people who had become family.

“Wisconsin would take us right by Minneapolis,” Paz said, drawing a line with his finger. You smirked when you noticed how Sunshine immediately zoned out of the conversation, all her attention on her alpha.

“We are definitely not heading to Washington,” Din protested, “Heard that corner is a powder keg waiting to explode.”

“North, then?” Briggs asked, “If the tracks we found are anything to go by we would need to get a few days’ distance between us and here.”

Hearing them talk about moving camp made you anxious. When would your heat strike? Would you be so unlucky to have it while you were on the move? You had been on suppressant for so long that you hardly remembered what it felt like to go into heat. Would you really survive several hours in a car with your mind occupied with being fucked seven ways to Sunday?

“You okay?”

You flinched, looking up at the alpha that had just joined you.

“Boba,” you chided the man who gave you the hint of a smile.

He sat down next to you, the fire illuminating his features and you allowed yourself to look at him a little longer than usual.

Boba Fett was … He was …

Boba Fett was the kind of man you had dreamt about before the outbreak. And, to be honest, after the outbreak. The way he held himself so full of confidence and competence had always attracted you and you found that with each day that passed, you had another little thing you loved liked about him.

One day, it had been the way the crow’s feet on his eyes showed when he laughed. It was a rare sight but that made it all the more special, seeing him joke around with Din or Paz or one of the kids.

Another day, it had been exactly that: the way he was with the kids. At first, you had expected him to be a grumpy loner but there was a kindness there when he taught them about the dangers of weapons and made sure to show them to properly handle one if they ever came across a rifle.

Then there had been his hands. Stars, his hands. Thick long fingers and palms weathered from work. You knew he hadn’t been a mechanic like Din but that he had helped him out and he still did now, fixing cars and engines right and left in that week when all of your vehicles had started making problems, threatening to get you stuck in Northern Arizona.

That was another thing: his competence. It made you weak in the knees and your panties wet to see him be so knowledgeable about so many things. Sure, it started when you had seen him, hands greasy and white tank top stained, fix one of the trucks like it was nothing. But it had continued when he had disassembled and cleaned his guns and put them back together again like it was no big deal. Or that one night where you had crossed a group and had spent dinner together and one of them had a guitar. You remembered it like it was yesterday, the surprise on (almost) everyone’s faces when Boba had asked for the guitar and played a few songs for the group.

Another day it had been his jaw and the stubble that grew when he went a few days without shaving. You wondered what it would feel like on your neck or between your thighs and you woke up more than one morning, vivid dream memories in your minds of how he had scented you with a stubble jaw like that.

Yes, Boba Fett was the alpha that made your voice stutter, your heart race and your pussy feel so very empty. Only that you were too shy to ever do anything about it. With Paz and his mate, it had been obvious to everyone (except for them) that they were meant for one another and it had taken barely any time for them to figure it out, too.

But you and Boba … You had been part of this group almost for the entirety after the outbreak. If anything were to happen, it would have happened by now. You were sure of it.

Realizing that you had stared at him for a little too long, you cleared your throat and looked at the glowing ambers of the fire.

“You okay, Princess?” he asked you quietly, “You’ve been quiet today.”

“Oh, you know,” you shrugged, trying to ignore how that made your cheeks feel suspiciously hot, “Just thinking.”

“You’re worried about the suppressants, aren’t you?”

You did not say anything which, apparently, was confirmation enough.

“We won’t let anything happen to you,” he stated, calm and confident and it was so easy to just believe him when he continued, “You’ll be the safest you can ever be, omega. It will be over before you know it and then we can see if we can some more suppressants up in Wisconsin.”

“Charlie’ll need them,” you said, your hands fidgeting, “I won’t get suppressants any time soon, Boba, we both know it.”

When you turned your head to look at him, you were met with brown eyes gazing at you so intimately, it made you want to crawl right into his arms. It made you want to curl up in his lap, tuck your face into the crook of his neck and just breathe him in until everything was right again in the world.

He opened his mouth, ready to say something and you saw his hand twitch like he was about to reach out to you.

“Now now, what are we whisperin’ about?” Moira laughed, sitting down on your other side. Sluice and Chants were with her and you watched as Sunshine walked over to Paz, being greeted with a grin and a soft kiss.

“Nothing of importance,” Boba replied, still looking only at you but straightening up. Only now did you notice how close he had been, how his knee had brushed against yours, and now with him standing up, how it left you cold and alone. “I think I’ll head over to Din … get the details of the route we’re taking.”

You wanted to ask him to stay with you a little longer but your shyness made the words dry on your tongue and you watched him leave.

“Hey there, princess,” Sluice grinned, sidling up to you. You knew she was just teasing you. It was the running joke in the group that Boba kept calling you princess like it meant something.

Of course, it didn’t.

(But stars knew you really wanted it to.)

It took four days for you to notice that something was wrong.

There even was a moment where you had had the slightest hope that maybe you wouldn’t get your heat. That you had taken the suppressant for so long that your body has just decided to skip them altogether and make your life that much easier.

But of course, it didn’t.

It started with you feeling more restless than usual. Whereas the kids’ shenanigans previously amused you, they now surprised you. Even more so when they would jump from behind trees but fake scare you only for it to end up really scaring you. They laughed at first at your surprised squeal and the little jump backwards you made, good-natured as kids were, but by the fourth time it happened, a stern Boba rushed over, his hand on your back, and telling them off on how it was mean to keep scaring you like that.

Then your temperature rose. Only at night at first. Despite the evening cooling down and Chants getting, you kicked off your blanket more and more, wishing you could just take off all your clothes and bathe in a cool stream. Then it happened when people touched you. Altarf brushed your hand once when giving you a few dishes and it felt like your skin was on fire, making you flinch. The same happened with Paz, the big man frowning with concern when you jumped away from him when his hand landed on your shoulder.

(It didn’t happen with Boba. Or at least it didn’t happen like that with Boba. Boba’s touch caused a warm fire in your belly that spread outwards until your entire skin was gently tingling with the need to be touched by him. Which was perfectly normal, you tried to tell yourself.)

You flinched away not only from but from everyone who had not approached you loud enough or anyone who touched you. No, your clothes started to feel scratchy, ill-fitting and just way too thick. Sluice started to tease you about how you were always fiddling with the collar of your shirt, trying to get the cool late summer air onto your body.

Not to mention the smells.

Stars, the smells.

You had never really bothered with how the others smelled. Sure, you had been faintly aware of how Paz’s scent had changed when Sunshine had first joined and how they both had become more prominent. Or how Charlie, now having his own presentation, had gotten his own scent. Or how musky and woodsy and comfortable Boba smelled. But that was nothing compared to the stench they now all emitted – except for Boba.

It was like you could no longer stand being around them. The only people you tolerated were the kids and Bernie. But the person you sought out the most was Boba because he smelled divine.

If he noticed it, he did not show it but the important part was that you noticed. And you knew you didn’t have long until things would get serious for you.

Only that you had not expected it to get serious so soon.

The night was dark and quiet when you had snuck out of the truck. You tried to tell yourself it was because you could not sleep but deep down you knew it was because you were way too hot and even Chants – Chants! – started to reek so bad you could no longer spend even a minute in that truck with him.

You knew it wasn’t his fault. If anyone’s, it was yours. But so, you snuck out, into the cool night air that made your skin feel normal again and that was free of any stench because everyone was fast asleep in their cars. If you focused enough you could even hear Altarf’s snoring.

Being outside helped, you found, but as quickly as your body cooled down from the heat wave, just as quickly did it reach a temperature that had you shivering. Debating if you wanted to risk getting back to the truck to get you something warmer or if you could –

Your thoughts were interrupted by pain so bad it made you double over.

A split second of confusion gave way to the realization that you were starting your heat.

The muscles in your abdomen cramped up again and you gasped, falling to all fours as you tried to gather the strength to press your palm against your belly. The touch helped minder the pain a little but it also made you aware of how you were yearning to be touched.

You wanted to feel hands on you – in your – and your pussy to be filled and someone to sink his teeth into your neck and mark you his.

Who were you kidding you didn’t want someone, you wanted Boba.

Tears of frustration and fear stung in your eyes and you tried to even your breathing.

This was okay. Everything was okay. It was not the first time you had your heat and it would not be the last time and hell, if you had gotten through it before, you would get through it again. Didn’t matter if it felt like your body was burning up from the inside and the only thought that made it better (and then much worse) was that of an unattainable alpha claiming you.

“Shit,” you cursed, furiously wiping at your cheeks, “Shit shit shit shit!”

Someone’s shoes appeared in your field of vision.

It was none other than Boba.

A breeze rustled the trees and his scent filled your nose, sending a wave of calm through your body. Closing your eyes was involuntary but you did not mind because your body felt so much lighter now. It was like a weight had been lifted off your chest and you could breathe.

He smelled even better than before, the scent of pine wood and something you could not yet pinpoint driving you crazy. You could feel your temperature rising a few degrees and suddenly it all came rushing back to you. The frustration, the fear, the panic, the desire.

“You okay?” Boba asked, sounding very concerned.

You could not help the way your bottom lip trembled as you allowed yourself to admit that –

“No,” you breathed out, “I’m terrified, alpha.”

He sank down to his knees in front of you. Your eyes immediately fell to his crotch and you were ashamed to admit that the first thought you had was to reach out and undo his zipper, to try and see what he

Thick arms wrapped around you and pulled you out of your thoughts and into his chest. His body exuded warmth that yours had been missing and you relaxed into him. His hands were on the back of your neck and your lower back and his touch caused pure warmth in you. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, just like you had dreamt of, and breathed in his scent.

In a movement so small, you barely registered it, his nose brushed over your neck and you gasped softly.

“I know,” he said, his lips moving against your skin, “I know, princess, I can smell how scared you are.”

“What if I fuck it up?” you gasped into him, trying to hold the tears at bay. Your hands grasped at the back of his flannel, the fabric not feeling as repulsive as your own clothes, “What if – what if Chant can’t sleep because of me and we get attacked and he cannot defend himself and – and what if it is all my fault?”

A sob wrecked your body and you huddled closer to him.

For the longest moment, Boba did not say anything, merely holding you to him as you tried to gather yourself. Having him so close, with his hands on your body and your nose pressed against his neck, made it that much easier to calm down. You felt safe with him.

“You will sleep in my truck,” he stated, then, “I can bunk with Chants.”

“But – but –“

“Omega,” he interrupted you warmly and your mouth snapped shut, your brain short-circuiting at him calling you that, “You will have your heat, there is no question about it. You need rest and a safe place to nest and soft things. My truck has that and all the privacy you could desire.”

“Okay,” you nodded, swallowing back the tears that threatened to form in your eyes (again), “Thank you, alpha.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remembered that calling someone by their presentation was something intimate, something special. But it felt right, calling Boba that. Because if anyone was your alpha, it would be him. You could not imagine anyone else having the effect on you that he did. And you did not want anyone, except for him, to have that power.

His nose brushed over your scent gland again, this time right behind your ear, properly scenting you.

“Oh,” you whimpered, feeling a trickle of arousal gather in your panties. You clenched your thighs, he

Boba growled, his chest rumbling against yours, “Fuck, I’m sorry, omega, I shouldn’t have –“

He pulled away, ever so slightly, his hand cupping the side of your neck and the trickle became a wave when his rough fingertips brushed over the sensitive spot.

“No!” you protested quickly, a little too loudly, maybe, but you did not care if it meant you could have him scent you again, “Please … I – one more?”

The alpha in front of you froze and your eyes fluttered closed when his fingertips continued to caress your neck.

“You want me to scent you?” he asked and you were too far gone to notice if he sounded surprised. But what you did notice was how his thumb rubbed gentle circles onto your neck, how his eyes seemed a little darker in the light of the moon and how his scent seemed to get just a little bit stronger.

Shyly, you nodded, deciding to throw all caution into the wind. “Yes please, alpha.”

There was that rumble in his chest again, the one that made your pussy pulse and your thighs clench. But you could not even pretend not to be affected by his ministrations. Not when his nose, making your body break out in the best kind of shivers.

“That okay?” he asked against your neck and the fact that his lips were touching your skin now, the hint of his tongue peeking out again the patch of skin, made you almost feel blind with lust. “That feel good, princess?”

“Uh huh,” you brought out, tilting your head back so he had better access.

“Sweet little omega,” his lips grazed your ear before he moved his mouth back to where you needed it most, “Good little omega.”

His hand moved back to the back of your head, holding you against him and keeping you this and that way so he had the best angle to lavish your neck with attention. You allowed him to manoeuvre you as he needed, knowing instinctually that you would be rewarded in the best way.

And oh stars were you right about that.

“Smell so fucking good,” he grunted, his hips snapping against yours, “Bet you taste even better”.”

You did not know what made you come. His filthy words, the idea of his mouth, the feeling of his teeth on your skin, threatening to mark you or the outline of his hard cock against your flimsy sleep shorts, pressing right into your clit.

Maybe it was a combination of all of those things that had you stifling your moan against his neck and your vision going white. That had your pussy pulsing and clenching around nothing and your folds getting even wetter with your release.

You knew the first orgasm of a heat was the hardest to achieve. Which made it all the more surprising that it had been so easy with Boba. You were so stunned that you did not even have it in you to feel the slightest bit of shame at how needy you were. How you had just come undone in front of him like it was always meant to be.

“Good girl,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss behind your ear before gently untangling himself from you, “Feel better now?”

You nodded quietly, still reeling from what had happened but also feeling drunk on his pheromones.

“C’mon,” he murmured, his hands helping you stand up onto shaking legs, “Let’s get you into bed, sweet thing, wouldn’t want to keep you from your nest for too long.”

You could only hope that he would join you.

#maybege writes #boba fett x reader #boba fett x fem!reader #smut #apocalypse!boba vibes

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aheathen-conceivably · 10 months

Text

Back at the cottage, the sound of playing children and laughter could be heard from nearly every room of the house. Summer and Isaiah’s children were just as rambunctious as Zelda expected, roping Violette into all of their games and lifting the remaining melancholia from the air.

Even Wally, who would usually rather read alone than engage in such joviality, found the energy infectious; so he stayed amidst the noise rather than seek out the studious quiet that he and Virginia were used to in their own home.

The sounds echoed up the stairs into the small second story hallway, where Virginia and Zelda were standing outside of Rosella’s old room. They were both staring at the door as though it sheltered a trove of terrifying secrets, silently daring the other to be the first to open it.

Zelda went forward, her hand on the knob before Virginia could say a word. She turned the handle and eased open the door, letting out the smell of dust collecting in the sunshine.

They stopped in the doorway, marveling at the accumulation of toys and memorabilia, before Zelda pushed the door open wider and walked into the center of the room, “Goodness, Virginia. Have Mother and Isaiah been using it for storage all these years? With brother’s growing family you do think they would have need of it, perhaps transformed it into something more useful.”

Zelda’s question snapped Virginia back to reality and she followed her sister into the room. Her characteristically sharp countenance returned to her face as though the fear had never been there, “I see the new world has made you a bit bolder hasn’t it, sister? We can’t all be so comfortable around things that continue to pain us.”

She turned away before Zelda could respond, searching the room for what she had come for, “Hell, where is it? So many trinkets amongst so few people. I could have sworn they told me it was up here somewhere…”

“Ah-ha! Here it is,” Virginia bent down, moving books and toys out of her way, “I wouldn’t think that you had heard, but a few years ago Harrington Estate fell on hard times….”

Virginia paused momentarily to allow herself a triumphant, gloating smile, “Modernity finally caught up with the old ways, I suppose. Lord Harrington had to break up the whole thing and sell it off piece by piece. During the process he sent a servant down here with this package...”

Without an ounce of the fanfare that the moment called for, Virginia pulled a bright, gilded frame from behind the dresser and propped it up on a trunk, “He said they found this in one of the rooms, thought we might like to have it after what happened.”

The very gravity of the room seemed to shift, recentering itself on the pair of bright green eyes looking off into the distance longingly. Throughout the last seventeen years Zelda had only seen Rosella in a handful of family photos; but none of them compared to this: her sister lovingly painted in a fine formal gown, her curls flowing over her shoulders and rubies draped around her neck.

The painting was rendered in exacting, lifelike colors that Zelda could hardly recall looking at the sepia photographs of their youth, giving the illusion that Rosella was once again back in her room with her sisters, telling them stories of her life at the manor.

Zelda stared forward, unbelieving, “Virginia, I don’t…I don’t understand. What was this doing there? For god’s sake who would have painted it? And how utterly strange that her hair is down; she never would wear it down, even at home. You must remember that, don’t you?”

Virginia didn’t take her eyes off the painting, perhaps so that her own expression wouldn’t give away what she knew of the Harringtons. In answer she kept her gaze averted and shrugged her shoulders, “Whatever it may be, I thought you might like to have it. Perhaps you’re the only one left who can really still look at it and feel joy.”

Zelda eyes shined, “You’re right, sister. And it gives me another idea.”

(My immense and immeasurable thanks to the amazing @scythesms for this lovely painting. Without you this scene would be nothing more than an idea and I appreciate you greatly ❤️)

#1929 #sims 4 historical #ts4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 decades challenge #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #the darlingtons #1920s #virginia darlington #isaiah darlington #summer darlington #annabelle darlington #zelda darlington #violette darlington

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thenerdykneazle · 6 months

Text

Dear Diary

Summary: You stumble across Garreth's rather scandalizing diary while waiting for him to meet up with you.

Garreth Weasley x Gryffindor F!MC

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, 7th year, aged-up characters

Word count: 2263

You sat on the edge of the fourposter bed. The maroon curtains were tied back, leaving it open. You looked around the room. It resembled your own, having the same beds with the exception that these were numbered. Garreth also had one more roommate than you did, though the room was smaller than yours. The five beds were packed into the small room at the top of Gryffindor tower. It also lacked the sitting area yours had, though a similar enchanted mirror stood near the door. The room was cleaner than you had ever seen it, too, as most of its residents were away for the holidays. The sole exception was Garreth. He had retuned just after Christmas to spend time with his aunt. As such, his desk was as strewn with papers as ever. It was filled with books, a few for his actual classes but most were various extracurricular tomes on potions and herbology. A portrait of the last Gryffindor captain to win the quidditch cup was hung above it.

Currently, you were waiting for Garreth to return from getting lunch with his aunt. You flopped back, lying sideways across the bed as you stared at the ceiling in boredom. You yawned as you stretched your limbs as far as you could reach them. Perhaps you would sneak in a nap while you waited. The break had been wonderfully peaceful – a stark contrast to your usually hectic schedule. Not a single soul had come to you in crisis, which meant you had been using a lot of time to catch up on much-needed sleep.

However, you decided against the nap since Garreth was set to return shortly. You got up and sat at his desk, looking through the pages of notes on his newest experiment. While you refused to be his guineapig, the concoctions did intrigue you. You drummed your fingers on the desk absentmindedly, tapping to the tune of one of the numerous Chudley Cannons cheers Garreth had taught you over the summer. Suddenly, a drawer you had never noticed in the desk slid open.

“And who are you?” you said as you plucked the lone book out of the drawer before sliding it shut.

You flicked it open, and your eyes scanned the black scrawl on the pages. A diary! You glanced at the door before returning your gaze to the book. Your heart rate accelerated with excitement. You knew you should put it back. Clearly these were private thoughts, hidden away behind a charm. Although, it wasn’t your fault the book practically thrust itself into your lap. You were flipping through the pages as you dialogued with yourself on the morality of perusing something so personal to your friend.

You held the book in both hands as you read the most recent entry. It was a sweet musing about Garreth’s excitement for break. He talked about missing his family and looking forward to quality time with his aunt. He also wrote a bit about the potion he hoped to perfect over break, a fizzing beverage that makes the drinker burp bubbles. You smiled as you read the words. You worked your way backwards, reading through complaints about classes and teachers, especially Professor Sharp. Though, despite his frustrations with him, he clearly had admiration for the man, as well.

An entry from two weeks prior gave you pause.

I had the best dream last night. It was about her, of course. In it, we spent the day in Hogsmeade, browsing Honeydukes and Zonko’s, before spending the night drinking at the Three Broomsticks. We stayed in the private room above the tavern, and she was all over me, kissing my neck and grabbing my hair. I got her knickers off, and she was so wet for me. I swear I could feel her slick now. It was so vivid.

Before I knew it, we were naked on the bed. She was under me as I slid into her. She moaned my name as I thrust sharply into her over and over. She mewled and pleaded for more, and I gave it to her. Merlin, I loved the way her voice cracked as she came, calling my name again. I was surprised I hadn’t actually spilled my seed when I woke up. What I wouldn’t give to hear her moaning my name in the waking world. I do so love the sound of it on her lips in her innocent greetings. Oh, how deliciously it would echo in my ears as she fell apart. Gods, I hope the memories of this dream never fade.

Wide-eyed, you looked around the room again, ensuring you were still alone. The sordid words shocked you. You would never have expected such vulgarity from the genial boy. Well, he wasn’t a boy anymore, you supposed. Well into your seventh year, you had both matured over the last two years. For Garreth, that meant filling out considerably. His broad shoulders and muscular arms served him well on the quidditch pitch. His strong forearms exposed from perpetually rolled-up sleeves were rather distracting in class. So was the way he loosened his tie in potions as the steaming cauldrons heated the room.

It was a small mercy that the woman in his dream went unnamed. It would be too much to know who had stolen the affections of the boy you cared for so ardently. Though, that didn’t stop you from rifling through the diary to try to find it out, against your better judgment. You found several other recountings of his wet dreams. He wrote of dreaming about her riding him and “watching her impale herself on [his] prick.” He wrote of another dream where he bent her over one of the potions stations and pounded into her from behind. An entry on a dream about eating her out in the astronomy tower after meeting her to fill out star charts brought a particularly strong blush to your cheeks. Yet not once did he mention her name.

You had made it all the way back to entries from the beginning of sixth year. It was there that you found the entry that sealed your fate.

She was driving me mad today. I swear she does it on purpose, leaning over tables so that her arse sticks out, begging to be grasped, and biting her lip to draw my eye to it. Even the lightest touch on my arm or brush of her fingers on my hand sets my skin ablaze. Gods, I’m desperate to tell her how I feel. I need to know if she feels the same. Yet, I cannot. We’ve become such good friends, and I couldn’t bear to make her uncomfortable if she doesn’t feel the same. Besides, she and Aunt Matilda are so close. I know my aunt loves me, but she is certain I would lead her into trouble. Aunt Matilda told me as much herself when she first arrived last year. Can’t imagine why she thinks so, though. I’m sure my aunt already warned her against me, and, even if she would give me a chance despite it, Aunt Matilda would never approve.

You almost missed it. The key phrase that made everything click into place: when she first arrived last year. He was talking about you. Fantasizing about you. Your skin tingled as a thrill ran up your spine. You were desperate to read more, but the sound of someone ascending the steps had you snapping the book shut. You tried to pull the drawer open, but it didn’t budge. You shoved the diary between random tomes on one of the desk’s shelves just before the door swung open. You were trembling with adrenaline.

“Good afternoon! Sorry I’m late. Aunt Matilda was extra chatty today,” he said brightly.

“Hi! No need to apologize, Garreth,” you replied as naturally as you could while feeling breathless and like your heart was about to beat out of your throat.

You saw his smile brighten a bit at the use of his name, and you couldn’t help the smirk that played on your lips. “Ready to ring in the new year?” he asked.

It was December 31st, and you two had plans to attend a party in Hogsmeade.

“Actually, Garreth, I was thinking we could hang out here for a while,” you said. You were eager to experiment with the knowledge you had gained. “I don’t want to start partying too early.”

Garreth sat on the side of his bed, facing you. His knee was mere inches from yours. “Okay. What would you like to do? We could bundle up and play summoner’s court, or we could nick some hot cocoa from the kitchens and hang out in the common room by the fire.”

As you looked in his emerald eyes, it was like you had never really seen them. You had always averted your gaze so quickly, afraid he’d see into your soul and reveal the feelings you worked so hard to keep hidden. Now as you gazed into them, you could see the adoration with which he looked at you. “I figured we could just stay up here for a while, Garreth,” you said. You wanted privacy.

He tilted his head as he smiled at you. “Why do you keep saying my name?” he asked, bemused.

You shrugged. “It’s a nice name. Very strong. Masculine,” you said. “Don’t you think, Garreth?”

A blush crept onto his freckled cheeks. “I guess so,” he said sheepishly.

You chucked. “I can stop if you’d rather, though,” you said seriously.

“No,” he blurted out far too quickly. “I mean…you don’t have to.”

The corners of your mouth ticked up again. “Good,” you said. “Because I like saying your name, Garreth.” You let your knee bump against his.

Garreth’s heart was racing. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew that he liked it, whatever it was.

You let your fingers rest on his forearm. “Do you like it?” you asked.

His gaze shifted from your hand to your eyes. He looked at you with a furrowed brow. “What?”

You gave him your most innocent expression. “Do you like it? When I say your name?”

He stared at you, wide-eyed and lips parted. Was he dreaming? He felt like he was awake, but surely you would only say such things in his dreams. He just nodded, unable to find any words.

Your smirk grew. You were loving the effect you were having on the ginger lad. “What about watching me impale myself on your prick? Would you like that?”

Garreth may well have been part mooncalf with how wide his eyes were now. He had reread his own words enough times to recognize them immediately. His eyes flicked to his desk, searching for the familiar cover. He spotted it quickly on the shelf – very much not where he had left it. “I can explain,” he said in a panicked tone.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the corners turned down. “Seemed pretty self-explanatory to me,” you mused.

“Where was–I mean, how did you–?” he stammered to his shoes.

“I was just tapping on your desk as I read through some notes, and the drawer popped open,” you said.

He shook his head in disbelief at his bad luck. “I’m so sorry you had to read that,” he said, his gaze still downcast.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at your frantic friend. “Garreth, look at me,” you said.

He winced as his eyes flitted up to your face. He was surprised by what he saw. He expected you to be scowling, maybe borderline murderous. Instead, he found an amused, slightly arrogant smile. Your eyes scanned his face, lingering on his lips. You trapped your own lip between your teeth as you stared at him with unmistakable lust.

Your eyes met his as you spoke. “I’m not sorry at all that I read it. In fact, I was hoping to read more before I heard you coming.”

He could feel the desire burning in his stomach immediately. He repeated your words in his mind several times, checking if there was any possibility that he could be misinterpreting them. Once he was certain he understood you correctly, he was leaning over you, his hands resting on the edges of your chair. His face hovered a few treacherous inches from yours as he looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Why don’t I show you instead, love?” he asked.

You grabbed his tie and pulled him down so his lips met yours. You tangled a hand in his ginger curls, and his hands slid up your thighs as he kissed you back fiercely. He ran his tongue along your lower lip, entreating you for entry. Your lips parted, and his tongue slid along your own, exploring your mouth. Garreth pulled back beaming at you. You were both panting for air.

“So, I’ll take that as a ‘yes’?” he teased.

You bit your lip again as you nodded. “I’m quite curious about your dream in the astronomy tower,” you said as you gazed into his verdant eyes.

He gave you a devilish smile before hoisting you straight up from the chair. You let out a surprised squeal before giggling. He was careful not to hit your head as he laid you on his bed. His tongue darted out across his lips as he looked down at you like a starved chimera at a rabbit. His eyes glinted with desire. “I’ve been rather curious about it myself.”

#garreth weasley #hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley x mc #garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #garreth weasley fanfic #garreth weasley fanfiction

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reallyromealone · 2 years

Text

Happy 100 @jkloserdazai !

Sebastian from black butler x male reader uwu

Thankfully I know a lot about the Victorian era

Something Sebastian looked forward to was the visit of (name), Ciel's violin teacher.

He never met such a human like him, someone somehow untainted by the harshness of the world.

"Hello Mr.Sebastian, how are you fairing?" (Name) asked kindly as he was led to Ciel's Drawing room where the classes were always held "those kittens were born this morning if you ever wish to visit and see them"

"Perhaps I shall" Sebastian said with a soft smile as he leaned down to the violinist so their faces were almost touching "I will await your letter then Mr. Sebastian " he said gently before allowing Sebastian to inform Ciel of his presence.

"Hello my Lord, are you ready for today's lesson" (name) said with a slight bow to the Earl who nodded and the lesson began.

"You are improving a bit my lord, I have nothing but high hopes you will excel!"

Sebastian escorted (name) to his carriage"I hope to see you soon Mr. Sebastian" (name) said looking into Sebastians deep plum eyes as the demon said nothing but based on the expression (name) knew he would see him soon.

It was a warm summer day when (name) heard a knock on his door, his music shop closed today and he was spending his time with the tiny kittens as their mama and (name)s cat took a rest away from her scrappy little Tykes.

"Mr. Sebastian? What a pleasant surprise!" (Name) said letting the demon in and Sebastian looked at (name) dressed in more casual clothes, not much different from his usual attire but no coat "let me start the kettle! I picked up some treats this morning from the bakery!"

He brought Sebastian to the sitting room where the five little kittens were playing "do you mind terribly watching them while I go make us some tea?"

Taking Sebastian's coat he hung it up before going to make tea and get snacks.

When he returned with the tray he watched Sebastian play with the tiny kittens who were absolutely overjoyed with the new climbing toy they had.

"I have Lady grey tea and this new tea called 'orange peakoe" (name) said softly as the two sat in the floor "do these little ones have names?" Sebastian asked petting the belly of a kitten, the little fur ball purring away happily as his siblings play with some toys (name) made "ah no, though when they're older the undertaker wants to adopt them, he has a bit of a rat problem and these guys would help that enormously"

"I see..."

"How do you take your tea Mr.Sebastian"

"Just Sebastian, I believe we have become more than mere acquaintances at this point" Sebastian said letting the tiny kitten go as the kittens went to go eat "so are you just vistiting for the kittens mr--- Sebastian"

"Well, I actually came to see you"

"Really?"

"Yes you forgot something your last visit"

"And what is that?"

"This" and with that Sebastian pulled him into a kiss and (name) sunk into it before realizing and pulling away "we can't! The scandal!"

"Then I suppose I should sneak into your home in the dead of night and steal away your lips"

"S-sebastian..."

"Now, hush"

#black butler x male reader #black butler x reader #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x male reader #Sebastian Michaelis x reader #sebastian x male reader #Sebastian x reader

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kpop-stories-21 · 9 months

Text

A Rainbow Under The Sea

Group: Stray Kids

Pairing: Felix x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Rating: 18-21+

Genres, Tropes & AUs: Non-Idol AU, Mermaid/Merman AU, Strangers to Lovers, Love At First Sight

Content & Trigger Warnings: Merman!Felix, Human!Reader, first kiss, strong feelings, a little bit of magic

Summary: Eight best friends fly to Jeju for a summer of fun, maybe romance, and more and while there they each find something, or perhaps someone, spectacular and entirely unexpected.

While out reef snorkeling, you get separated from your group and end up meeting someone... interesting. The second time you see him, you're certain it's not a coincidence.

Tags: @kpop---scenarios @stardragongalaxy @jeonrose @skittlez-area512 @mybiasisexo @biaswreckingfics @anyamaris @trashlord-007 @liliesofdreamsskz @rdiamond2727 @naturalogre SKZ Tags: @lovelyhange

Network pings: @cacaokpop-fics | @kdiarynet

MDNI banner courtesy of @kwanisms , divider courtesy of @cafekitsune

A/N: This is part of Where The Shoreline Meets The Sea, a SKZ Collab between myself and seven other members of @cultofdionysusnet

Collab Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You gazed in awe at the beautiful cabin before you, eyes wide as you paused in the struggle with your stubborn luggage. “Wow!” You murmured, taking in everything around you. “This is gonna be the best summer ever!” Excitement coursing through your body, you moved forward to join your friends, stowing your belongings in the room you would share with Kay before returning to join the discussion about what to do for dinner.

A few days later you stepped onto a tour boat with several strangers, ready to go reef snorkeling for the first time in years. As the boat left the dock, your guide began to go over the rules and protocols for a safe diving experience. You listened intently, not wanting a gap in what you remembered to end up causing harm to yourself or someone else in the group.

Finally, you arrived at a gorgeous reef and the guide went around to help everyone don their suits and gear. Once ready, you jumped into the icy expanse and swam several laps to warm yourself up while you waited for the rest to join.

When at last the guide joined you all in the water, you could hardly contain your excitement. Still, you made sure to pay attention as you followed the group below the surface. You sure as hell did not want to get separated from the group in unfamiliar waters. But as you lifted your waterproof camera to document the beauty of the reef, a thought ran through the back of your head that if you were ever to get lost anywhere, you wouldn’t mind it in such a lovely place as this.

Time flew by as you and the others followed the guide from place to place, seeing one gorgeous sight after another. It didn’t take long at all before your camera was full and you decided to go through them quickly to weed out the bad and blurry ones. Once finished, you looked up to see where the group had gone so you could catch back up. To your dismay, you had done exactly what you were trying not to. Panic began to rise within you as your gaze swept the area, attempting to look for any trace of where they might have gone.

Common sense burst through after a moment and you breathed deeply, forcing yourself to remain calm. Having a panic attack in the ocean was not ideal. Moving forward, you got to the place where you had last seen them and began to look around again. Nothing but aquamarine water met your eyes.

Movement off to your left had you whirling around. A flash of colour disappeared behind a large coral formation and you swam towards it, predicament forgotten as curiosity overtook you. By the time you got there, whatever you saw was gone. Another flash, this time on your right. You swam towards it, this time catching a glimpse of a long tail splashed with many bright colours. Your curiosity doubled and you swam after it.

Whatever this is, it’s damn fast. You thought to yourself. Picking up your speed a little, you continued following the splashes of colour until you found that you were approaching a rather large underwater cave. A seed of doubt wriggled into your mind, but you brushed it off. No dangerous marine wildlife you’d ever heard of behaved this way, so you figured you’d be relatively safe. Upon entering the cave, the creature you’d been following stopped and turned toward you. Amber eyes watched you, strangely human as they seemed to glow in the darkness. The creature swam slowly forward until the light from outside illuminated it.

A gasp left you at the sight of something you never even imagined could be real. From the waist up was the appearance of a human male; with tan skin, longish blonde hair and those gorgeous amber eyes. From the waist down, however, was a long scaly tail with large, delicate fins and the bright splashes of colour that had drawn your attention in the first place.

“You’re a…merman?” You murmured, voice sounding scratchy as it filtered through the apparatus on your mask.

He nodded, coming a little closer with something akin to curiosity in his eyes. Perhaps he was as intrigued by you as you were by him.

“May I ask why you had me follow you?” You inquired, staying perfectly still aside from the kicking of your feet to keep yourself afloat. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. There was a chance he might be able to help you find your snorkelling group.

“I’ve never seen a human up close before, and I thought you were pretty.”

His voice was far deeper than you expected, and his complement made you blush.

“I-Thank you.” A moment of silence passed, then you spoke again. “I was with a group of humans and got separated from them. Did you happen to see where they went?”

The merman nodded, a small smile rising to his face. “I did. I can help you find them too.”

Relief flooded through you and you returned his smile. “I would greatly appreciate that, thank you.”

The merman swam over to you and held out his hand. You took it, blush deepening. His skin was warm, a surprising but welcome contrast to the harsh chill of the water. You struggled to calm your suddenly racing heart as the two of you swam through the reef, heading back toward where the boat had been. Once the boat was within view, the merman stopped.

“They got back on there, but haven’t moved yet.”

“They’re probably trying to figure out exactly where we got separated.” Turning to the merman, you smiled again. “Thank you for helping me. I hope to see you again before I leave.”

It was the merman’s turn to blush, and he seemed to suddenly find his tail quite interesting. “I’d like that.” He said softly. “If the sea gods find it favourable, that is.”

“Let’s hope they do then.” You said cheekily, giving him a small wave before swimming over to the boat.

The instant your head came above water you heard a mix of shouting and cheering from your guide and the other divers. Grinning, you let them help you aboard and explained what happened. You left the merman out of your story, saying instead that you remembered the general direction the boat was in and decided that returning there was your safest bet.

For the next week or so, the mysterious merman was nearly all you thought about. Your friends commented on your uncharacteristic absentmindedness, but you brushed it off as being enthralled by the beauty of coral reef you’d been to.

Halfway into the next week, you decided to head into town and see if you could find a coffee shop anywhere. And find one you did: Blue Hour, a quaint little place with a cosy aura that reminded you of home. A tall, handsome man was behind the counter, his nametag reading “Yeonjun”. He was very talkative and friendly, keeping you entertained while you waited for your order.

As you were turning to leave, your eyes landed on a familiar head of blonde hair and you stopped in your tracks. At about the same time those bright amber eyes landed on you and he, too, stopped walking.

He had legs now. That was the first thing you realised after getting over your initial shock. And as he got closer to you, a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks became clear. And here I thought he couldn’t get any more good-looking. You mused, feeling your face heat.

The smile that bloomed on his face was heart-stopping, bringing up a smile of your own unbidden.

“Would you like to sit and talk?” You asked, motioning to one of the sheltered tables outside the coffee shop. He nodded and followed you to one of the more secluded tables.

Once the two of you were seated, he spoke. “My name is Felix. You left before I could tell you.”

“It’s lovely to see you again Felix. My name is Y/N.”

“A pretty name for a pretty human.” Felix stated, gazing deeply into your eyes.

A blush coating your cheeks, you stuttered out your thanks. Then, clearing your throat, you changed the subject.

“Should I be concerned about you following me?” You asked, a teasing lilt to your voice.

The blonde’s smile morphed into a smirk. “Maybe.” He teased back.

You giggled, feeling strangely at ease with Felix despite barely knowing him.

“So, can you stay in this form for as long as you wish, or will you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”

Felix laughed, a sweet sound that made your stomach fill with butterflies. “As much as I would love for it to be the latter, I am able to stay like this for as long as I want.”

The two of you talked for the better part of an hour, the time flying by so quickly you weren’t even aware until you noticed the sun had begun to set. Before you could even think about leaving, Felix took your hand in his, skin just as warm as the day you first met.

“Before you leave, could I show you something?”

Intrigued, you nodded. “Sure. What is it?”

The merman’s smile was almost blinding. “That is a surprise.”

“Ooooo, now I really want to know!”

“Felix, are you sure I can’t look yet? I’m gonna trip and fall!”

“Don’t worry Y/N-ah. I’m not gonna let you get hurt, I promise.”

“Okay, I think this is good. You can look now.”

Opening your eyes, you let out an awed breath as you took in the sight before you.

Standing knee deep in the chilly ocean, you were surrounded by a coral reef that was completely bioluminescent. Everywhere you looked, things were glowing: fish, coral formations, even the vegetation.

“Felix, I-It’s beautiful! I’ve never seen anything like it in my life!” You turned to him, eyes reflecting the light around you. “How is this even happening?”

“It’s mer magic.” He explained with a wide grin. “This is where I live.”

Your mouth fell open, heart swelling. Did he really trust you this much, that he was willing to show you his home?

“I brought you here for a reason.” Felix said quietly, taking hold of both hands and pulling you close to him. “Ever since that day we met I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. I came to that coffee shop every day, just hoping to run into you.”

You listened raptly, the bubble of joy inside you growing with each word. Was this going where you thought it was?

“What I’m trying to say is, I really like you Y/N and I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

“Oh Felix…” You put your hands on his shoulder and returned his deep gaze. “I feel the same way. I’ve never felt like this towards anyone before, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go. Whatever it takes, I promise I’ll do my best to work something out.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, my sweet human.”

His lips met yours and fireworks exploded behind your eyelids.

#cultofdionysusnet #kdiarynet #cacaokpop #codn wtsmts #stray kids #felix x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids felix #felix fluff #maturefanfic #21+#au #fanfic

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ohslenderaphrodite · 4 months

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The walls of the cave around you shake and rumble with the movements of the great beast inside coming forward. You can feel yourself tremble as you wait and you don't know how much of it is from the very ground itself shaking or from your fear. Or from something else you can't quite name. The rough ropes used to bind your hands together chafes uncomfortably against your skin and you wonder if the great Dragon can smell the blood blooming along your wrists.

When the monster's giant head appears in the opening of the cave you can't hold in your quiet gasp. The Dragon's scales nearly sparkle, even in the dim light cast by the waning moon, a brilliant, dark green that reminds you of summer days spent deep in the surrounding forests. The Dragon's bright gold eyes scan the surrounding area before settling on your trembling form.

"What is this?" Their voice rumbles out low, nearly a growl, and you swear you can feel the vibrations in your chest.

Their teeth are huge. They glisten in the moonlight, bright white against the deepness of their mouth but the edges...The tips of their sharp, pointed fangs are blood red from their last meal.

You're not sure how you manage to stay standing, or find your voice, as you take a shaky step forward.

"Oh Great Dragon, please...please accept my village's offering and spare them this coming winter," you try to remember everything the high priests insisted you say. Well, that someone was supposed to say. The men who had dragged you up here ran as soon as you could hear the beast's approach. "Conditions are harsh and-and they fear the people will not survive if our crops and livestock are ravished by monsters."

The Dragon lowers its great head until you are at eye level. A heavy exhale whips back your hair and the flimsy robe you were dressed in for the offering, but the Dragon's breath is so hot you hardly feel the chill in the air.

"What is your village's offering?" You could definitely feel the vibrations in your chest at this distance. You were nearly close enough to reach out and touch the Dragon's snout.

"I-I am, Oh Great One."

You know you should bow your head or look away or something as the Dragon begins to laugh, but you're mesmerized by those teeth. This close, the largest fangs look nearly as tall as a person and so wide at the base you're not sure you could even wrap your arms around it. You shiver despite the Dragon's presence heating the air around you. You can't help but wonder if those teeth could ever be...gentle. Could the Great Dragon ever...touch you without destroying you?

"And what am I to do with a shivering whelp?"

Finally when the Dragon closes their mouth, hiding those monstrous fangs from view, can you avert your eyes. Bowing your head low, you offer your bound hands, palms up.

"Pl-Please use me to appease your appetite."

The Dragon presses its snout against you. Your bound hands just barely reach the top of their nose as they press their snout flush against your torso. You tremble despite yourself as they inhale deeply. A large forked tongue slips from their mouth, the pointed ends flicking against your bare legs, even hotter than the Dragon's breath against your skin.

"Wi-will I satisfy you, Oh Great Dragon?"

The tongue reaches higher against your body, searching for something or perhaps just getting a quick taste before the Dragon makes their decision. You are completely bare under the thin robe and the wet tongue leaves a burning trail against your skin.

The Dragon pulls back to look at you again, but their tongue continues to flick in and out of their mouth as if they were licking their lips. Their expression has changed some how but you can't read their scaley features well enough to know what it means.

"I've already had my meal for the day and I'm quiet well stocked for the winter already," the Dragon muses. Your heart drops. At least if the Dragon ate you, you thought it would be a quick death. You fear what will become of you if you returned to the village as a rejected sacrifice.

"I suppose you'll just have to satisfy me in other ways."

#text #monsters #mine #dragon #sacrifice #i didnt like any of the other endings i added so thats what we get #but i keep thinking about someone being offered as a sacrifice to a great monster #and just being obsessed with their mouth/teeth #so here you go

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blueraineshadows · 8 months

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Secrets of the Night Part Three

Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt

NSFW 🔞 Angst, trauma, bisexuality, eventual smut, death, self-discovery, friendship

Chapter Master List

The gentle rush and splash of the waves washed over Sebastian's feet and ankles as he walked the edge of the ocean, his bare feet sinking softly into the white sand of the Scottish coast. He breathed in deeply, the tang of salt and the sea clearing his lungs and mind as he allowed himself to relax, muscles he held tense most of the time releasing their ache.

The summer was a warm one, calling for open shirts at the throat and short trousers without socks in order to gain relief from the heat. Sebastian pushed his fingers through his hair. His locks had become long and were in need of a trim, but Anne had usually done that for him. He didn't fancy having a go himself, and there was no way he was going to let Ominis loose with the scissors on his tumbled head of hair.

Sebastian felt his lips twitch with fondness as Ominis came to mind. After the night Sebastian had released his damn of pain, sobbing in his best friend's arms, things had begun to improve at a faster rate between them. Ominis had left Hogwarts for the summer break with him, and now they were both in the cottage in Feldcroft, making the most of lazy summer days before heading back to school for their 6th year.

Ominis was keeping the loneliness at bay, but the shadow of Anne's absence stretched long and dark through their days. Their trio had been cut down to two, and Sebastian missed his twin like he was missing a limb. There had been no word, nothing, and he hoped with all that he was that she was alright.

She was no replacement, nobody could ever replace Anne, but their new friend would be here soon. Sebastian found he was longing to see her, hear her voice, and draw from that warmth that she so freely offered. She was coming to stay for a few days, and as much as Sebastian cherished this time alone with Ominis, it was something he was very much looking forward to. Owls exchanged were lovely, but it was not enough. She had her own pain to carry, and he hoped to share her burden in payment for the selfless way she had carried him through the end of 5th year. She was returning to Hogwarts for 6th year alongside them despite the difficult end to last term. Her bravery and tenacity continued to impress Sebastian, and he thanked Merlin for sending her to them. She seemed to have arrived when they had needed her the most. Perhaps she would even cut his hair for him, and he smiled at the thought.

"Sebastian!"

He turned his head to see Ominis coming towards him, wand up blinking as he crossed the sand towards the waves. The sunlight reflected off his fair hair, his cheeks were full of healthy colour, and those plush lips were caught in a slight smile. Sebastian had to force himself to draw breath at the way the breeze tugged at his open shirt, the fabric fluttering and offering glimpses of smooth pale flesh, a dusky pink nipple peeping in and out of view. Sebastian swallowed hard, ducking his gaze as Ominis drew closer.

"I'm here," he called softly.

Ominis smiled wider and approached, exclaiming softly as the cold ocean washed over his bare feet. "You're paddling," he said. "Would you like some company?"

Sebastian smiled. "Of course," he replied. A playfulness enveloped him, and he reached out for Ominis wand hand, tugging his wand free and slipping it into his pocket. "Come, let's jump the waves like we used to with Anne."

"We are not children any more, Sebastian," Ominis frowned.

Sebastian chuckled, taking hold of both of Ominis' hands. He leaned in, staring into eyes of palest blue that wandered aimlessly in his general direction, filled with swirls like the ocean itself. "Indulge me a little."

Sebastian tugged at his hands, gently, coaxing him further into the wash of waves. Ominis relented and allowed himself to be led in until the water began to soak the ends of their short trousers.

"Merlin, this is cold," Ominis gasped.

Sebastian laughed. "Are you ready?" Ominis nodded, head turning expectantly towards the oncoming rush of a wave. "Jump!"

Both of them jumped, hands clasped, their feet lifting from the sand as the wave rolled through. They landed, stumbling a little, and Sebastian immediately put a steadying hand to Ominis' waist to stop him from falling. They both laughed, a feeling of freedom and abandonment flushing through Sebastian as he yelled for them to jump again. It was just like being a child again, him and Ominis laughing, splashing, just being idiots under the summer sun. They had moved through the water until the waves were above their knees, indulging in swiping the salty water at each other, shouting and squealing at the cold Atlantic waves.

Sebastian could not tear his eyes from Ominis, the laughter that lit his face, the way his hair had tumbled loose and wild from its usual neatness. His shirt was soaked, clinging to his slim frame in ways that made Sebastian burn with hunger. His whispered confession against Ominis' chest through his tears had lingered in his heart. His love was even stronger now that he knew its glow. The words filled him, and yet they had no outlet other than in the time spent and gestures made, such as helping Ominis with simple tasks as he had always done. Looking at Ominis, frolicking in the waves made him want to show him in other ways. Sebastian's touch lingered longer on his arms, his hands, aching to smooth up his chest and run fingers through his hair.

It distracted him enough to miss the bigger wave rolling in that hit them both above the waists. Sebastian staggered and caught himself, but Ominis went down, his head disappearing under the waves with a cut-off shout of surprise. Sebastian immediately launched himself forward, arms reaching to drag Ominis back up onto his feet, coughing and spluttering as he wiped at his face.

"Gods, are you alright?" Sebastian laughed. He may have laughed, but a sudden clench of fear had seized his stomach and then dissipated at the sight of Ominis disappearing under the waves.

Ominis nodded. "I'm fine," he spluttered. And then, he was laughing, a loud delighted laugh that brought the widest smile to Sebastian's face.

He stared at Ominis, his chest swelling, and the urge to grab him up into his arms and kiss him was so strong it brought tears to his eyes.

"Perhaps we should return to the shallows," Ominis suggested, shaking his drenched hair. "I think I swallowed sea water. I wouldn't recommend it."

Sebastian chuckled and took his arm, guiding him back onto the beach, the pair of them dripping and shivering, but their smiles were wide. "Let's head back and get dried off. We can have some tea and try that cake we got from Hogsmeade."

....*....

After the sunshine and laughter of the beach came the shadows of the night. Both of them struggled with sleep. It was an accepted trait that they both shared, but tonight, Ominis had fallen into a doze that left Sebastian alone with his thoughts. A walk around Feldcroft cleared them a little, but on his return to the cottage, he passed the grave of his uncle. Pausing, Sebastian looked down at the last resting place of the man who had taken him in, guilt clawing at his flesh from the inside as echoes of that night flickered in his mind. Sebastian did not miss the man, but his actions had been unforgivable. No wonder his twin hated him.

Saved from a fate worse than death by the two people left in his life now, Sebastian did not take for granted the freedom of his summer days. He had been keeping to his word. He had not dabbled in dark magic, although he did read of it. He still thought it wise to absorb any and all knowledge. His mother's Ravenclaw spirit was deep in his bones, and research made him feel closer to her.

The pang of his loss seared through him. How he longed to speak to his mother, just once. He knew he would be able to tell her about Ominis. She would understand. He just knew she would. She had always told him to be himself because that was the best person he could be.

With Ominis at his side, he thought he could be himself. Nobody knew him better than Ominis did. If only he could see into his best friend's heart and mind and know that he felt the same. If he did, then things would be a lot easier. Opening his mouth and admitting the truth that lay coiled in his heart was not easy, fear made it stay firmly in a cavern of safety and to pull that truth out into the light of day would make his feelings utterly real. Ominis could swipe all that away and leave an emptiness that Sebastian was sure he wouldn't be able to come back from. He could not risk losing Ominis. His heart would not take it.

Wiping the stray tear that had escaped onto his cheek, Sebastian returned to the dim interior of the cottage and his bed. As he removed his clothing and donned a night shirt, he moved to look down at a still sleeping Ominis. The serene look of peace on his friend's face brought a soft smile to his lips and he moved to gently brush back silken strands of blonde hair across his forehead, a soft sigh leaving him, a sound that bordered on contentment.

As Sebastian turned to climb into his own bed, he did not see as Ominis' eyelids fluttered open, staring unseeing, an awareness on his features that came from one who had not been asleep.

....*....

The sound of her laughter did indeed enrich the days when she finally arrived in Feldcroft. They spent hours reading in the shade, and she tried to teach Sebastian how to bake a cake that ended in much hilarity and mess, but the cake had tasted good. They took walks together in the woods and on the beach, stocking up on potion ingredients, and they shopped at the market. She even cut Sebastian's hair for him, and his neck felt much cooler for her efforts.

Sebastian watched as Ominis fussed over her, holding her arm as they walked, and he even picked a flower to put in her hair one afternoon they spent in the woods. Sebastian could sadly understand it. She was a delight to be around. It was easy to be drawn to her, but it made him squirm. Dark, slippery feelings coiled in his stomach as he watched them together. Every touch made him ache to be touched. Every smile and softly spoken word that Ominis had for her felt like they had been stolen from him.

It occurred to Sebastian that, should they fall in love, he would be forced to watch them build their life together, for how could he leave them? They were all he had. It was a difficult thing to swallow, and it stuck in his throat, almost choking him through his smiles. It was inevitable that the day would come when Ominis would fall for someone. It could be her, and maybe it was already starting.

It did not occur to Sebastian that she also touched him with soft hands, smiled, and spoke to him of things to make him laugh. Her presence here in Feldcroft warmed him in ways that he didn't even realise, weaving a web of safety around him that maybe he was taking for granted. Sebastian did not really believe that he deserved such things for all the darkness that he had harboured over the last year. Her beacon of light, her hope and warmth, surely it was not in equal parts for him when she had Ominis right there. Ominis was a gentle soul born out of shadow and darkness. Sebastian cast shadows into his light, and she did not. How could he blame his best friend for wanting to lean towards her?

Perhaps his atonement would be to allow them to have their love. Sebastian should not sully something born out of such innocence and light, and he should let Ominis have what he deserved. This journey of acceptance was not something that Sebastian was keen on, but if he had to, then he would. He owed them that much.

To counter this difficult observation between his two nearest and dearest, Sebastian made attempts to flirt with the pretty witches at the market and on their trip to Hogsmeade. It surprised him when he received smiles and sparkling eyes in response. Clearly, he had more charm than he first assumed, and his friends took great delight in teasing him for his efforts. It was the cause for more laughter and banter over tea time.

But, at night time, as ever, the shadows came to taunt Sebastian. He would slip out from the cottage, leaving his friends in their beds, to wander aimlessly through the dark as he tried to place these thoughts in order and make sense of them. He was on his way to being seventeen. He would be of age soon, and yet the world still felt so big and open, a terrifying place that made him wonder if he truly had a place within it. He had failed as a brother, his actions would have shamed his parents, and his troubles had made his school work slip, which angered him. Failure was not something that sat comfortable with Sebastian.

He would not fail as a friend. He would not fail Ominis.

As he approached the cottage, he noticed a light from within. The window was open in search of air in this humid summer, and as Sebastian passed by, he heard the murmur of low voices drift out to him. He paused, hating to eavesdrop, but his friends were alone in there, without him there to interrupt their time together. He shifted, peering through the gap in the window to see her seated at the table, Ominis beside her. Their chairs were close, allowing him to have his arm around her, her head against his shoulder. Sebastian could not see their faces. Their backs were to him, but the moment looked intimate, and he had to look away. He thought he might be sick, and he had to breathe deeply, reminding himself that they were his friends. He could not hate them. He could not deprive them of happiness no matter the pain that stabbed through him.

....*....

The next day, she invited Sebastian to walk with her on the beach. Ominis declined, claiming he wanted a nap, and so Sebastian was the one whose arm she held as they walked. She leant on him, laughed with him, and he tried to keep his smile in place as he gazed at her. If things had been different, would he have loved her too? What, then?

"Let's stop for a bit," she said. She pulled him down to sit on the sand, the breeze tugging at her hair as she smoothed her skirts. "Let's enjoy the view for a few moments."

Sebastian sat cross-legged, spilling sand through his fingers as the wash of the waves and the call of the gulls surrounded them.

"It's beautiful here. You are lucky to live in such a lovely part of the world," she said. "The city is not beautiful, not like this. Maybe I should move close to here one day. You and Ominis mean so much to me. I hate it when we are apart."

Sebastian looked at her. "What of your Aunt?"

Her eyes clouded and she bowed her head. "My Aunt will not last this year," she said quietly. "She is sick. The doctors have done all they can."

Sebastian's heart squeezed painfully, and he closed his eyes. The memories of doctors and hospitals and words spoken of no hope filled him, and he swallowed hard. His hand reached for hers, and he held it tight. She had nobody else. Like him, she would be alone in the world. "I am sorry."

"I wasn't going to say anything this trip. I wanted this summer to be filled with joy, for all of us, after... You know," she said. "However, Ominis caught me crying last night, and I revealed the truth to him. I wanted to tell you as well now that he knows. We agreed, no more secrets, right?"

Sebastian met her gaze and nodded slowly, realising that this must have been what he had witnessed through the window last night. Relief washed through him, swirling in a sickening eddy against his pain on her behalf. He let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulders, much like Ominis had done last night.

"You will never be alone, not while I am around," he said. "You are my family now, you and Ominis, and you are always welcome here."

She smiled, tears shining in her eyes. "I love you both," she whispered. "And that means a lot."

He nodded, and they sat quietly for a moment, just appreciating the quietness that lived alongside the constant roar of the ocean. A man walking with his dog came along the beach. He looked at them and tipped his hat to them, his eyes curious as he took in the sight of Sebastian with his arm about her. She blushed and giggled.

"Look at us sitting here like a pair of young lovers," she chuckled. "People will be getting the wrong idea about us."

Sebastian blushed, his eyes following the man as he wandered away from them along the beach. His arm moved to leave her body, not wanting to be inappropriate with her, and she tugged him back.

"Oh, don't be daft," she said. "I know you would never disrespect me in such a way. And I know you do not love me like that."

His eyes met with her teasing ones and he smirked. "Are you saying you do want me to love you like that, my dear?"

She laughed, head back, the sound delightful on the breeze. "Don't you dare work those charms on me, Mr Sallow," she cried. She leant against him, eyes sparkling as she hugged his arm. "I do not seek your heart, Sebastian. I love you, dearly, but I know that your heart belongs to another. I wouldn't dream of taking that away from you...or him."

Sebastian stilled. His heart pounded as she tagged those last two words to the end of her speech. The light, teasing mood faded instantly and he slowly met her eyes. "What?"

She gave him a look that said she wasn't fooled by this feigned ignorance. "I know you love Ominis. It's in your eyes whenever you look at him, it's in your voice whenever you speak to him, and I would be a fool not to see it given the amount of time I spend with you both. I have known for a while, and I have been waiting for you to embrace it, because you deserve to be happy, Sebastian."

He could barely swallow. It was hard to breathe, and stupid tears stung his eyes that he blinked furiously away. His heart hammered in his chest, and he pulled free from her grip, shaking his head. Her words went against everything that had been building in his mind, the picture his imagination had painted of her and Ominis that had tormented him was suddenly in shreds and he didn't now know where to look. "No," he muttered.

He got to his feet, kicking up sand in his scramble to do so. He couldn't look at her, shame flooding his cheeks with colour. He took off at a run, feet sliding on the soft sand.

"Sebastian, wait!"

He ignored her. Panic had seized him. Had he been so obvious? The thought filled him with terror. Perhaps others had seen, and they knew. Did Ominis know? Cold fear slid down his spine, and he ran faster, pounding the sand, the muscles in his legs burning with the effort as he fled her words. He could hear her shouting, the sounds of her trying to chase after him. He didn't want to look into her eyes and see the truth staring back at him.

He could lose everything! All the summer he had spent building that bond, that trust, with Ominis, would come crashing down around them, and he could not go through it again. His heart was held in fingers of glass, and the truth could shatter it.

Tears came freely as he ran blindly. He had no idea where he was going, but he could not be here. So he ran. He ran from her and her truths, he ran from the beach, he ran from Feldcroft, but most of all he was running from himself.

To be continued...

#sebinis #Sebastian Sallow #Ominis Gaunt #sebastian sallow x ominis gaunt #sebastian x ominis #blueraineshadows

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vintageshanny · 11 months

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Play Something For Me - Part 2 - Reunited and It Feels So Good

Content: Elvis in Vegas late summer of 1973, smut, 18+

Writing Prompt: “Are you always this shy?”

Thank you to everyone who gave me feedback on part one (link at the bottom) and for requesting a second part!

And thank you to these lovely ladies for loving on Elvis with me and always lifting my spirits: @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @whositmcwhatsit @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love @powerofelvis

Ruby smoothed out her sparkly blue dress as she stepped off the elevator at the Las Vegas Hilton Hotel and walked toward the showroom where the concert was supposed to take place. There were Elvis posters everywhere she looked. For fifteen years, she had listened to his music and watched his movies while somehow compartmentalizing her own personal experience with him. Now that she was maybe going to see him face to face, she couldn’t stop her heart from racing. She felt like that inexperienced 18-year-old girl all over again. Not that her experiences had been vast since then. Just a horrible failed marriage and a pathetic attempt at dating every once in a while.

She wasn’t even sure why she was here or what she would say to him if she got a chance, or the nerve, to speak. All she knew was that, since Ella had shared that interview with her five months ago, she could not get it out of her mind that he remembered her. That she had left some imprint on him in that church so many years ago. Maybe it was just the “what if” that was driving her forward now, forcing her to seize this opportunity. Ella was spending the last few weeks of summer vacation with her father, so Ruby had decided to splurge on a little trip for herself, including a floor seat for Elvis’ concert. She hadn’t even told anyone she was coming here, she felt so ridiculous about trying to relive this one moment of passion.

Ruby entered the showroom and found her seat, looking around nervously, waiting for the show to start. She applauded politely for the opening act, but she could barely focus on anything. Anxiety was just flooding her brain. She started thinking that perhaps she should just go, that this was all a mistake, when the lights dimmed and Elvis’ opening music started. He came striding onto the stage in a bejeweled white jumpsuit. Ruby’s jaw dropped a little when she saw him. He had changed a bit of course, filled out a little, but it looked good on him. He was still so handsome, and the same energy still radiated off of him. She found herself singing along and cheering like a crazed fan as he ran through hit after hit, laughing and joking with the audience.

When he started singing Love Me Tender, her pulse quickened. She knew this was her chance. Propelled by pure adrenaline, she forced herself out of her seat and toward the stage where a line of women were already waiting for a kiss. Elvis moved down the line, handing out scarves and kisses, until he was right above her. As he leaned down, she saw him do a double take. The way he was crouched above her, her face so close to that beautiful bulge between his legs, her eyes staring up at his sweaty face, she was having a sense of deja vu. She could feel her face flushing red as he leaned in close and pressed his soft lips to hers. Instead of pulling back right away, he leaned and whispered in her ear, “My red Ruby, I-I-I knew I’d find you again someday.” She smiled as she recognized his sweet little stutter, and he winked as he continued on down the line.

After she returned to her seat, Ruby tried to stop her heart from racing. She could see Elvis looking in her direction every so often as he finished the concert, but she was unsure if he could even see her through the bright stage lights. She felt a sense of satisfaction that he had recognized her, but she also found herself wondering, Is that it? Did I just come for a kiss and confirmation that he remembers me? As she went back to her hotel room after the show, she felt a weird sense of incompleteness. Maybe this was all a mistake. You should have left the past in the past. You can never really go back. She cried herself to sleep, confused about what she had been expecting from this trip.

The ringing phone next to her bed woke her with a jolt. She glanced over at the bedside clock. 2:30 in the morning. Who on Earth? No one even knows I’m here, she thought to herself in her groggy state as she reached for the receiver. “Hello?” she answered sleepily. A deep baritone came rumbling through the other end. “My little red Ruby. How’ve you been, honey?” he asked as if no time had passed at all. “Elvis?” she whispered in shock. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” he said with a laugh. “I see your sense of humor hasn’t changed any,” she teased, somehow finding herself put at ease by the sound of his voice. “Well, you haven’t changed a bit honey, lookin’ up at me with those big beautiful eyes and that sweet blushin’ face,” he said. Ruby could feel her face burning up, realizing Elvis must have felt that same sense of deja vu up on the stage. “I bet you’re blushin’ right now, jus’ hearin’ me say that,” he joked. “I guess you’ll never know, will you?” she said, trying not to give herself away. “I’ll have Charlie tell me,” he said. “Charlie?” Ruby asked just as she heard a knock at the door. “Yeah, I sent him down to get ya, honey. I want ya to come up here so we can…catch up on old times.” Ruby gulped nervously. “Oh, um, well…” “C’mon, honey, don’t ya wanna talk to me? Ya once said you’d never stop loving me.” “I said your music,” Ruby clarified, “and I already got to hear that.” Elvis chuckled a little bit at that. “Okay,” she sighed, feeling her heart race. “I’ll come up and talk to you.”

Ruby quickly put her dress back on and combed her hair, not really sure what Elvis was expecting when he said “catch up on old times.” She opened the door to find a short man waiting patiently outside. “Ruby?” he asked. “Yes, that’s me,” she whispered nervously. “Come along with me. Elvis is expecting you.” Ruby quietly followed behind him, wondering how often Elvis had his friends deliver women to him from their hotel rooms. Charlie knocked on the door of Elvis’ suite and then stepped back, indicating to Ruby that she should open the door. She cautiously stepped in and looked around. Elvis came walking out of the bedroom dressed in silky navy blue monogrammed pajamas. “Aww, Ruby, ya didn’t have ta get all dressed up for me,” he walked toward her with a big smile as she closed the door behind her. “Oh, I didn’t know what to expect up here,” she whispered nervously as he kept coming closer. “It’s jus’ us here, baby. I kicked everyone else out so we could, y’know, catch up.” Elvis wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek gently.

Ruby pulled back a little and nervously mumbled, “Okay, we can catch up.” She walked over to a chair to sit down, but Elvis pulled her by the hand toward the bedroom. “W-W-We’ll be more comfortable in here sweet Ruby,” he said. “Unless ya want me to find a church,” he teased. Ruby’s face started flaming as he sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him. “Ah there’s my red Ruby,” he said with a big crooked grin, and in that moment, Ruby saw clearly the sweet, cocky, self-conscious young man from fifteen years ago. She kicked her heels off and crawled up next to him, leaning back against the headboard and smoothing her dress out over her legs. “What did you want to talk about?” she asked. “Are ya married, honey?” Elvis asked bluntly. Ruby stiffened a little bit, surprised by the question. “Um, I’m divorced,” she said, a little embarrassed. “That’s okay, honey, me too,” Elvis said, as if this wasn’t common knowledge. “I just feel like I failed at this thing that was supposed to last forever,” Ruby admitted. She surprised herself with the way she could just open up to him so easily. As they talked about the difficulties of divorce, it was like no time had passed. “Sometimes life just doesn’t go how we planned, that don’t make you a failure,” he said, grabbing her chin and looking into her eyes. “B’sides, he probably didn’t deserve a sweet thing like you. Selfishly, honey, I’m kinda glad you ain’t married. I want a clear conscience.” “A clear conscience?” Ruby questioned, confused. Elvis shifted a little and looked down at his hands as he spoke.

“Ruby, honey, when we met all those years ago, I was really goin’ through somethin’ difficult. I-I-I had just lost my mama, I was in a brand new place, and I w-w-was scared. You don’t know how much it meant that you came along and talked to me like a normal person and made me feel good about myself and, and just made me feel good in general,” he said, blushing at that last part. “If I’d been thinkin’ more clearly, I woulda asked ya for a way to stay in touch then, but I didn’t even have your last name. I couldn’t find ya honey, so I’ve been w-w-waitin’ fifteen years to pay you back.” Elvis ran his hand gently over Ruby’s thigh as she breathed in sharply at his touch. “So what do ya say, baby? Can I make ya feel good?” he whispered, lowering his head, looking up at her through his long eyelashes. Ruby was startled as she realized something that she was too young and naive to notice in Germany. Elvis was nervous. She again felt that familiar urge to do anything to please him. Instead of answering him, she leaned in and pressed her lips against his, pushing her tongue into his mouth the way he had kissed her that first time. “Is that a yes?” Elvis laughed as she pulled back to catch her breath. Ruby laughed too and nodded.

Elvis rolled over on top of her and slowly started sliding down to where her dress was riding up her legs. He lifted the hem and put his head underneath, kissing her thighs. “Oh, what are you doing?” she yelped, pushing his head gently away. Elvis looked up confused. “What do ya mean? I’m g-g-gonna make ya feel good.” “Oh, not like that, I mean, you don’t have to…” Ruby’s voice trailed off as she looked away, embarrassed. “Are ya always this shy, honey? You were pretty forward with me, as I recall,” Elvis smirked. “I just, um, I mean, no one’s ever, you don’t have to do that,” Ruby mumbled, wishing she could just disappear. “Oh, sweet red Ruby, ya mean to say no one’s ever licked your little kitty?” Elvis asked in surprise. Ruby shook her head, unable to look him in the eye. “Hey, honey, look at me. It’s okay. Just lean back, and I’m gonna show ya the time of your life, baby. Lemme take care of ya.” As Elvis returned his lips to Ruby’s thighs, she could hear him mumble, “That man definitely did not deserve you, honey.”

Ruby tried to keep her breathing even as Elvis slowly slid her panties down her legs and tucked them into the pocket of his pajamas. “Goddamn, honey, you are so beautiful,” he said as he spread her pussy open with his fingers and looked at it glistening, just waiting for his tongue to work its magic. Ruby let out an embarrassingly loud moan as Elvis leaned in and licked her most private area. “I’m sorry,” she whispered nervously. “Mmm, don’t be sorry, baby, you’re just lettin’ me know I’m takin’ care of ya. You can scream out as loud as you need to.” Elvis went back to flicking her clit with his tongue before sticking it all the way inside her while he used his fingers to aid in the pleasure. In the eight years with her husband, Ruby had never had close to the amount of pleasure Elvis gave her with his tongue. She couldn’t have stopped from screaming his name even if she’d wanted to. When he finally pulled his face out from between her legs, Ruby was a bit embarrassed to see her slick all over his mouth and chin, but Elvis did not seem bothered at all. He pulled her panties out of his pocket and wiped his face. “Damn, honey, that was a feast,” he teased her as he laid his head on her stomach. Ruby blushed and ran her fingers through his thick dark hair. “That feels good, mama,” Elvis said as she gently scratched his scalp.

“Elvis, I’ve never felt so good before,” Ruby admitted shyly. “I know baby, it’s cuz we have some kinda special bond. To find each other again after all these years. Y’know, I believe there are no coincidences, everything happens for a reason,” Elvis continued, nuzzling his face into her chest. “And what is the reason for us?” Ruby whispered, wondering if what he was saying was true or if it was just the high of reuniting after all this time. “I don’ know yet, baby, but I think we should find out. Come to my show again tomorrow. Spend some time with me. Or are you moving to a different country in a few days?” Ruby smiled a little bit at that. “No, but I do have to go back home at the end of the week,” she said. “Okay, so come to the rest of my shows and spend the week with me,” he said, more of a demand than a request. “I only had a ticket for this one,” Ruby explained. “That’s okay, baby, I can get ya in. I know the star,” Elvis laughed. Ruby giggled at that and leaned down to kiss his head. “Okay, I guess we owe it to ourselves to see what’s in store.”

#elvis #sexy #writing prompt game #Elvis smut #elvis x oc #i love this man

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