#It took me a long time to gather my courage for this

[chutiyaaa]

14 lines from love letters or suicide notes by Doc Luben

1. Don't freak out.

2. We both know this has been coming for a long time.

3. I've been staying awake at night, wondering if I should tell you.

4. I bought the kind of crackers you can eat; they are in the hall cupboard.

5. Now that we have watched all the episodes of True Blood, I do not know what else to do next.

6. I always imagined this would happen without warning, Like suddenly on an ocean cliff side. But this is the kind of thing where waiting for the time to be right would just mean waiting forever.

7. I've just been too afraid for too long

8. I came home on Tuesday and found all of the chairs that I own stacked in a tower in the center of my kitchen. I don't know how long they had been like that but it can only be me that did it. It's the kind of thing a ghost might do to prove to the living that he is still there. I am haunting my own apartment.

9. My grandmother was still alive when I was 5 years old, And she asked me to check and see if the iron was hot enough yet. So I pressed my hand against it and it was red and screaming for hours. 25 years later, she would still sometimes apologize in the middle of conversations. "I feel so bad about making you touch the iron." She'd say, as though it had just happened. I cannot imagine how we forgive ourselves for all the things we didn't say until it was too late. But how else do you tell if something is hot but to touch it?

10. I keep imagining my furniture in your apartment.

11. I wonder how many likes this will get on Facebook.

12. My dad always used to tell the same joke but I can't remember the punchline.

13. I was 8 years old and it took 3 weeks, 3 8-year-old weeks, imagine, to gather everything that I would need to be Batman. Rope, boomerangs, a Mardi Gras mask with the beads cut off. I couldn't find a cave near my house so I buried them all in a bundle under the ivy. For years after, I tried to find that spot again. The ivy grew too fast. I searched in so many spots, it seemed impossible that I had missed one, but I never found it. How can something be there and then not be there? How do we forgive ourselves for all the things we did not become?

14. I never had the courage to buy bright green sheets. I wanted them but thought they were too brash, even with no one but me to see them. I bought a set yesterday and put them on the bed. I knew that you would like them.

oh man. oh jeez

[renavi0]

Viviakou: Dream

[cursingtoji]

the cardio machine i want is on the cardio machine

cw: gym rat toji x loser!gf - size kink, sweat kink (?), toji is a big old meanie. loser!gf series: geto gojo nanami.

loser!reader who, like a million other sedentary people on new year’s eve, said “new year new me” and proceeded to enroll at the local gym.

gym rat!toji who knew how things are in the beginning of the year, so the first week he arrives one hour earlier than usual to avoid all the lazy fucks that won’t last two months.

of course he makes a few mental bets on the ones that would quit and how long it would take, you included.

it’s easy to spot the “i don’t want lift weights cause i don’t want look jacked” type of girl.

at the breaks between one set and the other he looked around, not surprised to see you slowing down the treadmill after running not even two whole minutes.

sometimes he caught you staring at him through the mirror, not an uncommon occurrence amonst the women there, though you surprised him one day by tapping his shoulder after he finishing his weighted squats.

“can you… give me a few tips?” he looked so intimidated, from up close his shoulders looked like a wall, he stared at you from above, dark green eyes seemed to be heavily judging you, “never mind this was a bad idea, sorry” you turned around, grabbing you bottle and running off the gym.

by the time you managed to gather the courage to show your face back there two whole weeks had passed.

“consistency is the key you know” you were distracted looking down your phone while slowly walking the treadmill when the handsome man appeared beside you, the sudden presence destabilized you.

before you could become the viral video of the week when inevitably a gym employee decides to post the security footage of your ass rolling off the active treadmill, toji wrapped one big arm around your waist and pulled you to the stable floor.

“you caught me off guard the other day” he said completely unfazed by saving you from a life of embarrassment, “then you disappeared.”

“yeah i didn’t know if i wanted to come back anyways, i haven’t see any results so far” you pulled the hem of your shirt down.

toji snorted, “‘course you ain’t seeing results, sweetheart, you don’t lift.”

“well, it’s hard…” toji rolled his eyes, there was always an excuse.

though he also did a new year’s resolution of being more patient, for his kids primarily but teaching a cute thing like you could be a good exercise too.

soon enough, toji was correcting your form, texting you asking why you haven’t showed up to the gym and ringing your bell incessantly when you complained about muscle pain and said you wouldn't go that day.

“it’ll feel better once you start to move” he explained, resting on your door frame when you opened the door on your pajamas.

“let me alone, just today” you whined.

“you asked for my help now go put on something without cartoons on it” he waited for you to turn around and slapped your butt. it had been only one week he was coaching you but there was already a weird intimacy due to the fact he was pretty much always looking at your body and touching you.

to correct your form. obviously.

"what do i have to do today, coach fushiguro?" you asked from your bedroom through an ajar door which allowed toji to get a peek at your pink underwear and cute ass.

"cardio, bicycle first. get some blood flowing on those sore muscles" he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows watching you bend over to grab a biker shorts at the lowest drawer then holding back a laughter at the grunt of pain coming from you.

"once it gets better i can teach you other types of cardio" he walked around your kitchen examining your cabinets and stuff you kept in your fridge. needless to say it was all junk.

"can't wait" you replied sarcastically, failing to understand the meaning.

it took a few more days till you got used to toji's training, then he decided to focus on your upper body.

"such a simple movement, how do you manage to get that wrong?" he raised from the bench he was sitting behind you watching your form through the mirror. you almost dropped the weights at your feet when he came close. it was almost scary how much bigger than you he was especially seeing it throght the mirror. his right hand wrapped around yours on the dumbell and his bicep touched your arm as he pushed your arm closer to your body, "tuck your elbows in, straight your back" his free hand pushed your shoulders till they were touching his chest.

how come he smelled so good, so... musky and...

"are you even making any force?" he lowered his head, his reflection looking annoyed. so you decided to ignore the sudden heat between your thighs and flex your arm the way he taught you.

and just like he promised, when you were consistent enough and handling a good 5 minute run he decided to show you a more pleasing cardio.

"toji please~" you whined, thighs burning from riding him, you were using his rock hard abdomen as a support, but still.

"one more minute, come on" he looked at the watch on his wrist and slapped your ass, "haven't i prep-ed you good enough?" his thumb rubbed your bottom lip then pushed in meeting your tongue, where you tasted yourself in his digits one hour after he ringed your bell and said he was going to reward your good discipline, but he had to strech you first.

"good girl" you felt his abdomn flex when he raised from his laying position on your bed, "now leave it to daddy" he pecked your lips and quickly changed positions, putting a pillow under your ass and rolling his neck to start his cardio of the day.

[paarksunghoon]

resignation (5)

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: unrelated to this fic, trendwave sunghoon has me acting UP. but also when am i not when it comes to him…my bf fr

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: an incredible amount of sexual tension & fingering.

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

***

The first thing you feel when you wake up is Sunghoon’s fingers brushing the hair from your eyes. The second is the warmth of his hand. 

It startles you to see him sitting on the edge of the bed and so close to you. He chuckles at your reaction and watches you gather yourself when you remember you awoke in his guest bedroom and not your own. 

“Good morning, sleepy head.” 

Even his morning voice sounds like Heaven with how deep and sultry it is. You blink the sleep away from your eyes and Sunghoon continues to cradle your face as you adjust to the morning light peeking through the window. 

“What time is it?”

“A little past six. How’d you sleep?” 

You nuzzle against his palm and close your eyes. You miss the way he smiles down at you. “Really well, actually. You rich people have this sleeping shit figured out.”

He caresses you again. “You snore like a little kitten.”

“I don’t snore.” 

“Yes, love. You do.” You ignore him, and you ignore the pet name. 

“We have to get to work, don’t we? I don’t have an extra outfit and I don’t feel like showing up in the clothes I wore yesterday.” 

“We’ll stop by your apartment before going to work.”

You make a face. “We’ll be late.”

“I’m the boss,” he says. “I can tell you when to come in.” 

“Oh? This is a first for you.” 

“You need to take care of Pochi too, don’t you?”

“Hm. You’re right. I do miss my cat.” 

Sunghoon bends down and kisses you like he’s done this a thousand times before. He’s slow with it, moving his lips in tandem with you until you’ve truly registered that he’s kissing you. It’s a new sensation. It’s weird, neither good nor bad, just different. Sunghoon’s breath is minty and when you pull away, you’re surprised when he lets out a small whine.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” you tell him when he leans in for another kiss. Your arms brace his shoulders and you try to keep him at bay. He doesn’t seem to care, though, and steals another kiss from you. 

“You think I care about that?” Another kiss. Your cheeks heat up. 

“I dunno. I haven’t done this in a while.”

“Kiss your boss and wake up in his arms?” 

You roll your eyes and sit up, pushing him away while he laughs. “Dumbass. I haven’t kissed anybody in a long time.” 

“You’re doing just fine.” 

Looking at him makes your heart race for more reasons than one. Sunghoon is absolutely gorgeous from this angle, especially when he’s wearing casual clothes and sporting hair that looks like it hasn’t been brushed. He looks painfully normal instead of the high-demanding businessman you know him to be. Sunghoon looks almost approachable like this. If the two of you met under different circumstances, you might’ve gathered the courage to ask him out. 

On the other hand, there aren’t many times you can say you’ve awoken in a man’s guest bedroom with gentle kisses being pressed upon your face. It’s the first time anybody has ever woken you up like this, and it took a great deal not to immediately panic and push him away. It’s scary how nice being doted on feels, and you’ve only gotten a little taste of it with Sunghoon kissing you as soon as you awoke. 

This feels different than what you’re used to. Typically, Pochi makes her way to your face and nuzzles her own between your neck, the outside construction prevents you from falling back asleep when you're able to sleep in, and you usually wake up alone. What you’re not used to, however, is Sunghoon looking at you like he’s got stars in his eyes. The idea that anybody could look at you like that is alarming and unfamiliar.

“We’ve got plenty of time,” he says before bending down to touch your lips with his. “I can hear that little brain of yours working so hard.”

“My brain isn’t little.” He smiles against your mouth and gives your lips a peck. 

“Mm. Definitely not. My smart girl. I can still hear you thinking, though.” Sunghoon’s hand touches your outer thigh and it sends a shiver up your body. 

“Oh yeah? What am I thinking about?”

“How we’ll be late if we don’t leave in thirty minutes. You’re probably thinking about what clothes you have left in your closet and if Pochi ate breakfast.” 

“…Am I that predictable?” 

Sunghoon shakes his head and moves his hand up your thigh. “I’d like to think I’ve picked up a thing or two after knowing you all these years. You’re not the only one who observes, you know.” 

“Hmph.”

“Relax for me, okay?” He brings his other hand up to your cheekbone and caresses that spot. “I’m not in a rush. We don’t have meetings or anything important on my docket today.”

“You looked at my calendar, didn’t you?” 

He grins. “Might’ve taken a peek. It’s connected to mine anyway.” 

Sunghoon’s blankets are keeping you warm and toasty, and his touch feels like you’re being lulled to sleep. You find yourself at odds with the idea that Sunghoon could convince you to relax at this hour, especially when you have to stop by your apartment before going into the office. It’s not like anyone would notice either. Sunghoon’s colleagues are in and out of the building all day, some of whom don’t show up until late morning or early afternoon on account of personal business. You aren’t worried about what other assistants might think either, as you’re the assistant who has been there the longest. With the hierarchy system in place, it’s more believable that you’re in business with Sunghoon than being in bed with him.

Yet, some part of you doesn’t like that you’re breaking the routine you’ve built over the years. You’ve never spent the night at anyone’s place, much less on a weekday, and you don’t enjoy the fact that you haven’t seen Pochi. 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten my promise,” Sunghoon says, pulling you out of your cycle of thoughts. He’s perched on the side of the bed with his elbow resting comfortable on the pillows and you look at him quizzically.

“What promise?” 

The look he gives you is akin to the way he looked at you last night. Suddenly, the memory of his hard dick straining against his sweatpants comes to mind. You’ve been so distracted by Sunghoon’s lips and sweet talking that you nearly forgot about the way he felt in between your legs. Sure, the fabric of your clothes acted as a barrier, but nothing could ever hide the way his dick felt pressed right against your covered cunt. 

Sunghoon leans down close to your ear like he’s trying to tell you a secret. You feel his breath touch the shell of your ear and that alone is enough to make you squirm. He must know, and you can tell by the way Sunghoon digs his fingertips into your skin just a little.

“I told you I’d make you cum today. Will you let me?”

Your mouth runs dry. You look up at Sunghoon and there’s nothing humorous about the way he’s watching you. His eyes are a deep shade of brown that stare directly into yours like he’s trying to hold himself back from being too hasty. It’s almost alarming that he’s being so forward with you at this moment. There’s not a hint of shyness that you can detect, unlike how you feel with your heart beating too fast and your uneven breath. 

Would it be so bad to indulge yourself in his request? It’s not like you’re getting any action beyond the quiet of your bedroom or with the only vibrator you bought yourself after a short stint of bad sex. The fact that he’s your boss is out the window. You know what his dickprint feels like and you’ve practically memorized the way his lips feel when they’re pressed against yours. There shouldn’t be any harm in letting Sunghoon pleasure you when that’s all he seems to want. 

Sunghoon watches you spread your legs from underneath the covers and grins to himself. He helps push the comforter off just enough to expose your legs to him. 

“Can I take these off?” he asks, fingers removing themselves from your thigh to the waistband of the shorts you’re wearing. He traces the hem and you suck in your stomach at the feeling of his hand being so close to where you crave him the most. 

You consent quietly because of the intensity of his gaze. He looks like he’s moments away from devouring you whole, like a boa constrictor who’s locked eyes on its prey. The shorts come off and he tosses them behind him, and you try not to care that he’s haphazardly throwing clothes he’s taken off of your body to focus on the moment. 

Like an instinct, you close your legs when you realize you’re only wearing underwear. They’re plain black cotton, nothing exceptionally fancy since you didn’t plan on having anyone see them. Sunghoon doesn’t rush hastily. He slips his large, warm hand between your knees and slowly guides himself up your legs until your body starts to relax. 

He must feel how nervous you are. It has nothing to do with him and everything to do with the lack of intimacy you’ve received in the past couple of years. It’s like your body locks on itself at this foreign sensation of somebody else’s hand on your body, even if it’s consensual and yearned for. 

He doesn’t rush, nor does he immediately push his hand towards your covered cunt. Sunghoon bends down to capture your mouth in a slow kiss, his plump lips pushing against yours like he’s trying to talk to you with his body. You’re not sure what to focus on—how smooth his hands are or how wet your mouth is becoming—but it all feels so good. For somebody who is as touch deprived as you are, it feels like a million sensations all at once. 

Sunghoon moves up the expanse of your thigh when your body starts to relax against him. Whether it be the sound of your lips smacking echoing through the room or getting used to his hands, your legs start to part before him. Sunghoon doesn’t break the kiss like you think he will. His palm slides up your leg until the edge of his fingers barely brush against your panties, and that alone is enough to make you gasp against his lips. 

“Want me there?” he asks through the kiss. “Need me there?” 

You can barely pay attention to his words when his hand is hovering above you. Sunghoon’s fingers trace the outline of your covered cunt and his seductive caress makes you squirm and buck your hips with every passing touch. When you manage to nod, he rubs you with the pads of his finger. 

Sunghoon’s touch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It’s determined, almost like he’s got a mission he needs to complete. His fingers aren’t hesitant and scared to touch you like men from your past. Sunghoon’s touch is calculated and meaningful. He’s urgent about it, but unlike all the times you’ve had sex before, this doesn’t feel like he’s trying to get you off as quickly as possible before he gets his turn. 

Instead, it feels like Sunghoon might be as desperate as you are. He keeps a cool exterior for the most part and doesn’t allow others to see him let go of himself completely. You’ve been around him long enough to see cracks in his office persona, but Sunghoon maintains an air of professionalism when he’s not asking you to help him in his personal life, which doesn’t happen as often as people think it does. 

He brushes his thumb over your sensitive clit and it has your hips bucking by his touch. You’re embarrassed by how much he’s turning you on, and he hasn’t done anything yet. Are you that depraved? 

Before you know it, Sunghoon’s hand covers the entirety of your cunt. You marvel at how big his hands are and ask yourself why you’ve never noticed them before. He’s got his expensive black plated watch with silver accent on, the one he wears everyday without fail, and you tense. Something about Sunghoon’s accessory puts you in a frenzy. 

“You’re so worked up,” he says with a short laugh. “When’s the last time you relaxed?” 

“I don’t relax.” 

He tuts. “That’s your first problem. You don’t let go.” 

Well, it’s hard with so little time and too many obligations. Sunghoon probably knows it too, but that won’t stop him from reprimanding you for pushing yourself past your limit. 

“God, you’re so wet already. I can feel you through your panties.” His words nearly have you choking. Since when is Sunghoon bold like this? Is he like this with other girls, too?

Sunghoon pushes them aside and eyes your bare cunt. It makes you feel shy, which isn’t something you feel very often when you’re with him. But at this moment, you feel like you’re out to gain some kind of approval from him because he’s looking at it like he’s trying to inspect it. Knowing you didn’t prepare yourself for him to look at your naked lap makes you feel somewhat awkward and unprepared, but Sunghoon looks like he couldn’t care less. You pulsate around him and he groans quietly when he notices.

“That’s so good,” Sunghoon mutters as the tips of his fingers slide down your entrance, coating himself in your wet slick. The subtle intrusion makes your head spin. “Do you always get this wet?”

“W-Well, it’s been a long time since anyone touched me the way you are.” 

He grins. “Do your fingers not work?” 

“Sunghoon. This is so embarrassing.” You try to cover your face with a spare pillow, but he laughs and tosses it away from you.

“Surely my fingers will do the job. Yours are so much smaller and shorter than mine.” 

Sunghoon pushes his middle finger into you and stops when it’s half way inside. He watches you from where he sits and watches your breath hitch by how your chest has nearly stilled. 

You don’t protest nor push him away and he takes it as a sign to push his finger deeper. Sunghoon feels your smooth walls envelop him the more he maneuvers his finger in and out of your pussy, and you don’t know if you love or hate the way Sunghoon is smiling down at you. It’s like he knows he’s got you underneath his spell when he’s got you acting like this. 

“Doing so well,” Sunghoon mumbles, tongue licking the corners of his mouth as he salivates at the sight before him. His abdomen tenses and his dick swells in his pants. “Can’t believe you’ve been hiding her from me.” 

Your face warms up when he talks about your cunt like that. But it makes you gush even more, and it starts to splash onto Sunghoon’s wrist the more he thrusts into you. 

He adds another finger and cherishes the deep, loud moan that comes from deep within your chest. Your hands brace his free arm when he picks up the pace until the entire room sounds like plat plat plat. Sunghoon expertly curves his finger until he’s reaching parts of you that you’ve always thought to be unreachable. 

His forehead starts to sweat and his arm flexes. Every vein in his arm comes to your view and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers when you truly notice how well-built Sunghoon is. He’s got muscles and biceps that make you wonder what it would be like for him to pin you underneath his body. 

“Shit,” you curse. “C-Can’t believe you’re good at this.” 

He smiles wickedly. “I’m good at everything, aren’t I?” 

“Not good at checking your texts. Not good at that.” You yelp when Sunghoon thrusts his fingers inside of you at a faster speed. It’s pushing you towards your orgasm the more he moves.

“What was that?” he asks with his ear turned towards you as you gasp for air. “What did you say?”

“Not good at texting.” You manage to say it between harsh breaths but it seems to egg him on even more. Sunghoon pushes his hand harder against you until the heel of his palm rubs against your clit.

“Not good at texting? Who says I need to text you, anyway?”

“I do,” you choke, holding onto his arm as your nails dig crescents into his skin. “You need me.” 

“I need you?” His fingers don’t let up. You nod anyway.

“Brat,” Sunghoon mocks. “But you’re right. I do need you.” 

The way you clench around him makes him yearn to see you come undone like the beautiful mess he knows you can be. His hand aches from fingering you at lightning speed, but he’ll be damned if he stops now.

“Need you to cum more than anything,” he says while chuckling. “I need that.” 

Sunghoon says it halfway between desperation and with arrogance like he knows he’ll get what he wants. He knows you won’t fight him on it either because he knows how badly you want to cum. If not by the way you grip his body, then because you’ve mentioned how many times people have left you high and dry over the past few years. It seems unfair to edge you right now.

It doesn’t take much for you to crash. He stills his fingers when he realizes you’ve come to your orgasm, letting your hips rut against his palm as you chase your high. Coming undone before him is a beautiful sight to see and Sunghoon drinks in the way your hands move from his arm to the bedsheets underneath you. You try to grip onto them for stability as your hips grind against his hand while you finish on him. 

When your eyes open, the room has gotten significantly lighter from the sun peeking through the sheer curtains. Sunghoon has made you forget about the time. You push your head up and pucker your lips for a kiss. He gives into your request right away and gently rubs your aching cunt, pushing your panties where they belong before kissing and touching you slowly.  

“You’re so hot when you cum.”

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” you mutter against his kisses.

“Nuh uh. Just you.” 

“Mhm. I’ll believe that for now.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t get up until he’s sure you’ve returned to a state of consciousness and doesn’t leave your side until you sit up by yourself. He keeps his mouth attached to you while you steady your breath and find it in you not to feel completely mortified that you’ve allowed yourself to be vulnerable in front of him. He doesn’t seem to hear your racing thoughts when you’re kissing him, and you feel your worries ebbing away. You don’t think you’re ready to decipher why that is.

He brings a rag soaked with warm water and pries your legs open with little resistance. Sunghoon gently wipes your inner thigh and pulls your panties aside again, cleaning your cum from your skin. This makes you feel more self conscious compared to his fingers rooted deep inside of you, but you try not to look away. Sunghoon looks calm and focused, like he’s getting paid a lot of money to look after you. He spends a bit of time making sure you’re all cleaned up before throwing the rag in an empty hamper. 

“Let’s get going, hm?” Sunghoon says absentmindedly when you stand from the bed. He doesn’t make a fuss about his dick straining in his sweatpants and steps out of the room before you can even think about returning the favor. Sunghoon moves around his house like you’ve been there a million times before. 

“We still need to go to your place. Is there a café by your place that you like? We can stop for breakfast before heading into the office.” 

His nonchalance pleasantly surprises you. But you think you prefer his attentive care over being left alone in bed to deal with the aftermath of feeling alone once your partner has left the room. Sunghoon doesn’t leave until he’s sure you’re walking behind him.

It’s nice.

***

Nabi texts you just before you and Sunghoon leave his place to lets you know Pochi is back in your apartment with breakfast and a new bowl of water, and attached a cute video of Pochi jumping onto bee favorite spot on your couch. It makes you coo out loud, to which Sunghoon laughs at.

“You really love this cat, don’t you?”

“Pochi is my child, Sunghoon. Of course I love her.” 

“When did you adopt her?”

“The third year I worked for you.” You’re stuck between looking at him and the scenery outside as he drives to your apartment. “I was pretty lonely after a bunch of my friends moved away from Seoul. My little brother has always told me I resemble a cat growing up and suggested I get one.” 

“Sunoo, right?”

“Yeah. It’s funny though. When we were younger, our personalities were completely switched. I was the extrovert and he was the introvert. Seems like we changed over time.” 

“Why does he think you’re like a cat?”

“I don’t like being around people very much and it’s hard for me to open up to strangers. He jokes that I have to be the one to warm up to people before anyone can really get to know me.” 

“So, what, you need people to leave you alone before you decide you like them?”

You laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

“That’s funny. I think I’d describe you as a lion.” 

“A lion?”

“Still a cat, just more powerful. You run the hell out of my inbox.” 

You roll your eyes. “Haha. So funny, Sunghoon.”

“I’m serious! You’re so good with meeting new people and getting them under your fold. I would’ve never assumed you don’t like being around people with how good you are at making connections.” 

“It’s for work, though. I turn on the charm because it’s good for business. At the end of the day, we all use each other just a little bit. In my personal life? I guess I can make a friend or two, but there’s never any time to meet new people.”

“This job eats you alive, doesn’t it? I feel the same way sometimes.” 

“It’s fun and it makes my week interesting. I’ll give it that.”

“It’s time for something new, huh?”

“Yeah. It is.”

Sunghoon swallows the unwanted feelings that creep into his mind. 

“How do I get your cat to like me?” he asks suddenly. 

“My cat?” 

“Yup. Who else?”

“Why do you want to get in her good graces?” 

“I don’t want to get mauled when I meet her for the first time.” 

You laugh. “You won’t get mauled, Sunghoon. She’s pretty shy and it takes her some time to get to know new people.” 

“Sounds just like you.” 

“Mhm. We’re twins.” 

“Seriously, though,” he says, glancing at you. “I’ve never been around cats much. My parents are dog people. How do I get a cat to like me and not spook them?” 

“Well, your best bet is to ignore their existence until they come up to you. They’re a hunting breed, you know. You shouldn’t make any sudden movements if you can help it. If you find yourself making eye contact with Pochi, blink slowly. It lets her know you aren’t a threat.” 

“Ignore your cat?”

“Foolproof way to get her to be okay with you in the room if I’m not there.” 

“It sounds like you’re trying to set me up.”

You gasp. “Why the hell would I do that?” 

“I don’t know!” Sunghoon says with humor. “Maybe you’re trying to get back at me for all the years we’ve worked together. You and Pochi could’ve made an alliance to kill me.” 

“Right,” you say sarcastically. “Me and my domesticated cat want to put a hit out on you, even though she’s a fraction of your size and I’m trying to help you find a new assistant.”

“Exactly. See? You’re following my logic.”

“You’re so stupid.” 

Sunghoon pulls up to your complex and parks his car on the street underneath a large tree. You make a split second decision and invite him up to your apartment so he doesn’t have to wait in the car and waste his gas by keeping the engine on to avoid sitting in the frigid air. He doesn’t make a joke like you think he will, especially since Sunghoon made you come an hour ago. Instead, he nods and follows you through the front door. 

The journey to your third floor apartment is nerve wracking. Is your apartment tidy enough? Is it clean? Is there any lingering dust that Sunghoon will notice? His house is far cleaner than your apartment will ever be, and while you pride yourself on keeping a tidy home, your two hands are no competition for the cleaning crew Sunghoon hires every week.

He seems excited enough. Sunghoon fills the silence by vocalizing his observations and particularly likes that your lobby has a state-of-the-art machine that can prepare coffee and espresso in various different ways. He likes that the mailroom is safeguarded by a touch key entrance and likes how the lobby is decorated. 

When the two of you arrive at your apartment, you hear Pochi meowing from the other side of the door. To your pleasure, your space isn’t as messy as you thought it might be, save for the throw blanket you forgot to fold after watching an episode of Castlevania. Pochi jumps down from the armrest and waddles her way to your feet when Sunghoon enters your apartment and closes the door behind him. 

You’re too busy locking the door and crouching down to sift your hand through her soft fur to notice Sunghoon surveilling your apartment like he’s in a museum. He sees your dark green couch and all of the decor you have in frames. The living room is far smaller than his, but he thinks it represents who you are perfectly. 

“I missed you, baby,” you say as Sunghoon looks down to where your body is and takes off his shoes one by one while Pochi rubs her small body against your ankles. You’re cute when you talk like that. 

“Why’d you name her ‘Pochi’?” he asks when you make your way deeper inside of your apartment. He watches you throw your jacket on the back of the couch while Pochi follows and climbs up the piece of furniture to get closer to you. 

“Pochi means ‘spot’ in Japanese,” you tell him. “You see these spots on her ears? I thought she looked so cute and unique when I saw her at the animal shelter. We bonded pretty quickly and I would always kiss both of her ears when we were first getting to know each other. She gets annoyed if I don’t kiss both of them and only one.”

“Really?” 

“Mhm. Watch.” 

Your lips come to touch her ear. You pull back soon after and Sunghoon watches Pochi sit back and watch you with the other side of her head like she’s waiting for the other kiss. When you don’t move to complete the routine, Pochi meows until you relent and kiss her other ear too. 

“She’s so cute. Pochi might as well be my daughter with how well she listens to me.” 

“You’d look cute with a girl.”

You look at Sunghoon, bewildered. 

“You’re certifiably crazy, Park Sunghoon.” 

He just shrugs. “I’m just saying.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Let me change my clothes and put some makeup on, then we can head out. Make yourself at home. It shouldn't be more than ten minutes.” 

When you disappear, Sunghoon hears the faint click of your bedroom door and walks to your couch to sit. He can hear you walking in your room in the dead silence of the morning when Pochi looks at him like she’s trying to figure out if he’s a threat or not. He follows your instructions when she tilts her head and looks away from her. 

Sunghoon notices pictures that line your fireplace. He doesn’t recognize anybody except for you, but adores the way he can see how much you’ve grown up. There are pictures of you and your childhood friends together, one of you he assumes is on vacation, and a few of you and your college friends littered throughout your space. It makes him realize there’s more to you than meets the eye, and for as long as he’s known you, Sunghoon gets the feeling he’s only scratched the surface.

He also tries not to think about the fact that his hands know what you feel like. Flashes of the early morning run through his mind. He loves the way you sound when you’re about to climax and had to keep himself in check before he made any rash decisions that the two of you would later regret. Sunghoon shifts in his seat and does his best to will his yearning because the last thing he wants is to sport a boner around Pochi, just for you to walk out and see him like that. What would you think of him then?

From the corner of Sunghoon’s eye, he sees Pochi grooming herself and tries to blink slowly when she makes eye contact with him. He feels silly and looks away when he starts to laugh at himself. In all of his years working with you, Sunghoon never thought he’d be playing nice with your cat. 

You emerge from your bedroom looking polished, and Sunghoon is impressed you were able to pull yourself together in fifteen minutes.  

“How do I look? Presentable enough?”

His eyes glance up and down your body. 

“Stunning as ever.” 

“Be serious, Sunghoon.” 

He walks to you and puts both of his hands on your hips, dragging them down to your waist before pulling your body flush against his.

“I’m serious. So gorgeous.” 

He learns in and slots his lips between yours, gently holding your body against himself. You get lost in it too, recalling the way Sunghoon’s fingers felt inside of you as he squeezes your body. The familiar ache emerges before you can even think about it, and you find yourself clenching against absolutely nothing. You think you’re somewhere between desperate and pathetic at this point, but Sunghoon can’t see or feel you down there for you to give a shit. 

“We should get breakfast,” you mumble against his mouth. 

“We should.” He doesn’t stop kissing you and your hands come to gently grip the lapel of his suit jacket. 

“There’s a place around the corner. Killer croissants and good espresso.” 

“Mhm.” Sunghoon pulls your arms away from his body to turn you around and press your ass right against his crotch, effectively caging you against his body while his lips litter short kisses down your neck. “Could eat you for breakfast, though.”

The moan that escapes your throat makes you feel embarrassed, but it makes Sunghoon’s pride swell. 

“W-Work,” you choke out as Sunghoon’s hand touches you above your work trousers. His fingers make out the ridges of your folds and slots his index finger between them. “We need to get to work.” 

“You’re no fun.” Sunghoon pouts and lets you go, but not without giving your cheek a kiss. 

“You are such a fucking menace,” you say as you scold him. “In front of Pochi too?” 

“She wasn’t even looking. Relax.” 

You look and find that Pochi is indeed nowhere to be found. She’s perched on the windowsill behind your curtain and you breathe a short sigh of relief. 

“Did you make nice with her?” 

“I ignored her, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Good,” you say with a definite nod. “She’ll like you in no time.” 

“I’m not so sure about that? It feels counterintuitive to ignore an animal if you want them to get to like you.”

“Cats and dogs are different, though.” You unlock your door and slip your shoes on at the same time after you’ve double checked that everything you need is in your work bag. “Dogs need love and affection all the time. Cats pick and choose when they want to receive it.” 

“Is that why your brother calls you a cat? Because you’re picky about all the people you let into your life?” 

He follows you out and watches you lock the door. 

“Mhm. I wouldn’t have let you touch me if I didn’t want you to.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Don’t think you’re special just because you’re my boss, Park. Keep up.”

“Oh, I intend to.”

***

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[alloftheimaginesblog]

ready (klaus mikaelson)

plot: klaus always knew that one day you'd take him up on his offer.

character: female vampire reader x klaus mikaelson

inspired by something similar he says to caroline

"One day, love, you'll come to me. Might be in two years, might be two hundred but mark my words, you'll realise I was right along. I am the only one who can fulfil your wildest desires and your largest dreams. When you realise that, you'll come knocking on my door and then... well, love, then I'll give you the world."

It had been three and a half years since Klaus Mikaelson had said this to you. Three long years. He'd came into your life as a villain, you were supposed to hate him. He had killed, harmed and tortured so many of your friends (and his sister had tortured you a fair few times) and yet, he was always so delicate and gentle with you. He'd been interested in you pretty much ever since he came to Mystic Falls. You'd hated him... or at least, you tried.

He had gotten under your skin all of those years ago. He'd saved you too many times to count. He had shown you kindness and compassion, had recognised you for who you were; Klaus had seen you. You'd gotten to see a glimpse of the human side to him, not the scary big bad wolf, you'd started to see him. And when he left, with an invite extended your way, it took everything in you to say no.

Klaus hadn't stepped foot in Mystic Falls since he left and yet, every few months or so, he would write to you. Seldom did you respond but you enjoyed reading about his travels. Each time he wrote, he would send photos of the new place he was visiting usually with a list of reasons as to why you'd love it there with drawings he'd done and every single time he wrote, he attached a plane ticket to whatever destination with your name on it. You never used them, instead they gathered dust in a drawer which was full of his old letters. Klaus also always wrote exactly where he was staying at the end of the letter so you knew exactly how to get to him. Periodically, you'd go through and read some of them. They always smelled like him and had the same send off each time.

'Unequivocally yours, Klaus'

You knew that if you needed him, he would be there immediately. He had promised you as such. And the one time you called for help when Caroline got bit by a werewolf, Klaus couldn't be there in person but he sent Elijah with a few vials of his blood (extras for any future emergencies). He would do anything for you and all he wanted was the chance to show you as such.

So when this month's letter arrived with details of his new adventure complete with a plane ticket to Italy, you decided to take the chance you'd regretted not taking three and a half years prior. Your friends were oddly supportive which surprised you but Bonnie had told you she wanted you to be happy and if he's what made you happy then so be it. Damon wasn't impressed but he rarely ever was. Stefan urged you to your happy ending. Caroline approved, she'd seen the way Klaus would've done anything for you so even though she didn't like him, she knew that he was the real deal. Elena was supportive, she'd gone for the 'bad guy' in Damon so she understood the inner conflict and told you that it was okay to let yourself be happy.

So, you packed a bag and headed to Italy.

Getting there was the easy bit; the hard bit was finding the courage to knock on the front door. Your heart hammered in your chest as you stood on the grounds of what you could only describe as a small castle. It was beautiful, with glorious gardens and fragrant flowers. You swallowed hard before taking a breath, this is what you came for, and you knocked three times.

After a few seconds, you could hear someone's voice approaching. Klaus.

"-I didn't ask you to go to such lengths, brother, though I have to say I do appreciate it-"

He opened the door and his expression turned from one of mild annoyance to complete shock.

"Elijah, more important matters have emerged, I'll speak to you later." He hung up, pocketing his phone quickly. He looked good. The Italian sun suited him, turning his hair a shade blonder and making his blue eyes pop, "(y/n)..." A slow, wide smile spread onto his face.

You swallowed hard, "Hi, Klaus."

He stepped aside, silently inviting you into his castle, and with a small smile you breezed past him. He closed the door and led you through to a grand room with various couches and paintings. You looked around incredulously, "This place... it's incredible."

Klaus smiled, "I told you that you'd like this one."

You looked at him and felt nerves bubble in your stomach. You'd came all this way and now... you didn't know what to do. Klaus eyed you curiously, trying to gauge how you were feeling, "Do you need something?" Oh, how he hoped that you were here for him but he had to be sure.

You shook your head, finding words too hard to find, and instead looked back to the paintings, "These are beautiful, did you do these?"

Klaus appeared at your side, making you jump slightly, "Sorry, love," he smirked. He was so close to you, so near that you could smell his cologne. Your heart raced. His hand reached out past you to touch the painting, "I painted all of these, yes. This one is my favourite."

"The colours are lovely," you nodded.

Klaus smiled, quickly vanishing and then returning to your side, "Here, look in the mirror and then look at the painting."

You frowned at him but complied regardless of your confusion. He handed you a small hand mirror which you looked into and then at the painting, "I don't get it," you said to which he urged you to look again and then you realised, "my eyes."

Klaus grinned, "There we go, love," he beamed proudly, "my favourite colours and shades to use. They crop up a lot in my paintings. Go, look," he encouraged you forwards, "take a look and you'll see how often you feature in my paintings."

For a moment, you walked around the room, soaking in the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) hints of your eye colour in every single one of his paintings. It touched you causing you to feel warm inside and you couldn't understand why. You looked at him. He stood on the other side of the room watching you with awe filled eyes, "But why?" You asked softly with tears filling your eyes, "Why me?"

In an instant, he was in front of you, chest touching yours, with his eyes locked with yours, "Oh, love," he whispered, hand reaching out to graze your cheek softly, "It's always been you."

You looked up at him, "You asked me if I needed something earlier." Klaus's brow furrowed and his hand stilled - fear; fear that you weren't here for him, fear that you needed something and then you'd disappear again. "I do need something, Klaus."

"Anything."

"I want... I need you." Your admission was quiet but he heard you loud and clear, "For years, I've regretted saying no to your offer to come with you. I want to live, Klaus. I want to be free. I want to be happy and that means letting myself be happy with... you."

"Me?" Klaus asked.

You nodded as your own hand found its way to rest on his chest, "I'm ready to fall in love with you, Klaus. I just hope I'm not too late."

He grinned, wider than you'd ever seen him smile, "You're right on time, love," he said before his lips crashed to yours. And for the first time ever, you let yourself give in.

[sh1-n0bu]

i have noticed a small pattern of elves being on my latest fictional character obsessions and HEAR ME OUT!!

elf who has lived for hundreds upon thousands of years, who had experienced many of the things the world has to offer. sadness of bidding hundreds of farewells to the beauty of life and alliance of different races

elf who even after all his years of living still yet to find a love for himself. regal and seemingly detached to the concepts of relationships elves may be, even they get lonely. some nights feeling a little bit too long, a little bit too cold as they add another layer of blanket over themselves or reaching over to hug one of his puffy pillows like how he would hug his future lover. the coldness of being immortal seeping into his bones and making him shiver despite elves being above the concept of getting sick or feeling the cold temperatures

elf who runs into you by some chance meeting. maybe you were walking in the territory of elves without knowing it, maybe he purposely goes to human residences and towns, seeking adventure, excitement and change of pace. who immediately is enamored by you just by your smile that you flash his way, a kind one, a gentle one, to a nearby passenger. who falls in love with the callouses of your hand, the freckles, the small scars, the little bits of imperfection that marked you as clearly human, very much mortal, very much brittle but still with your own strength that he hasn’t felt before

elf bf who starts to court you the moment he realizes that you weren’t seeing anyone, bringing small gifts, exchanging knowledge, singing you soft ancient lullabies that no other mortal has ever heard before. maybe he finds himself writing a poem about you one day, describing your looks, your feelings, your everyday actions that you may see as mundane but ones he sees as just as courageous and beautiful in their own ways

elf bf who has never seen human flesh or bare skin before, finding the rippling biceps and toned legs of yours to be… curious. a tentative finger touching the muscles here and there, stopping you mid work as he inquires about them in a soft tone. elves of course were magical beings, blessed with magic and eternity and had no need to develop visible physical muscles till the point they become buff or beefy to some extent all due to their magic and ancient powers. the tips of his pointy ear twitching softly, eyes wide in wonder as you explain that contrary to his kin, your own develop muscles if they are put to work in physically demanding job for enough time

elf bf who over time, finds himself obsessively scribbling down any sort of new information about human anatomy on a journal, always asking you new things as he finds himself able to learn more despite having been alive for hundreds upon thousands of years. tracing the old faded scars on your body with the tip of his finger, counting the freckles, kissing the stretch marks as they were all you. regardless of how you see it, to him it was all you, together and healthy. you were alive even if you may have battle scars and he always makes sure to thank the stars as it was thanks to the tribulations you have conquered that you two were here now. staring eye to eye, touching your foreheads together as you whisper about mundane things

elf bf who one day sees you cut down a tree, cut a log off or prepare firewood and finds that he was imagining the bulge of your muscles against himself. big arms caging him in a bear hug, legs to support him and strong back that he could sink his nails into as he moans under you— hold. since when has his thoughts of you turned… impure? since when has he become turned on? sitting there on one of the logs with a painful strain against his pants as he swallowed the saliva that gathered in his jaw down, tearing his gaze away. no no, he really shouldn’t think of you as such, you were still in courting phase after all and elves were a race that took their romances and courting extremely important

yet regardless of his kin’s customs and traditions, your pretty elf bf couldn’t help but continue to stare. his gaze constantly seeking your figure out, seeing you just go through the motions of every life peacefully while he gets pathetically turned on by your actions as if he was still but a fledgling who learned of a kiss. chopping down trees for firewood, maybe you would work in front of a fire or heat for too long and get sweaty, removing one of the overtunics. maybe you’re just simply dragging a bucket full of water from the well, cranking the pulley as the muscles on your arms and back strained

elf bf who finds himself extremely aroused as his mind wanders to the gutters as he just shamelessly stares at your working form. oh, to feel those calloused hands touch his colder skin, palms smoothening over his creamy skin, and down his chest, his stomach and over his bulge. maybe you would tease the poor thing, tease him of how quick he is to get aroused, the pre of his half-hard cock weeping through his underwear and pants like he was some sore pathetic loser. a little virgin. bully him about being unable to use his cock, make him whine at your mean words as his hips weakly buckle under your exploratory hands

elf bf who couldn’t help but imagine the usual sweetness of your attitude gone, replaced by one that was just a tad bit meaner as you pushes his face down into the pillows of your bed, force his hands to stretch open his puckering hole for you to fuck senselessly. imagining you whispering all sorts of filth into his twitching ears, promising to breed him full, to use him to your heart’s content all night long as he whines and squeals like a little lamb caught in the nest of a hungry wolf. who couldn’t swallow down the quiet whimper coming from his throat as he imagined your hand grasping at his long locks, fisting it tightly as you yank him back, forcing him to arch his back and push the tip of your cock to bruise his guts even more

elf bf who waves off your worry when you had managed to hear the embarrassing noise that slipped past his lips, saying that he was having a bit of a sore throat. gods, he would love to actually whimper from having a sore throat of getting his mouth plowed all day by your fat cock head forcing his jaws wiiideee open

elf bf who couldn’t help but get a little needy in his kisses since then. hands that touched your muscles with curiosity now running over your skin as if trying to feebly seduce you. dropping things to the ground a bit too many times, following you close behind even as you told him that some of the work you needed to do required space and for him to be away for his own safety. who straddles your lap all snug, pushing his chest flush against your own as your simply daily evening kisses after dinner becomes a bit too heated. he definitely had little to no experience with the way his tongue kept licking at your lips meagerly, long fingers curling over your shoulders tightly while his bucking hips on your lap as he starts to get hard again

elf bf who has finally had enough of just his meager imaginations, tugging on the strings of your white tunic with shaky hands as he rambles about touching you, you touching him, feeling him, using him — anything dammit! use those hands of yours on him!

elf bf who soon realizes that he had perhaps bitten off more than he could chew when your hands grip at his hips, dragging his clothed cock against your thigh that had him whining like a cat in heat. meagerly, he tries to replicate what you just made him do, dragging his hips back and forth on your thigh but he all but just looks like an inexperienced bunny. which he probably was judging by the things he spoke to you about himself

elf bf who finds so much pleasure in simply grinding against your thigh for now, the precum of his now hard cock weeping through his pants, staining it into a darker color. all cute and red in the face that spread to his pointy ears, cute high pitched whines falling from his chewed up pink lips. a cute, surprised “a-aahn♡︎??” echoing in the room as you pull his eager body against your own. your chest to his back, hands loosely draped over the hip bone of his

elf bf who lets out the most embarrassing high pitched squeals when your hands travel up his body under his clothes, traveling more and more until teasing at his nipples. rolling your fingertips against the soft areola, squeezing and fondling his pecks as if they were breasts. who jolts in place when you pinch at the hardened buds, tugging at them to test the waters as he arches his back off of your chest, a filthy mewl falling as if he was being fucked stupid already

elf bf who blubbers out uncharacteristic words of “s-shensiitiivgh♡︎ n-no, don’t pinch the-eeengk♡︎♡︎!“ his pleads of your rough hands not torturing his sensitive nipples being replaced with an open mouthed wail when you place a kiss to the pointy tip of his ear. his ears were so sensitive! you knew that and now you were just being downright mean to him as you whisper filth into his ears of acting like a cooped up virgin for merely getting his chest played with. he wasn’t! he was way older than you! slurring out “how c-could you be sooh m-meanngk…♡︎?” as you lick a slow stripe up the pointy helix

elf bf who bucks his hips on your thigh, trying to bounce, trying to move away but ending up whining as his clothed cock grazes against your hardened muscles again. his cute nipples being tortured and groped by your hands, the delicate helix of his ears being assaulted by your wet kisses and licks. any time your hot breath spoke into his ears of how he was such a precious little thing, just like a bunny in heat, he would try to wiggle away. shaking his head with a weak sniffle, his mind churning into a mush as all he could do was to pathetically fuck his cock into your thigh, letting out a soft mewl everytime you buck your leg up to meet his shy excuse of thrusts, jumping in place

elf bf whose minds and body starts to feel weird. the room feeling stifling and your touch making his own skin heat up too much. who tries to tell you that he was feeling ‘odd’ and concerned, yet only to harshly thrust his hips back into your own arousal. eyes widening, a shudder running down his spine at the feeling. still clothed and hidden like his own but good grief, it just felt… so huge since he was sure your human dick couldn’t possibly be much bigger than his own. but no, it got him gulping down the saliva in his mouth

elf bf who bounces himself experimentally onto your own hardened, covered dick, feeling his balls brush against where he guesses is the tip of your strap. his earlier cute whines growing in volume as your torture of his sensitive spots grow worse, groping, squeezing, calling him too eager to get fucked, making him dumb and airheaded. the constant tugs to his chest, the words you spat into his mind so lovingly and the small actions of your hips thrusting up to meet his own weaker excuse of grinding

elf bf who’s voice grow more and more breathier, who finally loses it as he throws himself back against your chest, his head on your shoulder as he let out a wail of “h-hoowt!! t-too ahgg♡︎ haah anhg t-too hoounwt...♥︎!” as he cums into his pants, dirtying the material as a single glob or two of his sweet transparent arousal oozes out through the linen. the dark patch growing into a considerable size, his body racked with twitches and jolts as he cums untouched on your lap. precious little thing getting drunk on the feeling of sex and physical pleasure so much till the point he disregards all of his traditions, bending himself over onto the bed, his hand reaching back to tug you forward by the belt with a desperate whine and a cute blown wide pupils and twitching ears♡︎

⇨ meludir, lindir, legolas, maglor, mairon + whoever you like

[misty-petals]

You are everything to me, you know?

|Go Hyuntak (Gotak) x Fem!Reader

|Slow burn, Friends to lovers, jealousy, Declaration

English is not my first language.

You had known Gotak forever. Since the days he wore sneakers too big for his feet and turned red whenever the teacher asked him to read out loud. He grew up — and so did you — but something between you two never changed: he was always there. Like a silent rock. A safe harbor.

It was the kind of friendship no one dared question, even though many whispered behind your backs:

— "Are they sure they're just friends?" — they'd whisper in the hallways.

And you’d answer with an awkward smile. Because deep down… not even you were sure anymore.

Gotak never talked about it either. He just stayed by your side, holding your backpack when you were tired, waiting for you in silence after class, protecting you from anyone who crossed the line.

But things started to change.

Especially after a new student — Jinwoo — joined your class. He was kind, funny, and started chatting with you every day. Harmless... until Gotak began clenching his jaw every time he got near.

— "Gotak?" — you called out one day after class, feeling the strange tension in the air.He barely looked at you.

— "Hm?"

— "Are you okay?"

He finally looked straight at you. His gaze was intense, heavy, like it carried a bunch of words he’d never dared to say.

— "You've been spending a lot of time with that guy from your class. The idiot who keeps trying to make you laugh."

You blinked.

— "He's just a friend."

— "I don’t like him." — His voice was quieter. Almost hoarse. — "I don’t like how he looks at you."

Your heart skipped a beat.

You tried to play it cool, but the silence between you already said everything.

That day, Gotak didn’t walk you home. And you watched his back disappear around the corner, feeling like something was missing from your chest.

Two days later, he showed up in front of your house. Backpack slung over his shoulder, hair tousled by the wind.

— "Can you come down?" — he asked, straight to the point.You came down. He looked more nervous than you’d ever seen him.

— "Did something happen?"He looked away for a second. Then looked back at you, this time with force.

— "I like you."

Simple. Raw. Real.

You felt the air leave your lungs.

— "I’ve liked you for a long time. Way before this Jinwoo guy. Since... way before. But I stayed quiet because I thought you deserved someone better. Someone gentler, who knew how to say beautiful things." — He paused, jaw tense. — "But seeing another guy trying to win you over... it hurt. And I’m an idiot for waiting this long, I know. But if there’s still time..."

Gotak took a deep breath. Closed his eyes for a second, like he was gathering courage.

— "I want to be that someone. I want to see you smile and know I’m the reason. I want to hold your hand, protect you from the world, not just as a friend. As... your boyfriend."

The silence felt like it froze time for a few seconds.

You smiled. Slowly, but with your heart full.

— "You’re an idiot... but you’re my idiot. And yes, I want that."

The relief in his eyes was so pure it made you want to cry. But instead, he stepped closer and pulled you into a tight hug. The kind of hug that said everything he didn’t know how to express in words. His forehead resting against yours. Eyes closed. Heart racing.

Gotak whispered:

— "You’re everything to me, you know?"

You smiled, heart pounding in your chest. You raised a hand to his face, gently caressing his warm cheek.

— "Then stop talking and kiss me already."

He froze for a second — surprised, almost laughing nervously — then leaned in, slowly, like he was afraid to ruin the moment. But once his lips touched yours, all the nervousness vanished.

The kiss was soft at first, shy, like you were both still getting used to the idea that this was really happening. But then came the certainty, the surrender. It was like years of friendship, care, affection, and hidden feelings finally found a place to explode.

He held your face in both hands, keeping you close, like you were the most precious thing in the world. And deep down, that’s exactly what you were to him.

When you pulled apart, both of you were still smiling, breathless.

— "Is it official now?" — you asked softly.

Gotak nodded.

— "Now it’s forever."

And that night, the silence between you was sealed with a kiss — and a new story was finally beginning.

Thank you to everyone who read this far. ⁠♡

[synity]

Don’t Mind Me, It’s Just My Birthday

(seventeen x fem reader)

*slice of life, 14th member, featuring intense emotions, conflict, and vulnerability, mention of an eating disorder*

It was supposed to be her day.

As the 14th member of SEVENTEEN, Y/N had grown used to long hours, sore muscles, and the constant spotlight that came with being an idol. But nothing could have prepared her for how crushing her birthday would feel this year.

The morning began badly. Her alarm didn't go off, and by the time she rushed into the dance practice studio, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, she was already twenty minutes late. Seungcheol glared at her from across the room.

"You're late. Again."

His voice was firm, clipped, and far colder than it needed to be. Y/N opened her mouth to explain maybe even joke about her bad luck but he cut her off. "Save the excuses. Get in formation."

She nodded silently, biting her tongue as she took her place beside Hoshi, who refused to look at her.

The music blasted through the speakers. They danced. And danced. And danced.

Each mistake she made earned her another sharp look, another correction, another exhausting sigh. Hoshi didn’t hide his irritation. Seungcheol called her out in front of everyone.

At the lunch break, she sat in the corner, nibbling on boiled eggs and celery part of the strict diet the staff had forced her on. She was already battling insecurities. But the universe seemed especially cruel today.

"Maybe don’t eat that," one of the stylists muttered, half-joking but cruel nonetheless. "You're already a bit bigger than the other girls. Don’t want to stand out for the wrong reasons."

Y/N's heart dropped.

None of the boys said anything. Mingyu glanced at her awkwardly before looking away. Vernon avoided her eyes. Even Jeonghan her usual safe space seemed too caught up with his phone to notice.

She thought maybe just maybe someone would remember. A hug, a smile, a whispered happy birthday. Anything.

But nothing came.

When the practice resumed, she fumbled. Seungcheol shouted. Hoshi snapped. And she snapped back.

"I'm doing my best, okay?! It's not like anyone gives a damn anyway!"

"Don't act like the world revolves around you," Hoshi shot back.

"Yeah," Seungcheol added. "Everyone's tired. Everyone’s stressed. It’s not just you, Y/N. Grow up."

She walked out.

Tears blurred her vision as she ran to the convenience store down the block. She stood in front of the small cake fridge for ten minutes before settling on a tiny chocolate one with rainbow sprinkles.

Her fingers trembled as she picked up candles: a "2" and a "1." Her 21st birthday.

Back at the dorms, she quietly lit the candles in the shared kitchen while the others were still at practice.

She stared at the flickering lights.

"Happy birthday to me," she whispered, voice cracking.

No music. No smiles. No one.

She didn't even make a wish. Just blew the flames out before they melted too far and watched the smoke curl up into the air.

The cake tasted like cardboard in her mouth.

When the boys finally returned home later that evening, sweaty and loud, no one noticed the box on the counter. No one saw her swollen eyes. No one said a word.

And when she finally mustered the courage to bring it up—one more time her voice barely audible in the living room where they all gathered, she regretted it instantly.

"I know everyone's tired," she said. "But it’s my birthday today. And... it kind of hurt that no one"

Jeonghan raised a brow. "Y/N, really? That’s what you’re upset about?"

"You know we’re all dealing with stuff," Seungkwan chimed in. "You being dramatic won’t help anything."

"The world doesn’t revolve around you," Seungcheol said again, his voice even colder than before.

Someone even told her to shut up.

She stood there, frozen.

No one noticed the tears slipping down her cheeks. No one tried to stop her as she walked to the kitchen, grabbed the uneaten cake from earlier, and dumped it into the trash.

The sound of the plastic container hitting the bin was louder than any scream.

That night, she curled into a ball on her mattress, the sound of muffled laughter from the living room echoing in her ears.

She had never felt more invisible.

because she needed to move forward. Waking up with swollen eyes and a hollow chest, she told herself it was just another day.

When she walked into the practice room, her demeanor had shifted. Y/N was calm, composed, but distant like winter in the middle of July. She greeted everyone with a polite nod, not a smile. Not her usual bubbly good morning. She rehearsed like a machine, each move sharp, emotionless, perfect.

Seungcheol tried to correct her once, and she merely nodded without eye contact. Hoshi offered a bottle of water during a break, and she quietly declined.

The rest of the boys noticed something was wrong. Her laughter the sound that used to brighten the practice room was gone. She didn’t joke with Dino or bicker with Woozi. She didn’t offer to fix Seungkwan’s hair like she usually did or lean on Minghao’s shoulder during breaks.

She had pulled herself away, drawing a clear boundary with silence.

That evening, as they packed up to leave, Vernon lingered by the door, watching her put on her hoodie.

“Y/N…”

She looked up slowly, brows raised.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied with a small, unreadable smile.

But her eyes told a different story.

As she walked past him, Seungcheol stood nearby, guilt evident on his face. He hadn’t slept well. Neither had Hoshi. Or any of them. Something was wrong, and they all felt it. The realization was slowly settling in heavy, remorseful, and too late.

They had hurt her. Deeply. And she wasn’t going to pretend it didn’t happen.

The next day, Y/N woke up and decided she would simply... move on. Or at least pretend to. If they didn’t care, then why should she? She washed her face, tied her hair back, and left her room without a word, walking past the members in the living room with a blank stare. Her steps were silent, movements precise. Not angry. Not even sad. Just... muted.

She no longer cracked jokes in the practice room, no longer shared drinks with Jeonghan or teased Seungkwan. She didn’t ask questions or offer to help during dance practice. She didn’t even bother correcting choreography anymore, even when someone clearly needed it.

Instead, she practiced alone. Ate alone. Sat alone. She became a ghost in her own group.

When she was hungry, she just stared at the food longer than she should have, then picked the smallest portion, nibbled at it, and excused herself. Her daily meals were now a spoon of rice, a boiled egg, and maybe a sip of water if she remembered. Her body felt tired, her limbs heavy, but she pressed on. Because she was dramatic, right? The world didn’t revolve around her.

None of the members noticed at first. They were busy. Busy rehearsing, recording, filming. Too busy to notice that Y/N had stopped singing harmonies or giving morning hugs. Too busy to see that she cried silently in the bathroom before interviews.

But someone did notice.

A junior staff member, one who had always been kind to her, who used to sneak her extra snacks during breaks and call her "lil sis" affectionately, pulled her aside one afternoon.

“Y/N,” he said softly, concern lacing his voice. “Can we talk?”

She blinked slowly. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” he said firmly. “I’ve seen you. You barely eat. You don’t smile anymore. You don’t talk to anyone. You’re fading.”

She bit her lip and looked away.

“I know what happened,” he added, voice quieter now. “I was there. I heard how they spoke to you on your birthday.”

That made her chest tighten.

“You didn’t deserve that.”

A bitter laugh almost escaped her lips, but she swallowed it down. “It’s fine. I was being dramatic, right? The world doesn’t revolve around me.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “But it also doesn’t revolve around them. And you’re a part of this team too. They forgot your birthday, humiliated you, dismissed your feelings. That’s not okay.”

Tears gathered in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now. Not again.

The staff sighed, reaching out to gently place a water bottle in her hand. “Please... take care of yourself. I’m worried about you.”

She nodded slowly, eyes glued to the bottle. She didn’t say thank you. Just nodded. A single, subtle acknowledgment.

One word. One movement. That’s all she gave anyone now.

She had learned. Her feelings didn’t matter. Her problems were hers alone to deal with. So she stayed quiet, buried the pain, and carried the weight on her own shoulders.

And for now, that was enough to survive.

Minghao quietly observed her from across the room. She hadn’t said a word during dinner. Hadn’t laughed once. Not even when Seungkwan tried to be funny. And that was unlike her.

He excused himself from the others and followed her to the balcony where she stood, arms folded, staring at the night sky.

“Y/N,” he said softly.

She glanced over, clearly not expecting him. “Yeah?”

“You’re hurting,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

He walked closer. “You’re not. You haven’t looked anyone in the eyes for two days. You barely eat. You flinch when someone calls your name.”

She clenched her jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

She turned to him, eyes glassy. “Why now? Why do you care now?”

“I always cared,” Minghao said, voice thick with emotion. “I just didn’t realize how bad it had gotten.”

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. “Everyone forgot. Everyone told me I was dramatic. Like my feelings didn’t matter. Like I didn’t matter.”

He stepped forward and gently took her hand. “You matter. More than you know. I’m so sorry we made you feel like you didn’t. We were wrong.”

She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t pull away either. Minghao pulled her into a hug, and after a long pause, she finally let herself cry.

“I’m here now,” he whispered. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

One night, after everyone had gone to bed, he knocked gently on her door.

"Y/N... it's me. Can I come in?"

There was silence, then the soft sound of the lock clicking. She opened the door, her face bare, vulnerable. She looked like she hadn’t slept properly in days.

He walked in quietly and sat on the edge of her bed, patting the space next to him. She hesitated before sitting.

"I miss you," he said honestly. "I miss your laugh. Your smart remarks. The way you call me out when I zone out. I miss my friend."

She looked down. "I'm still here."

A silence fell between them. She clenched her fingers. "I just... I thought I mattered more. And then everyone made me feel like I didn’t. Like I was a burden for caring about one thing that mattered to me. I didn’t want to deal with that again. So I stopped expecting anything."

Minghao exhaled slowly and reached over, wrapping his pinky around hers. "You do matter. We were stupid. We got caught up in everything else and forgot something important you. I forgot. And I’m sorry."

Tears built in her eyes again, but she held them in. "I hate how easy it was for everyone to just forget. I felt so small."

"Then let me help you feel big again. Not because you have to fight for it, but because we were wrong and you deserve better. I’ll fix this with you, okay?"

She finally nodded, leaning her head gently on his shoulder.

The next morning, it started with small gestures. Jun brought her favorite iced tea. Wonwoo invited her to read beside him, no pressure. Jeonghan gave her his hoodie wordlessly when he noticed she was shivering in the studio.

And when Seungcheol stepped into the dance room, he didn't lead the routine. Instead, he bowed deeply.

"I’m sorry, Y/N. I hurt you. We all did. Please let us earn your trust again."

Hoshi stepped forward too, looking deeply ashamed. "You’re not dramatic. You’re not silly. You're family."

Bit by bit, they came back to her. Not with grand gestures, but with sincere, quiet love the kind that proves itself day by day.

And slowly, Y/N started to believe in them again.

[ceoofglytchell]

A Monster‘s Bride

Summary: In the middle of the war, you are urgently called to Harrenhal to finally fulfill your duty and wed the Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen. However, you have heard what man he has become and the haunted halls of the ancient castle are not the only thing you are afraid of.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader

Word count: 5737 words

Warnings: MDNI, Angst, brief dubcon, Reader has Baratheon features, unwanted touch, mean!Aemond (at first), arranged marriage, dark fic, brief suicidal thoughts, secret longing, Alys Rivers making a cameo, brief smut at the end, no mention of Y/N

Notes: My first ever solo Aemond fic! I hope you like it! Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy 💛

The first time Aemond Targaryen kissed you was the night he became a kinslayer.

He was supposed to choose one of the daughters of Lord Borros Baratheon of Storm's End to marry. He looked at all of you, all of your sisters, and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

You were the last.

You had watched him kiss each of your four sisters for a few seconds, but he never showed any reaction. Except maybe with Maris, when he grimaced afterwards.

And then he finally leaned toward you and pressed his lips against yours, his hand resting on your cheek. You stood still, not knowing what to do because you had never been kissed before. By no one. Not even by the stableboy you had liked for a while.

But the prince did not lean back as quickly as he had with your sisters. He sighed against your lips and ran his long fingers through your hair. When he finally pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, you could feel that he had found his answer.

"What is your name?" he whispered, out of breath.

You whispered it to him, and only then did he lean back, a small smile playing on his thin lips. It was the first and last time you would see him smile.

"Well, my prince? I hope one of my daughters is to your liking," said your father, who sat on his throne not far from you, scrutinizing you with eagle eyes.

"I want her," he replied simply, placing a hand on your shoulder, whereupon Lord Baratheon laughed softly.

"My youngest. She inherited her mother's beauty. I assure you that she will make a good wife for you."

Prince Aemond leaned back and let his one violet eye roam over your figure. He did not know how your mother had looked like, but she must have been beautiful. You were by far the most beautiful of your sisters. Long, raven-black hair, pale skin, a light blush that spread across his cheeks, and full lips that begged him to kiss them again. You proudly wore the colors of your house—black and yellow—and looked at him like a small, shy fawn.

He knew immediately that he had made the right choice.

"Please, speak to her. Even if she is quiet, I assure you she has a tongue," Lord Borros laughed, making a hand gesture that indicated to your sisters to step back.

Gently—too gently for a man of his status—he took your arm and led you a few steps away from your father's throne.

"Tell me of your interests, my Lady Baratheon," he demanded, but he did it in such a gentle tone that it did not sound like a demand. He gave you the illusion of a choice.

You hesitated, but then gathered your courage: "I enjoy reading, my prince."

Something flashed in his eye, recognition or perhaps interest. "What exactly?"

"Poetry, my prince. History and philosophy I enjoy as well," you answered him, looking down at the ground beneath your feet. The stone was cold and wet, as it often was these days.

"And beyond? Besides literature. What else excites you?" he asked you, his one watchful eye boring into your soul.

You were just opening your lips to answer him when you suddenly heard the sound of armor striding through the door. The guards had arrived, and among them was a young man—a boy.

He was brown-haired, wore a sword at his hip, held a message, and wore the colors black and red.

Your eyebrows furrowed in question, but you immediately noticed the prince's attention shifting completely away from you and his shoulders tensing.

You quickly learned who this boy was. Lucerys Velaryon. The boy who stole the eye of your betrothed. One of the many bastards of Princess Rhaenyra, who now wanted to be called Queen, even though her half-brother Aegon had only been crowned King a few hours ago.

A war was looming on the horizon, and the thunderstorm raging over Storm's End seemed to be only a harbinger.

"Give me your eye or I will take it, bastard!" your betrothed suddenly shouted, rushing toward the boy, but your father's loud voice held him back.

Lucerys disappeared as quickly as a frightened mouse, and Aemond adjusted his eyepatch, which he had apparently ripped off his face while talking to his nephew.

You did not see it because his back was to you.

Arrax flew away over Storm's End, and the One-Eyed Prince hurried off.

There was no goodbye; planning the wedding had not even been a topic of discussion.

It was not until the next morning that you discovered what monster would soon be bound to you.

Your betrothed was a kinslayer and the one responsible for the war that was about to come.

Your sisters repeatedly examined you with pity and sadness. Even in the weeks that followed, when you heard no word from the prince, they all knew that the gentle deer would soon be in the clutches of a bloodthirsty dragon.

You became fearful.

Every time you heard a guard approaching your chambers, you feared that your betrothed had come to finally claim you as his wife.

You did not want to become his wife.

Even though you could not forget the feeling of his lips on yours and longed for a gentle hand to pull you in, you were afraid of the chaos he would bring.

But he did not come.

Not even a letter reached you.

You had started one once, but you simply did not know what to write him. Why are you not coming back? Do you still want me? Has the betrothal been annulled?

You barely knew him.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months.

Your betrothed had now also murdered Princess Rhaenys and her dragon Meleys and now bore the title of Prince Regent. He was now on his way to Harrenhal to face Prince Daemon, who had already been residing there for a few weeks.

"My Lady! My Lady!"

The panicked voice of your handmaiden woke you in the middle of the night, and you sat up straight, your eyes wide and questioning.

"The Prince Regent—he has gone mad! He is burning down the entire Riverlands, and the Blacks have taken King's Landing! The king has fled, Rhaenyra now sits on the throne!" your maid explained to you, grabbing your shoulders as if she were trying to force the news into your body.

"What?" you asked her, not quite registering the words yet.

"Look!" your maid cried, jerking the curtain aside so you could look out the window.

And indeed—there were wisps of smoke in the night sky, and the distant sky was drenched red like blood.

You were the bride of a monster.

The very next morning, you emptied the entire contents of your stomach into the nearest pot at breakfast when a raven arrived with the news that the Prince Regent had slaughtered the entire House Strong.

Neither man, woman, nor child survived the massacre at Harrenhal.

You began to pray every morning, every night, that the Stranger would come for you. To you or your soon-to-be Lord Husband. You did not want to be held by hands soaked in blood.

You refused to carry the heirs of a madman.

Unfortunately, you had no choice.

The raven arrived a week later, just as the sun disappeared over the horizon, making way for the moon. Your father delivered the news to you personally.

"The Prince Regent wants you to join him at Harrenhal immediately," your father said in a monotone voice, your nails digging deeper into the leather cover of the book that lay in your lap.

"Did he write why?" you asked him, and although you tried to keep your voice as emotionless as possible, it still trembled.

"To secure the royal line of House Targaryen," Lord Borros replied, letting the small note that had been in the prince's blood-soaked hands just a few hours earlier fall into your lap.

You flinched. Slowly and carefully, as if his words contained a curse, you opened the note and ran your eyes over the dried ink.

The ink, too, looked like blood under the flickering candlelight.

The words were simple, but you could still hear his voice deep inside your head.

To Lord Borros Baratheon of Storm's End,

I hereby request the immediate presence of your daughter, my betrothed, at Harrenhal. With the pretender seizing the throne, the bloodline of House Targaryen hangs by a thread. Your daughter is needed to secure it. She will want for nothing.

May the Warrior give us strength in these times of war,

Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen

You dropped the note into your lap. Your hands trembled and you felt like you could not breathe.

"I will have your maids pack your things. A carriage will be waiting for you in the morning, daughter. Rest well," your father said before closing the door to your chambers behind him, leaving you alone again.

That night, lying alone in your bed, with the smell of your home spreading around you like a warm blanket, you considered opening the window and jump.

But were the Stranger's arms gentler than the prince's?

You closed your eyes, and in the far distance, in the cold ruins of Harrenhal, a cold-hearted prince did the same.

You dreamed of shadows haunting you. Of blood staining your dress, dripping to the floor, and carrying with every step. In your dream, you screamed when you saw him—his sword raised, flames surrounding him, his silver hair wild, his gaze mad, and his one eye resting on you and you alone.

The prince dreamed of gentle hands resting on his shoulders. Of a warm smile that could banish the cold of these corridors, and of a kiss he could not forget.

But you had one thing in common. You both awaited the morning. You with a heart full of fear, and he with a heart full of longing.

You hugged each of your sisters for several seconds before boarding the carriage. Cassandra waved goodbye to you, Maris turned away, Ellyn cried, and Floris embraced her tightly.

You were sure you would never see them again.

You traveled for thirty days.

After all, it was about seven hundred miles from Storm's End to Harrenhal, and you had to avoid King's Landing at all costs. The route took you and your guards from Storm's End northwest through the Stormlands, then through the southern Riverlands, which were still burning. The carriage passed Blackhaven; in the distance, you could see Tumbleton, from where you had continued southwest to Harrenhal.

The carriage stopped at two taverns along the way. The first was The Weary Traveler Inn, which was near a busy trade route. The food was good, and you were able to refill your water. You could also change and wash there.

On the outskirts of Tumbleton, you stopped at The Golden Stag Inn, which was even friendlier than the one before. You and the four guards who rode in the carriage to protect you stayed one night.

You knew it would be the last time you would see anything but blood and death, which is why you stayed late into the evening talking with some of the women who had sought shelter in the building after their homes burned down in the fire.

The fire your betrothed was responsible for.

You were not him and could not apologize for his actions, but when you finally left, you left behind a sack full of gold, which they would need more than you.

It was more than he would ever give.

The carriage bumped over the uneven ground, its wheels creaking under the weight of the ride and the strain. Thick fog surrounded them, creeping up from the shore of the Gods' Eye, and in the distance, the tall towers of Harrenhal loomed, almost like dark shapes, like the jagged teeth of a long-dead beast. The sun had not quite risen yet, bathing the ruins of the once-magnificent castle in a pale, sickly light.

The high stone walls loomed tall and imposing, while the ever-present whisper of the supposedly cursed place seemed to be carried on the wind. Everyone knew the rumors about this place. The dark expanse that dwelled within. You were sure that whatever dwelled there would quickly take a liking to you.

Hopefully, it would take pity on you and grant you a short stay.

As the carriage approached the gates, even the street seemed to grow colder, prompting you to pull your cloak tighter around your shoulders. The air felt stifling, heavy with the history of the recent atrocity that had begun there and the blood that stained these stones. The mounted guards rode in silence, their eyes scanning the shadows as if waiting for something—or someone—to emerge from them.

The gates of Harrenhal, massive and forged from ancient iron, loomed before you like the maw of a monstrous beast—a dragon. No banners waved here, no sign of life except the dark, watchful eyes that seemed to peer out of the broken windows in the walls. The only sounds were the muffled creak of the carriage and the soft shuffle of the horse's hooves as you reached the courtyard.

Your heart pounded in your chest. In the distance, beyond the walls, the faint call of a raven echoed through the silence. It was almost as if the air sensed something was coming. Or perhaps it was the castle itself—waiting.

No. It was he who was waiting.

You knew he was.

You took a deep breath before finally opening the carriage door and stepping out into the courtyard. The walls dripped, ravens flew over your head, but otherwise it was deathly quiet.

Your gaze wandered over your new home, where you would reside for the rest of the war, and then you saw him.

He stood high up on one of the balconies, engulfed in shadows. His pale hands gripped the railing as he looked at you and the intensity of his gaze gave you goosebumps and a lump formed in your throat. But then you noticed that he was not alone. A woman stood next to him.

You did not know who she was, but apparently he had let her live. The sole survivor of the massacre that took place in this very courtyard just a few weeks ago.

The realization that right where you were standing, people were being murdered in the most brutal of ways made your knees go weak. You stumbled to the side and would have definitely fallen to the ground if one of your guards had not grabbed your arm to steady you.

When you looked up again, the prince was gone, but the woman continued to look at you. Shadows played around her features, and for a brief moment, you thought you were staring into the eyes of death itself.

"Shall we escort you inside, My Lady?" asked the guard holding your arm. There was a hint of concern in his voice, and for a brief moment, you felt some warmth creep back into your bones.

The feeling immediately vanished when you heard hurried footsteps echoing across the stone floor.

"What is the matter with her?" The Prince Regent's sharp voice cut through the air, and when you looked up at him, you could see nothing but coldness in his one eye.

"I an afraid the journey has not been good for her, Your Grace. We have been traveling for a month," one of the guards explained to him in a calm tone.

Your eyes wandered to the sword hanging at his hip. Blackfyre. The sword Aegon the Conqueror once wielded, and which has already taken so many lives.

Vomit rose in your throat, even though you had not eaten anything that morning, and it took all your strength not to double over and empty the contents of your stomach right at the boots of your betrothed.

"Take her inside. She should rest," he instructed the guard, his tone leaving no room for questions, no opportunity for argument.

You looked up at him, and for a split second, you thought you saw a flicker of emotion on his face. However, it vanished as quickly as it had come, and you decided you must have been hallucinating.

"We will hold the wedding this afternoon in front of the Weirwood Tree. I will send for you."

A nod. That was all you gave him. Your arms brushed briefly as your guard led you past him and into the castle. You did not know which rooms were habitable or which were haunted by spirits from days long past. Let alone which room you would be sharing with your husband from tonight onward.

The mere thought of it made the fine hairs on your arms stand on end and sent shivers through your body.

"This one looks passable, My Lady," the guard said, giving you a cautious smile. At least there was one friendly person left within these cold walls.

"Thank you, Ser Garrick," you replied gratefully, closing the heavy wooden door behind you after entering the darkened rooms.

You could hear Ser Garrick walking down the corridor, and a soft sigh escaped you. You had never felt so alone in your life. Before, you always had your sisters, who annoyed you, but whom you still loved more than anything. Now you had no one.

You sat down on the bed, which was facing the wall, catapulting a load of dust into the air that made you cough. You slowly lowered your back onto the old mattress and looked up at the ceiling with tired eyes. Some shapes and symbols seemed to be carved into the wood above the bed, but you did not know what they meant. Your eyes suddenly became so heavy.

You blinked and suddenly you fell into a deep sleep.

The journey had probably just tired you out too much.

A sudden noise in the chambers startled you. The woman you had seen standing up on the balcony earlier was now standing not far in front of you. In her hands was a bowl from which steam rose. It smelled of tea, but something inside you doubted that this stranger would bring you tea just like that.

"Who are you?" you finally asked her as you cautiously sat up.

"I am Alys," she replied. She simply reached out and held out the bowl to you. "A tea to combat the tiredness from the long journey."

You hesitated as you accepted the bowl from her. Your fingers touched for a split moment, and not a second later, your hands began to tremble. It had suddenly become so cold.

"I have prepared a bath for you in the prince's chambers. You do not want to show up dirty at your own wedding, do you?"

"Are you his maid?" you asked instead, without answering her concern. The bath could wait. So could the wedding.

"Something like that," she answered, taking a few steps away from the bed you were still sitting on. "Drink. Otherwise, it will get cold and lose its potency."

You did not want to drink it, but for some reason, you did anyway. The liquid left a bitter taste on your tongue and burned its way down your throat. It should have felt soothing, but it did not.

"He let you live. Why?" you asked her, confused. The Prince Regent did not seem like a gracious man to you.

"I cannot say. I do not know what is going on in his head."

You nodded and took another sip from your cup. The tea stained your lips purple.

The woman, Alys, now stood with her back to you. Her hair was even blacker than yours, like the darkest onyx.

"But I told him I was once a wet nurse. Perhaps I can still be of value to you, My Lady," she said suddenly, and your hands immediately tightened around the wood of the bowl.

"It will be so lovely to hear these empty halls filled with children's laughter again."

You placed the bowl, still half full, on the bed next to you and stood up on unsteady legs. She was taller than you and quite a bit older, although you could not say exactly how old she was. She seemed infinitely old, yet young at the same time.

A dark suspicion spread within you, but you did not want to think about it right now.

"Where are his chambers?" you asked her, trying to make your voice sound as authoritative as possible. You were sure the attempt failed miserably because she turned to you with a knowing smile on her thin lips.

"Follow me."

Without another word, she walked past you and out the door, and you followed her with quick steps. The prince's chambers were not far from the rooms you had initially chosen. Alys opened the door, and you were amazed to see how well the room was. In fact, there was even a fire burning in the fireplace.

In the middle of the room stood a large tub, from which white steam rose into the air. The water seemed hot, and a smile crept involuntarily onto your lips. A healing bath was exactly what your muscles needed right now.

"Shall I help you undress?"

"No," you answered a little faster than necessary, to which the woman simply chuckled.

"Very well, My Lady. Your wedding dress is on the bed. Call if you need help getting dressed," she said, and immediately hurried back out of the room. The door closed with a loud bang behind her, before you could ask her how she would hear you if you actually called for her.

But you were now glad she was gone. She was frightening.

Your black dress with the yellow embroidery of little deer and antlers landed on the armchair in front of the fireplace, followed by your thin chemise and stockings.

The bathwater was still hot when you finally stepped in, and you could not help but sigh with relief. It felt a lot better than the tea, and you could immediately feel your muscles relaxing and a weight lifting from your shoulders.

But you were not relaxed. Not when you were about to marry the prince in the not-too-distant future. The white dress spread out in the middle of the bed was a constant reminder of that.

The bed. You did not want to think about what would happen right there later. On those sheets. Right where the dress lay, you would lie later.

At least you would be spared a bedding ceremony, you thought.

You washed yourself as best you could with the single bar of soap that was lying next to the tub. It smelled neither of roses, nor lilacs, nor any other scent you could identify.

You were not sure how long you bathed. All you knew was that as you dried yourself with an old, scratchy towel that smelled of old books, leather, and smoke, the sun was slowly setting outside.

It was almost time.

You quickly dried your naked body and untied your hair, which you had tied back to keep it from getting wet. You slipped into your undergarment, stockings, and shoes, and finally cleared your throat.

You opened the door a little and called for Alys.

She came in a few minutes later, and you were surprised to see that she had also done some tidying up. Her hair seemed more combed, and she was no longer wearing the dirty apron she had been wearing before.

"It has been a long time since I was last able to attend a wedding," she said simply, as she helped you step into the dress and tightened the laces at the back with nimble fingers. The bodice was so tight that you could barely breathe.

"Where did you even get that dress? I doubt there are any seamstresses left around here," you asked her, a hint of curiosity in your tone, trying not to curse as the older woman pulled one of the laces too tight again. It was almost as if she wanted you to suffer.

"It belonged to one of the Strongs. I do not remember which one," she said, smoothing your hair over your shoulders with surprising gentleness, letting it fall in soft waves down your back.

Your stomach lurched. You were wearing the dress of a dead woman.

Alys stood in front of you and placed her hands on her hips, examining her work. "He will like you. He has been waiting for you, you know? Told me about you in the nights while I made him tea."

Your eyes widened and you blinked. You did not know whether to be flattered or even more terrified than you already were. If he was waiting, then he had expectations. What if you could not fulfill them?

"He told you about me?" you asked, adjusting the sleeves of your dress.

The woman in front of you nodded her head, grinning. "He told me about the moment he chose you. He said you tasted the sweetest of all your sisters."

A blush flooded your cheeks and you immediately looked down at the ground. After all these weeks and months, he could still remember the taste of your lips? The feeling he had when he did it?

You could not believe this was the same man whose hands were soaked with the blood of hundreds of innocents.

"Are you ready?" her voice suddenly startled you from your thoughts, and you simply nodded.

Together, you both walked through the cold, empty, and wet halls of Harrenhal. Drops of water fell on your shoulder, you walked past a black billy goat, and you felt like thousands of eyes were staring at you, even though there were hardly any souls left in these halls.

The evening air was cold, but not unpleasant, when you finally stepped out into the courtyard with the older woman. Aemond Targaryen was already standing in front of the Weirwood Tree. The wind gently blew a few strands of his silver hair, and the setting sun cast a golden light on him and the tree, whose leaves shone red.

Only Alys noticed that the tree's face had finally stopped crying.

Next to the prince stood an elderly man dressed like a Septon of the Faith of the Seven. You wanted to ask where this man came from, since there was no Sept in the immediate vicinity, but you bit your tongue.

The Prince Regent seemed to have been waiting for this moment, and you did not want to ruin it. After all, you did not want to taste his wrath.

Alys let go of your arm and stood not far from you. Aemond's eye briefly flicked to the woman, and he gave her a nod- one of gratitude for her service.

"My prince," you greeted him, curtsying slightly to show his respect.

"My lady," he replied, extending a hand, which you hesitantly took.

You both turned to the Septon, who looked at you with an almost fatherly smile on his lips.

"We stand before the Old Gods, under the watchful eye of the Weirwood, to unite your hearts and your destinies. May you remain true to one another, in joy and sorrow, until the end of your days," the Septon began in a solemn tone. The wind in the courtyard began to shift, and it almost felt as if you felt a warm hand on your shoulder.

The older man pulled a red ribbon from his robe, which he carefully and patiently tied around your hands. Compared to the prince's, your hands were small and delicate.

He looked down at you, you looked up at him, and in that moment you thought you could see the ghost of a smile on his lips. Not a malicious smile or a cruel one, but a genuine one.

"You may speak now," said the Septon, once he had finished tying your hands together.

Aemond straightened his back and brought his other hand to your face, cupping your chin with two fingers so that you would not look away from him. He wanted to look you in the eye as he swore this oath to you.

"I am hers and she is mine," he spoke in a firm, confident voice.

For a moment, you just looked at him and swallowed the lump in your throat. A breeze flew over you, rustling the red leaves of the tree. From somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted.

"I am his and he is mine," you finally replied, but unlike his, your voice was soft and quiet.

It was a sound Aemond would call music.

The Septon placed his old, wrinkled hands over both of yours. They were ice cold.

"May the ancient gods watch over you, may your hearts be one, and may your love grow as old as the trees themselves," he announced, and even though you did not want to, you could not help but give your husband the slightest smile.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Your shoulders tensed, and Aemond sensed from the way your delicate hand twitched beneath his ever so slightly that you were nervous. He did not want you to feel that way in his presence. You were now his Lady Wife.

He leaned down slowly, carefully, as if you were a wounded deer that he now had to tend to: "Do not be afraid."

Your eyes moved down to his lips.

"I am not afraid," you whispered, a lie.

"Good. Because I do not want you to be afraid of me. Never, do you hear?"

You nodded your head. His warm breath brushed your cheek, and you instinctively leaned closer to him, seeking his warmth, while he could not wait any longer. Aemond closed the last distance between you two and pressed his lips against yours, while his free hand cupped your face.

Your lips were warm and soft, and you tasted just as sweet as he remembered. Fresh wild berries and something he would associate with you alone.

He sighed into the kiss, and you tentatively kissed him back, but that alone was enough to show him that you accepted him. You wanted him.

He only broke the kiss when he had no more air in his lungs, and even then, he rested his forehead against yours, for he could not bear to be parted from you any longer. Your breath came in short gasps, and your eyes roamed over his face, and for the first time, you saw him.

You did not see the monster that set the Riverlands ablaze, killed his nephew, and wiped out an entire bloodline. You saw the man behind it, and you found that you liked what you saw.

"Come with me."

Not a question, a command.

He untied the band that had been wrapped around your hands until just a moment ago and let it fall to the dirty ground in the shadow of the tree's roots, where the wind would soon carry it away. It would probably land in the Gods' Eye and disappear into the depths of the lake, never to be found.

Your husband intertwined his fingers with yours and led you, guided by his hand, back into the castle, where you already knew what awaited you.

Behind you, the Septon disappeared as if he had never been there.

Alys smiled and stroked her owl.

He was just closing the door to his—your—chambers behind you when his lips were back on yours.

"My prince—" you tried to say. "My husband, please."

"What is it, wife?" he murmured against your lips as he pushed you toward the large canopy bed.

He just could not stop kissing you. It was impossible.

"I need air," you protested, a small laugh escaping you. It was one of the most beautiful sounds his ears had ever heard.

His arms wrapped around your waist as his lips traveled down your neck, exploring every inch. Every single one.

„Better?“ he whispered as the backs of your knees touched the bed.

He gently bit into your warm flesh, eliciting a surprised gasp. No, that was his new favorite sound.

He wondered how sweetly you could else sing for him?

His hands smoothed the fabric of the white dress up your legs, desperate to get the fabric off you. He has been wondering for weeks what you would look like without it. Ever since the first time you kissed and you looked at him like a wounded little deer, he knew he could not resist you.

After arriving at Harrenhal, he had invited the witch into his bed to vent his frustration, but the moment her lips had touched his, he had pushed her away. Instead, he had talked about you.

The witch was a good listener, and that was why he let her live.

But he only wanted you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and your fingers dug into his silky, silver hair, resembling the light of a full moon. The feeling sent an incredible heat through his chest, making him wonder if it had not been a dragon that had bathed him in flames, like he had the Riverlands.

He took satisfaction in the fact that they were still burning.

He pushed you down onto the bed and immediately climbed over you, his hands roaming up and down your curves, his lips exploring your neck, and you writhing beneath him.

You were about to lose yourself in his kisses and the feeling of his body's warmth when you suddenly felt his dagger pressing into your hip. The dagger he intended to use to attack his nephew, a sign of the violence and storm he carried within him.

Even now when he was laying with you.

The monster might have looked at you with a gaze full of gentleness, but it still slumbered within him.

The same hands that now touched you and ran over your body as if you were something precious had murdered and committed cruel acts just a few weeks ago.

His eye met yours, and he looked at you with such intensity that you could not help but lose yourself in him. You were a gentle breeze on a sunny day, he was the thunderstorm that followed.

He was what you were missing.

"Wife?" he asked you, his voice dripping with desire.

"Yes, husband?" you asked him, breathless.

"May I?"

He gave you the choice.

You nodded and he began to rip open the laces of your bodice with a sense of urgency and need.

And shorty after, when he thrusted in and out of you, your legs wrapped around his waist and his cock buried deep inside of your cunt, while he whispered of filling you up with his seed- you realized something.

Perhaps being loved by a monster was not as bad as you had thought.

The Divider is from the wonderful @zaldritzosrose !

Taglist: @bey0nd-1he-stars @sassypain @hisfavegirl @dahaenatargaryen @sylasthegrim @danytar

[nyrasvoid]

A Knight’s Prize

Gwayne Hightower x Fem!Reader

Summary: in a tourney to decide her future, Rhaenyra Targaryen’s eldest daughter must choose a husband. Ser Gwayne Hightower, a charming yet unexpected suitor, captures her attention.

Warnings: i don’t think there is any warning yet but it might contain smut if I write more parts (idk tho)

A/N: this is the first fanfic I have ever written so any criticism as long as it’s respectful will be accepted 🙃 btw english isn’t my first language so some expressions might not make any sense for you guys lol

- Word count: ≈1.1K

As the eldest daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Ser Laenor Velaryon, you carried the Velaryon name with pride. At almost ten and eight years of age, you knew your time had come to marry and strengthen your house. Though your mother felt guilty about marrying you off against your will, she decided to organize a tournament, allowing you the choice in selecting your future lord husband, just like she had wanted when she was younger.

The Red Keep buzzed with anticipation as knights and lords from all over the realm gathered to compete for your hand. Among the spectators sat King Viserys, Queen Alicent, and their children, observing the events unfold. The tension between the blacks and greens was palpable, especially since Alicent had rejected the offer of Princess Rhaenyra of marrying Jacaerys to Helaena, calling her sons ‘plain featured’.

You and your brothers had always noticed the looks and whispers of the highborn lords and ladies each time you walked around the Red Keep. You sometimes resented your mother, not for finding comfort in a lover, as you very much did not care, but for finding a lover with such strong genes.

Your mother approached you as you stood in the balcony of your chambers, overlooking the field. “Are you ready, my daughter?” she asked, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and determination.

You nodded, your eyes scanning the assembled knights and lords below. “Yes, mother. I am very excited to marry a lord I will most possibly not be fond of and bear his heirs, for it is my duty to the realm.” You said sarcastically as you looked down sadly.

“See,” Rhaenyra said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I know that you did not ask for any of this, but it is our duty as princesses of the realm to bear heirs for the iron throne”. You looked at her “I know it is, mother. I am just scared” you paused as you took a deep breath “What if he mistreats me?”. You mother chuckled “Then you must let me know and I shall fly to you and make Syrax devour your lord husband”. You both giggled at your mother’s words, you saw her capable of it, she had always been protective of her only daughter.

As the herald announced the beginning of the tournament, you couldn't help but feel a knot of anxiety tighten in your stomach. The knights and lords paraded before you, each hoping to catch your eye and win your favor. Your gaze lingered on Ser Gwayne Hightower, the eldest son of Otto Hightower and brother of Queen Alicent. Why was he even here if Alicent had already rejected the opportunity to unite even more your houses? Wasn’t he also defeated by your uncle Daemon in a tourney years ago? It would have been funny to see Otto’s face then, the man he hated the most in the seven kingdoms, knocking his eldest son of his horse. Perhaps his father had sent him, he had always been known as an ambitious man.

The trumpets sounded, signaling the beginning of the tournament. You glanced over at Ser Gwayne, who stood confidently with his head held high. He caught your eye for a moment, and you quickly looked away, feeling a surge of irritation.

As the day wore on, you noticed Ser Gwayne’s victories. His fierce determination and honorable conduct impressed you. He fought with courage, that was both inspiring and captivating. After winning a round against a lord from a minor house you had never heard of, he approached the gallery to ask for your favour.

“Princess, it would be the greatest honor if you would grant me your favor.” He said as he took off his helmet revealing his beautiful blue eyes and charming smile “May your blessing guide me to victory in this tournament for your hand”.

You smiled in amusement “Take this flower crown, Ser Gwayne, and wear it with pride.” You reach for the flower crown resting beside you, it blooms the vibrant colors of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon. “It bears the colors of my house and the faith I have in you”. You lean forward, gently placing the flower crown on Ser Gwayne’s lance.

Ser Gwayne bows once more, his voice filled with gratitude. “I am deeply honored, my lady. With your favor, I shall strive to be worthy of your hand”

During a brief intermission, you found yourself wandering through the gardens of the Red Keep, seeking a moment of respite from the intensity of the tournament. Thinking about how your future was about to be decided by a stupid tourney. It was there were you encountered one of the knights fighting for your hand.

"Princess," he greeted, bowing deeply. "I hope the tourney is to your satisfaction."

You studied him for a moment, noting the easy charm in his smile and the glint of mischief in his eyes. "It is, Ser Gwayne. You fight well and with honor.”

"Thank you, princess," he replied, stepping closer. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to find such beauty amidst the flowers.”

“Ser Gwayne,” you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Shouldn’t you be resting for your next fight?”

“I find the gardens far more refreshing than the company of annoying knights,” - he steps closer “Besides, I couldn’t resist the chance to speak more privately with my future lady wife.” he says confidently.

There’s a playful spark in his eyes that makes your heart race. “You seem very confident, Ser Gwayne. Aren’t you worried about the competition?”

He leans in slightly, “The only competition that matters to me is winning your hand, princess”

You laugh softly, both flattered and intrigued. “Bold words for a knight who hasn’t yet proven himself.”

His gaze becomes more intense, a hint of cockiness in his smile. “Then perhaps I should start proving myself next round.”

Before you can respond, he gently takes your hand, placing a tender kiss on your knuckles. You could feel your cheeks heat up. It wasn’t the first time a knight or a lord kissed your hand, but this time was different, you actually felt something.

As the distant sounds of the tournament begin to echo through the gardens, you know it’s time to return. Ser Gwayne till holds your hand, as if he is reluctant to let go.

“I suppose we must go back,” you say softly.

He nods, as his eyes remain fixed on you. “Duty calls us both, it seems.” he said as he let go of your hand “But know this, Princess. My intentions towards you are sincere, it would be a great honor to marry you”

You give him a small smile, though you doubt his real intentions “Words are easy, Ser Gwayne. Proving them is the true challenge.”

“Then I shall accept your challenge, for you are worth every effort.”

You can’t help but wonder if his charm is genuine or simply a tactic. You recall the reputation of the Hightowers, a family known for their ambitions. Are Ser Gwayne’s intentions truly genuine, or is he merely following his father’s orders, seeking to gain influence through marriage?

You walk back to the main grounds of the tournament, his words echoing in your mind. ‘My intentions are sincere.’ Could it be true? Or is this just another scheme by his father, Otto Hightower, to strengthen their hold on power?

As you take your place, you steal a glance at Ser Gwyn. He catches your eye and offers a reassuring smile, but the seed of doubt has already been planted in your head.

The tournament continues, but your thoughts remain divided. You weigh the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes against the ruthless ambition of his family. Should you trust your heart, which yearns to believe in his genuine affection?

Pt. 2???

P.S. if you guys have any suggestions for part two, to improve my writing or anything you think, please let me know 🫨 Btw just in case you want to know, the lady in the picture at the beginning is Kosem Sultan, played by Beren Saat (there are others) she has great dress inspo if you want them for your DRs or fanfics.

[buckysunshine]

i got my eye on you – house of the dragon

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut (18+) ! Targcest/Targaryen Incest (Uncle/Niece), Enemies to Lovers, Denial of feelings, explosion of feelings, vaginal fingering.

Synopsis: Sixteen hours and six days were all it took for you to have everything Aemond had wanted. A dragon, a mother's unconditional love, a brother that actually cares and gives a shit. Sixteen hours and six days were all it took to hate you. 

At the return of the blacks, the princess is transformed, and the hate swirling in Aemond’s gut is replaced with something different, something new.

Word Count: 2.6K

Sixteen hours. That was how long Rhaenyra labored to bring you into this world. With blood came the heir's only daughter, a spitting image of her mother yet contrasted by the colors of the father. A princess. Another bastard. 

Six days. That's how long you stayed in the babe's cradle until the hatching of your dragon egg. Arrax.

Sixteen hours and six days were all it took for you to have everything Aemond had wanted. A dragon, a mother's unconditional love, a brother that actually cares and gives a shit. 

Sixteen hours and six days were all it took to hate you.

~

Living in a den of vipers taught you more than the books you were forced to read. You were a princess, the daughter of the realm's heir, yet they treat you as the scum of a mare's back disguised in petty smiles and hidden whispers.

Early on, you learned you only had your family to depend on. Not your uncles. They always liked to inflict the most pain. Helaena was always sweet, but the queen made sure to isolate her from you and your family. 

But your greatest tormentor came in the form of purple eyes and silver hair. Aemond Targaryen.

He was always there to plague you no matter how nice you've been or how little you were. Eyes distant and cold, and on you at all times. You could never escape it; thus, it only made sense that you were the one to take his eye on that fateful night. You – the object of his ire, the thief who stole his eye. You tell yourself it was to protect your brother, but deep down, it was also to break free of his punishing stares. 

Aemond Targaryen was not the only person who changed from that moment. The day you took his eye was the day you gained your own courage.

"Enjoy it, uncle. The next time you see me, my mother will wear the crown, and your family will be set aside to return to your little green towers." You speak brazenly atop Arrax at the hour of your departure to Dragonstone. He may have Vhagar, but the true power belongs to the heir of the Iron Throne. 

Your last words to the one-eyed second son rang in his ears for the rest of his days, fueling the bitter craving for revenge in his heart. 

~

"You'll cut yourself." The rogue prince's warning makes you jump away from the valyrian steel. "Careful."

You've sneaked a glance at dark sister. The prince consort was rarely without it, so the one chance you see it abandoned, you gather up the courage to hold it even for a second. It felt like the blade was calling to you; surely, it was the voices of the lives taken by the age-old steel. 

Daemon takes the steel in his hand, wielding it easily. You watch his every move, utterly fascinated. Daemon sees the spark of ambition in your eyes. It's the same spark that flamed within him in his early years. 

"Ever used a blade?"

"Only one time when I took an eye."

Daemon grinned, passing the steel to you. He could work with that. "Not a bad start.”

Dark Sister felt heavy in your hands, but it was also oddly familiar. It felt right to hold it. You were a Targaryen, after all, and coupled with the strong genes of your father, it was no trouble to handle a sword. You were a quick learner, and Daemon took delight in training you, gender norms be damned. 

This would have never happened in the Red Keep. The only place for you there were the quilting room and the birthing bed. Ser Criston Cole would have never allowed you to step foot in his training grounds, and you would have never had the courage to try. 

Ever since you left for Dragonstone, your courage grew day by day, and with Daemon at your side, it flamed anew.

But all that courage faltered at the news of Vaemond Velaryon's challenge to Lucery's inheritance to Driftmark. 

Vaemond did not scare you, but the thought of returning to King's Landing and meeting a purple eye did.

-

Aemond Targaryen had never waited for a day like this. 

The blacks’ return shall be met with the green's first strike. His nephew is possibly disinherited; most importantly, he gets to prove you wrong. He waits to see you again so he could inject the fear that always made you shrink in his gaze. The years had made him hard, brutish. He and Vhagar are alike in more ways than the valyrian blood that flows in them.

Aemond's eye finds you immediately. Surrounded by your family, you seemed small but grown, more mature. Your dress is filled better by newly developed curves. Your locks remained ever dark, and it gives Aemond a reminiscence of a dark-haired woman plaguing his dreams as of late. Ever since he heard the news of your return, his dreams have been nothing but hazy images of dark hair that makes him wake with a hard cock. 

He ignores it.

Your families don't have time to reunite as the unforgiving court awaits. You don't make the effort to find your uncles either, though you did send a warm smile to your aunt. You ignore them, and it makes Aemond itch. He longs to see the fire in your eyes so he could squash and spit on it.

Vaemond Velaryon speaks, and he loses his head. 

Aemond is no stranger to bloodshed, relishes in it even. An unexpected similarity between you. 

It does not miss him when you don't flinch at the brutal slash, only moving to cover your younger brother, Joffrey. You watch the blade slash clean through flesh with a fervid gaze, and it gives Aemond surprise, his interest piqued.

~

"Seems like you're wrong, princess."

You were a hard one to track alone. Always surrounded by your pesky brothers, Aemond awaited the chance to corner you. He finds it fitting to find you in the dragon pit. You endured the tense family dinner, playing oblivious to the one purple eye peering over you, and once the feasting had ended, you were gone. Not in your chambers or even the grounds of the Red Keep. You escaped to the skies, flying Arrax till late at night. You needed the reprieve, and you wished you were back there again the moment you landed with Aemond already waiting for your alighting.

"Uncle." You greeted him, shedding your riding gloves off. He is taller now, more slender, and his face matured with the scar you left him with. Shame, he could have been handsome.

You walk, and Aemond is at your tail. He starts his taunting. 

"We meet, and yet no crown on your mother's head, and our family's roots are still deep within these courts."

"I am grateful for our king's long life." You say, eyes blank, straight ahead. You're being polite. Your mother's words of peace ring in your ears, and it takes all your effort to maintain niceties. Aemond sees right through it.

"There is only us. You can speak plainly." He clasps his arms behind his back, unbothered. "The king is dying and should have died long ago."

"Must you be so cruel?”

"I only speak the truth." He is close behind, leaning down to mutter in your ear. "Last time I recall, it is not a crime to do so. Well, should not be treated as such anyway." He says slyly, laying down his bait for you to take. 

"I was a kid, Aemond. Must you torment me all my life?" You bite, stopping in your tracks and facing him completely with fire in your eyes. The years of guilt and vexing rifts at your resolve. The man always knew how to push your buttons.

Ah, there she is. Aemond flashes a condescending smile just for a second before slipping back into his usual glare. "You know what I want. Justice."

"Then so be it." You pull out your sword, the same one Daemon gifted you years ago. It was smaller than the standard fighting swords, for it was only supposed to be used in training, but you don't care. A sword is a sword. You've done worse with smaller ones.

"Here's your justice. Try to take out my eye. I'll allow your efforts. Take my eye and be done with all these bother.”

Aemond stares at you delightfully surprised before drawing his own sword out. You dare? He answers. The years in Dragonstone changed you, no more the little girl he could torment and plague back in the Red Keep. He is made clear of it. The girl standing before him is a dragon, a warrior, a Targaryen. A predator to be conquered.

"Today is a good day for justice."

He swings, and steels meet.

It was a dance between two dragons, and the sound of swords clashing against each other played the music to every spin and sway. It was a dance, and Aemond hated how you were leading. 

Honed by the rogue prince, you've learned how to put up a good fight and sniff out an opponent's weak points. You detect Aemond's obvious weakness – his blind side. You focus your attacks on his left side, taking advantage of his every crux. He underestimated you, your hits stronger than he expected. He stumbles at your strike, aim focused on his left shoulder. 

But Aemond is no fool on the battlefield. He also paid his dues in his training with Ser Criston Cole. The man might be vile, but there is no denying the knight is the most skillful swordsman alive in King's Landing. Aemond's skills are beaten into him in the most literal sense, the years of cuts and bruises shaping him into the warrior he is now. It was no match to your little lessons, no matter how fast of a learner you might be. Aemond is still stronger, faster. 

And with a swing to your leg and a precise hit to your wrist, your blade flies away from you. Unarmed, the older boy takes the chance to seize you. 

You take the hit head on, grunting at the weight of him knocking you down.

Pinned on the ground, bladeless and pregnable, Aemond's steel rests snug against your neck. The music has stopped. You've lost. 

"Beg." Steel presses further into skin. "Beg for mercy."

"No." you spat, ever so stubbornly. A dragon does not beg.

Aemond's nostrils flare at your defiance, a thousand emotions brewing in his chest. He has wanted this for so long, yet he finds himself stalling for time.

Despite your loss, you weren't giving up. Aemond always hated how stubborn you could be, so careless, yet protected and loved even as a bastard. Aemond could do everything right, yet his father would not even spare him a glance unless he found himself in some sort of trouble, and Alicent shared the family's burden with him, depriving him of the innocence of childhood. But you had your dragon the day you were born, showered with love and affection. 

Spoiled. Ungrateful. 

In his resentment, he cuts skin, drawing blood. "Don't think I won't do it. You know I would."

You refuse to wince from the pain, eyes locked in and determined. "I fought, and I lost. I'm true to my word. Take my eye now. Take your prize." You turn your head, presenting him the left side of your face. "Is that not what you want, uncle? Or do you plan to bitch and whine to me for the rest of your days?"

"I want… nothing!"

Throwing his blade away, you're finally given a chance to breathe. Still on top, he looks down on you. Aemond has you at the bottom of his feet, to do what he wants, to take what he is robbed of, yet he finds himself at pause. He wanted an eye, and now he yearns for more.

As he watched your face, cheeks turning delightfully pink, and chest heaving, the strangest thing happened. Aemond felt something squeeze suspiciously in his chest at the thought of you exposed and vulnerable to him.

He realized he wanted you. He really, really wanted you.

Only then did the feeling of hatred in his gut turn to something different. It swirled anew — to desire.

Aemond Targaryen desires for the niece under him.

Oh.

With this revelation, he starts seeing the image in his dreams clearly. His conscience is plagued by the woman of dark hair and milky skin he's been dreaming of, the cause of his seed spilling on his thighs in the morning. It was you.

With the veil of denial finally lifted, he leans down and captures your mouth, pouring every bit of frustration and newly found desire into your kiss. Your hands raise to push him off, but he pins them down easily. Warm lips lock onto yours, forcing your mouth to yield to his demand and, eventually, your own visceral need. Unrelenting, your defiance quickly faded, and your tongue started meeting his as well. Heat dances in your chest and straight down the apex of your thighs. 

You've been kissed before, kissed sweetly, softly, but never like this. This was different; this was hungry, consuming, punishing. Aemond's kiss triggers a primal craving in your flesh; it refuses your mind's reason entirely.

Shifting above you, Aemond parts your legs, planting himself between your thighs. You feel the hard ridge of him pressing against your clothed core, and you undoubtedly grind against it. 

His body – Gods. It is evil how it was pressed against yours, the heat of it seeping through your clothing, searing your very soul.

He made you shiver. He made you melt.

Aemond gropes your breast, dipping down to nip at the neck he just pressed a blade against moments ago. "I want you."

Aemond always told the truth, an ideology planted in his head by his devoted mother, but it is only now he felt the peace a person should feel when telling the truth.

Aemond’s tongue traces a map of pleasure on your skin, fueling a need you never knew. He chants your name, groaning at every repeat. His lips move frantically along your face until they find your mouth again. “I need you.” He pressed his hips hotly against yours. “Do you feel how I need you?” 

Your fingers tangle in his silver hair, making it undone from its restraints; you grip it, urging for more.

"What is it? Take what you want." He yearns to hear your voice, hear you beg for him.

He pulls away, and you whine at the loss. "Use your words, princess. Tell me what you want.”

You're faced with Aemond's face atop of yours, and unthinking, you take it in your hands. He leans in, hanging on to your next words. 

Your lips hover over each other, and with a whisper, you say, "No."

Aemond's face breaks into a grin, a deep chuckle escaping him. Your heart stutters at the image of a genuine smile on the prince's face. It was a rare thing, and you don't know what to do with it.

Distracted, his fingers find your thighs, squeezing them hard before delving further. You gasp when he presses at the burning between your legs. 

"Now is not the time for your stubbornness, sweet niece."

Aemond quickly breaks through the layers of cloth separating him from your sensitive skin. It was embarrassing how easily he found the wetness waiting for him. But Aemond relishes at the feel of them, the thought of your excitement feeding his desire. His fingers play at your folds, sliding easily. He circles at your center, noticing how your moans become louder when he touches you there. He watches your every expression, determined to pluck your pleasure from you. You looked too pretty with your lips red and puffy, but your unscarred skin calls to be dirtied by him.

He leans down to nip at the skin of your jaw, then to your neck once more. He hopes to leave a mark. "Would you do it? Bed your uncle like your mother did.”

The sting of his tongue against the wound he placed on you wakes you from your haze. Your mother. The lust is quickly replaced by guilt and shame, and you suddenly feel suffocated. Shoving away, you slap him off you. He stumbles, shocked and disoriented. 

Gathering your skirts, you stand, now looking down at him. Your throat dries, but you speak firmly. "You've had your chance to take your justice. Now let us speak of it no more.”

And you were gone, fleeing without as much as a second glance behind, and Aemond is left alone. The sting on his face and the hardness of his cock are the only reminders of your dance.

[inseobts]

Paths Diverged, Hearts United

Trafalgar Law x gn!Strawhat!Reader

After liberating Wano you get offered to join a new crew and you decide to follow your heart.

A/N: it’s been years since I last wrote and posted something and it’s the first time I write about one piece so please be gentle with me lmao

Tags: sfw, bickering

Masterlist // ko-fi

The celebrations of Wano’s liberation has finally calmed. The Straw Hats, the Heart Pirates, and the Kidd Pirates stood together at the edge of the Flower Capital, each crew preparing to part ways. The bonds forged during the war were strong, but now the time had come for each to follow their own path.

You stood near the Sunny, your gaze fixed on the horizon. The others are laughing, bickering, and preparing their ships, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Your heart feels heavy, torn between the adventure that await you with the Straw Hats and the unspoken pull you feel toward Trafalgar Law.

“Y/N,” Kidd’s gruff voice cut through your thoughts. You turn to see the fiery redhead striding toward you, his usual smirk replaced with something softer. “You know, you’d make a hell of a lot more sense on my crew. We’d make a killer team.”

You chuckle, appreciating his attempt to sound casual. “Thanks, Kidd, but you know I’d drive you crazy.”

He snorts “You already do.”

His expression grew serious for a moment. “But if you change your mind, the offer stands. No strings, no pressure.”

You smile, giving him a playful shove. “Thanks, but I think the Sunny’s where I belong.”

As Kidd walks away, Law approaches from the Heart Pirates’ side. His usual stoic expression tinged with something unreadable, his golden eyes locking onto yours.

“Strawhat-ya,” he says, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re really staying with Luffy, huh?”

You nod, heart pounding in your chest “Yeah. I can’t imagine leaving them. They’re my family.”

Law nods, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting yours again. “Good choice” he says, though the tightness in his voice betrayed him.

The night before the departure, you found Law standing alone by a small koi pond in the garden. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting a silver glow over him.

You approach quietly, nerves fraying with every step.

“Law” you called softly.

He turns, his expression softening when he sees you. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

You shook your head, coming to stand beside him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like a fragile thread. Finally, you took a deep breath.

“There’s something I need to say before we leave” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

Law’s brow furrows, concern flickering across his face “What is it?”

You clench your fists, summoning the courage you need, “I’ve been holding this back for too long. I care about you, Law. More than I probably should, considering we’re on different crews. But I wanted you to know… I actually have feelings for you.”

The confession hung in the air, raw and unpolished. Law’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he was completely silent.

Then, to your surprise, he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours.

“Y/N,” he says softly, “I’ve spent so long keeping people at arm’s length. But you—you’ve made it impossible to do that. I like - I love you too.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and full of restrained passion. The weight of both your unspoken feelings melted away as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace.

The next morning, the crews gather at the docks. Luffy is as loud as ever, already shouting about the next destination. Kidd’s crew is preparing to set sail, and Law’s crew is doing the same.

You stood with the Strawhats, you heart torn but resolute. You exchange one last glance with Law, a silent understanding passing between you.

As the Sunny pulls away from the harbor, you stood at the railing, watching the Polar Tang grow smaller in the distance. Law stood at his own ship’s deck, his hand brushing against the pocket where a small piece of your vivre card rested.

You are on different paths now, but your bond is unbreakable.

Weeks later, you found yourself staring at the horizon again, your fingers brushing against the matching piece of Law’s vivre card you kept tucked away.

“Thinking about him again?” Nami teases, coming to stand beside you.

You smile sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Nami says with a grin. “It’s about time someone tied you down, even if he’s not here.”

Luffy bounded over, laughing. “Don’t worry, Y/N! We’ll see him again! And when we do, you can make him blush all over again!”

You laugh, your heart light despite the ache of missing him. You know you’ll meet again—after all, your love is as constant as the sea itself.

[vvifeys]

This is my first time ordering here. AAAAAHHH It took me a while to gather up the courage.

I want one from the time Violet was in prison. I totally imagine Vi having her first experiences with the woman who did her tattoos (tattoo artist), with her being the only person Vi trusts in prison and more experienced then our fighter. 🫦👀

OOOHH I'm embarrassed now 🙈🙈 Me feel a teenager again

new to this.

sub!vi x dom!reader. tw: smut. fingering. vi is inexperienced. light degradation. praise. men dni! a/n: AWW HI THERE!! i'm glad that you got the courage to ask me for this, because i love this idea so much!! fair warning, i have a kindergarteners level knowledge about prisons, but i know that prisoners typically have cellmates so you guys are cellmates! i'm following a more real life logic rather than arcane 😅 i apologize if this is inaccurate in any way, thank you for this again, anon~

vi was laying on her side in her bed– if you could even call it that. the mattress was so thin it barely covered the wood it was laying on. uncomfortable, but she'd gotten used to it. used to laying on her side staring at your pretty face. you were the thing that made this prison bearable.

you were the resident tattoo artist. most of the inmates in stillwater that had tattoos (vi included) had gone under your steady hand to get them. your work was incredible, and it earned you lots of favors. intel, extra food, cigars even– but you always declined. you had given up on keeping score long ago, not too long after being thrown in here.

thrown in here with... the prettiest girl you'd ever seen. honestly, you didn't understand how such a sweet girl could commit a crime heinous enough to be tossed into a place as horrid as this. you very quickly learned, however, that it was false imprisonment. it wasn't easy, but you'd managed to grow close to your pink haired cellmate, and you'd become quite fond of her. she came to you for all three tattoos she wanted, and thanked you endlessly for the incredible work.

being fond of her was a crime in itself, though. you found yourself staring at her more often than you should've, and you caught her staring back at you more often than not. your gaze often traveled down to her arms, her hands, those thighs... you'd fallen asleep many times with thoughts of her in your head. her constantly getting into fights didn't help– she'd be returned to your shared cell with a bloody nose or a black eye, and you'd take care of her, as always.

tending to her wounds just led to more longing. you hadn't realized how badly you'd been yearning for her until she'd gotten a particularly nasty fork wound on her thigh. she was sitting there in boxers while you made sure to clean the bleeding holes to the best of your abilities. that was months ago, but you still remember the feeling of her eyes on you, the way your stomach flipped at every little gasp or twitch from her, and the way your eyes kept drifting just a little further upward.

months later, here you are in your current predicament. you're staring at her from across the room, both of you holding eye contact. your heart is beating faster than usual. you'd both just gotten done eating, and now it was lights out. there were a couple dim lights on in the hallway, the shadows making vi's face look even softer than it usually did. there was an unspoken tension, and you knew she felt it too if the way she was looking at you like she wanted to kiss you was any indication.

"violet, you want something. i know that look." you state, propping yourself up on your elbow.

"i- hey! i don't like how you know me that well. i just... i've been thinking." vi sighs, you can immediately tell something is wrong. she sat up, but she's not looking you in the face anymore.

"about?" you prompted after a few minutes of silence. vi was obviously contemplating something, and it was making you anxious.

"you? us? i don't know. just... there's something between us, and i know you feel it too." her eyes flicked up to yours, then down to the bedsheet a couple times.

you didn't even speak. you got up, walking over to sit down beside her and grab her hand. vi turned to look at your entwined hands, giving a light squeeze before meeting your eyes. you leaned in, mouth close to her ear.

"do you want this?" you ask, voice hardly louder than a whisper. your free hand moved to rest on her thigh.

"want w- oh. i've never... i'm new to this." vi hesitated, nervous to say it out loud. she swallowed so hard, you swore you could hear it.

"hey, hey, that's okay. let me show you, yeah? we can stop at any time if you want to." you pull back enough to look her in her soft, grey eyes. you bring your hands up to cup her cheeks, making sure she's focused and listening.

"yeah... i'll let you." vi nodded in your hands, eyes closing with a soft sigh.

you kept your hold on her face, but leaned in to kiss her. her lips were softer than you expected them to be, your own eyes closing as you relaxed at the feeling. you pulled back, but before you could even open your mouth to check on her, she presses her lips on yours again.

vi was a little messy with her kisses, but the more you kissed, the more she got the hang of it. your hands started to wander, one moving back to her thigh, and the other coming to hold her waist. your hands on her gave her the confidence to start to touch you. you felt one of her hands slide up your back, while the other held the side of your face. you smile into the kiss, both hands moving to her hips to gently tug her into your lap.

soon enough, you had vi straddling your thighs– knees on either side of your hips as you kissed. you pulled back, trailing your mouth down her jawline and to her neck. you nipped a little just above her collarbone to test her reaction. vi's soft gasp drew a wicked smile from you as you bit harder. you sucked a couple hickeys into her neck, giggling at her soft whimpers.

"can i take this off, pretty girl?" you ask, hands coming up to the hem of vi's shirt. she nods immediately, leaning back to help you pull the shirt over her head.

your eyes widened once her shirt was off. she was toned, you'd watched her work out before but you'd never seen her shirtless like this. you traced the contours of her torso with a hungry gaze, eyes coming to rest on her tits. her nipples were hard, chest flushed a light red from the blush that had taken over her face.

"stop staring! it's embarrassing." vi protested, crossing her arms over her chest.

"ah, ah. don't cover yourself up, vi, you're so gorgeous." you tell her, hands coming up to pull her arms away from her chest.

you used one hand to pull her body closer to you, your mouth latching on to one of her nipples. your free hand came up to twist the other one, drawing a moan from vi's pretty lips. you pulled back, your hand stopping it's movements.

"sshh, don't be so loud. do you wanna wake the whole hall?" you whispered, purposefully squeezing her breast to pull another noise from her. she quickly shook her head, resting her forehead on your shoulder.

"yeah, that's what i thought. c'mon, baby, can i lay you down?" you speak softly, feeling the vulnerability radiating off of the girl in your lap. you feel vi nod against you, and slowly move her onto her back. she's looking up at you through pink locks of hair, her lips parted as she breathes a bit heavier than usual.

you crawl between her legs, leaning over her to plant a couple kisses on her lips. her head tilts back as you kiss down her neck, breath quickening. her hands fist the sheets as you trail down her collarbone, to the valley between her breasts, down her stomach, and finally to the waistband of her pants. you look up, eyes meeting hers and hands coming to rest on her hips.

"can... is this okay? can i take these off?" you slowly rub her hips, keeping your voice soft. you're trying to make her feel as comfortable as you can.

"y-yeah, uh," vi clears her throat, taking a deep breath. "go for it."

you nod, beginning to slowly slide her pants down, and eventually off her ankles. you run your hands up and down her thighs, trying to soothe her.

"you're so pretty, vi. so, so gorgeous. are you okay?" you query, resting your head on her inner thigh as you stare up at her. your breath hits dangerously close to where she wants you, causing her to try and squeeze her thighs together.

"mmh- yeah, fine. want you so bad." she pants, voice taking on a higher pitch than usual. she's doing her best to keep quiet, you can tell.

"yeah? i'm sure you do, baby. let's get these off." you smile at the neediness in her voice, moving to slowly pull her boxers off. it takes everything in you not to let out a moan at how pretty she looked.

vi's pussy was already soaked. she was practically dripping onto her sheets already, you hadn't realized how long you'd been staring until she closed her legs. you immediately pushed them back open, earning a gasp from her. you reached one hand up, running your index finger through her folds to see how she'd react. she almost jumped out of her skin, hips jerking with a sharp gasp.

"fuck! baby-" she whined, immediately covering her mouth with her hands. you smiled, giggling at how desperate she was already.

"aww, what is it? you need me that bad, huh?" you ask, voice falsely saccharine. you ran your finger through her heat again, dragging it more firmly over her clit.

"uh huh! mmf, please, please! i need it." vi begs, turning her head to bury her face in the thin pillow. it wasn't doing much to hide her, but you wouldn't tell her that. you did, however, warn her.

"okay, baby, okay. i'm gonna put one finger in, alright? is that okay?" you continue rubbing her outer thigh with your free hand. you kept a close eye on her face, half of it still visible, for any signs of discomfort or pain.

that's the question that made vi look up at you, her expression already looking fucked out despite you having not even done anything. she nods, a string of quiet begs coming from her. that's all you need to push your finger in, watching as vi's hips twitch slightly. she brings her hand to her mouth, eyes squeezing shut as you push your finger in and out. you do that for awhile, trying to get her used to the feeling.

it doesn't take her long before she's already begging for a second, and of course you oblige. who are you to decline a pretty girl whos asking so nicely? a second finger being pushed in draws a low groan from her, back arching.

"that feel good, sweetheart?" you scissor your fingers, pace gentle as you let her adjust. she doesn't properly answer, just whines and pushes her hips down on your hand faster.

"aww... such a slut for me, huh? so greedy." you tease, voice slightly condescending. your words draw a high pitched whine from her. you watch as her hands move to fist the sheets, eyes looking down between her thighs.

"please? more, i need more- oh god!" vi's words quickly cut off whenever you hit a gummy spot inside her after hooking your fingers. her hips jerk into your hand, moans more freely spilling from her lips.

"ah, there we go. you sound so pretty, baby." you smile, happy she was enjoying herself so much. you angled your fingers to keep hitting that bundle of nerves in her, drawing moan after moan and whine after whine. vi had given up on muffling herself, she knew she was probably waking up the whole block but she couldn't care less.

she felt way too good, feeling the electricity run through her body. the muscles in her stomach tightened, back arching further off the bed as she panted. vi couldn't help it, her hand reached to grab the hand you had on her outer thigh. she squeezed it, and almost immediately, all of the tension in her body released. pleasure washed over her like a wave in the ocean, and her body went lax. she was breathing heavy, eyes closed, hand death gripping yours.

you pull your fingers out of her, licking them clean before trailing kisses up her thighs, over her stomach, all the way up to her face. you take a second to dip down and lick the rest of her clean, not bothering trying to clean the sheets knowing laundry day was tomorrow. once she lets your hand go, you both sit up and face each other.

vi is still panting, but she's breathing easier now. "oh my god. does that always feel that good?"

"yeah, pretty much. god, you looked so pretty." you praise, moving her hair out of her face and gently cupping her cheek.

she blushes bright red, looking down instead of making eye contact. "h-hey! you can't just say that. you were doing all the work." she argues.

"hush, you did good too. i'm proud of you for going out of your comfort zone for me." you smile softly at her, thumb caressing her cheek. "let's get your clothes back on, yeah? you can sleep in my bed tonight." you offer.

vi looks up at you and nods immediately. "sounds good to me! lucky we did this before laundry day..." she shakes her head playfully, standing up and stretching before bending to pick up her clothes.

"i'm tempted to hide your clothes from you so i can see your body for longer." you tease, watching as she slides her boxers and pants back on.

she giggles, turning around to look at you as she puts her shirt on. "you hide my clothes, i'll never get another tattoo." she jokes back, knowing how much you'd been begging her to get another tattoo from you. she looked so pretty inked up, how could you not?

"hey! okay okay, no hiding clothes!" you stand up, grabbing her hands. "you truly are gorgeous, though." you say, sighing as you stare into her eyes with adoration. vi leans to kiss you, pulling you over to your bed.

"whatever you say, babe." she lays down, gesturing for you to lay beside her. you do, resting your head on her chest and closing your eyes.

"i love you, violet."

"i love you too."

a/n: i am SO sorry this took me so long, i was dealing with a lot of shit this week and part of last, on top of going through a big period of feeling more ace so 😅 working on this was difficult, but i'm finally done!! i'm very inexperienced at writing smut, so i apologize if any of this sounds cringy or bad. thank you for the request, anon, and i hope you request again !! i loved this idea <3

[tidalparadigm]

Early Bird

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (Gender neutral)

CW: Explicit sexual content (Minors DNI), Explicit Consent, Alcohol consumption

WC: 3.1k

Summary: Waking up at home after a long night out is already an ordeal. But waking up in someone else's bed with no recollection of how you got there is another can of worms entirely.

Sunlight streamed in through the windows, glaring unpleasantly into your eyes as you blinked. You had just woken up, body stiff and throat sore from partying with your friends all night. 

You had gone out as a group to celebrate one of your close friends' birthdays. You’d exchanged presents and gotten ready together at her apartment before heading out. Fast forward several bars later, and you were feeling better than you had in months. 

The alcohol in your system had gotten rid of almost all your embarrassment as you danced and flirted unabashedly with strangers. 

There was one guy in particular that you had been eyeing up from your table. He was with a group of men that had arrived shortly after you and your friends.

You had watched him talk animatedly to the people surrounding him. Raising his hands and gesturing in ways that made his biceps flex tantalizingly. 

The rest of the night passed in a blur. You remember eventually building up the courage to go talk to him and then nothing. You couldn’t remember how you got home, where your friends were, or what happened to the (hot) man at the bar. 

You blinked again into the sunlight and sat up in bed. Yawning, you stretched out your arms above your head until you felt the stiffness start to abate. It wasn’t until you blinked again and took in your surroundings did you start to panic. 

The bed you had slept in was not yours. The sheets were a dark grey and the unfamiliar blankets were messy where they wrapped around your legs. The desk shoved in the corner of the room was unfamiliar, as was the nightstand next to the bed. 

Your feet were bare, shoes most likely discarded at the entrance to the apartment but your clothes were still on. Still, you wrapped the sheets around you in an attempt to cover yourself more. 

Your eyes were still darting across the room trying to figure out where you were when the door creaked open. 

Standing there, bathed in sunlight, hair still messy from sleep was the man from the bar last night. He smiled shyly at you when he noticed you were awake before walking over and placing a glass of water down on the nightstand beside you. 

“Good morning, I hope you slept well. I uh, brought you some water, but please let me know if there’s anything else you need,” he chuckled to himself quietly. “I guess you had a long night last night so…” he let himself trail off. 

You gratefully took a sip of the water as he spoke, cheeks flushing as he finished his sentence.

“Would you mind telling me what happened last night? The way you’re putting it makes it seem like we…did something.” 

“Oh my gosh, no, not like that, I’m so sorry, I should explain.” He started, the look in his eyes clearly panicked as you stared at him in horror. 

“Nothing happened last night, well, stuff did happen last night, but nothing like that.” At this point, the man was stuttering, blush high on his cheeks as he tried to look anywhere but at you. 

“The way you're talking, you're not making me any less concerned.” You began, “I can’t remember much from last night, so please just tell me what happened.”

“Ah, alright, that sounds like a good idea.” He took a long breath, trying to gather himself before he started talking. “First of all, my name’s Chan, and this,” He gestured around the two of you, “is my apartment.” 

You nodded, having gathered most of that from your surroundings, but pleased to put a name to the handsome stranger's face.

“So last night,” he continued, “Some of my friends and I went out to a bar, just for drinks and to catch up. By the time you came up to me, most of them had already left. Actually, I was just about to head home myself.” He chuckled. 

“Ah.” You nodded to yourself, burying your face in your hands. “I think I remember that part, god, this is so embarrassing.” 

“It’s not too bad,” Chan said, smiling sympathetically, “But we talked for a while and drank some more. By the time you said you wanted to leave with your friends, they were already gone. I think they might’ve texted you, but your phone was dead, so we couldn’t check.”  

Instinctively, you reached towards your back pocket where you always kept your phone, only to find it empty. 

“Oh, I um, plugged it in when I got up this morning, it's on the bedside table.” Chan rubbed the back of his neck, obviously self-conscious of touching your belongings. 

Quickly reaching towards the table to your right, you powered on the device. Sure enough, your lock screen was flooded with missed calls and texts from your friends telling you that they were leaving and making sure you got home safe. 

You sent an apologetic text to the group chat and assured them you were okay before plugging your phone back in and setting it down once again. 

“So after that,” Chan started again, “I didn’t really know what to do, and you were drunk, so I just brought you back here and slept on the couch because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Ah, I really appreciate it.” You said, before stretching your arms and legs again. You pushed the covers off of yourself and stood up. “Honestly, I feel horrible for intruding and making you sleep on the couch in your own home. Is there anything I can help with before I head out?”

“I um,” Chan’s face was bright red again. 

It was only then that you noticed you were still in your outfit from last night, a cropped shirt that rode up your stomach as you stretched, and short, tight-fitting shorts that hugged your thighs and ass. 

“There shouldn’t be anything really,” Chan said, and your attention snapped back to him, face still flushed but now slightly turned away from you as if he was trying to protect your modesty. 

He cleared his throat. “If you want to stay a little longer, you can.” He offered. “I made breakfast, and I have some medicine if you have a headache at all. 

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude, and you’ve already done so much for me.” You trailed off, hesitant to accept his offer. 

“It wouldn’t be a bother at all,” Chan stated confidently, as he turned to face you once more. “Besides, I already made too much food to eat by myself, so it’d be a waste if you left.”  

“In that case, I’d love to stay for breakfast.” You paused, “But, do you think you could show me to the bathroom first?” 

He smiled and nodded, escorting you to the restroom in the hallway outside his bedroom. 

“The kitchen is just this way,” he gestured vaguely to the right. “I’m going to set the table, so just come find me when you’re done.” 

As he left, you shut the door behind you and stared at yourself in the mirror. For after a night out, you looked pretty good. You had slept well enough that you couldn’t see any dark eye bags below your eyes, and your head wasn’t pounding like it usually would. 

You finished up in the bathroom quickly after that, stealing a towel to wash your face and scavenging a spare toothbrush from its packaging in the drawers below the sink. 

Chan was sitting at the kitchen table when you finally made your way to the kitchen. He greeted you with a smile as he gestured over to what you assumed was your plate. 

The food almost looked too good to be true. It was hard to believe that he had cooked it in the short time he had in the morning. 

You ate in relative silence, only talking once you were both finished. He waved you off when you tried to do the dishes, insisting that it was alright. 

“I just feel bad, you’ve helped me out so much this morning, doing the dishes is the least I could do.” 

“I don’t mind.” Chan countered. “It’s a chore I actually enjoy.” He paused briefly, looking thoughtful. “You could clean off the counter, though, if you want. It got a bit messy while I was cooking.” 

You accepted eagerly, wanting to be helpful in some way. 

“So,” Chan started, “What were you doing out last night?” He asked, trying to sound casual.

“I was celebrating a friend's birthday.” You replied. “We had actually been to several other places, I’m glad we ended up at the bar though.” 

“Oh, why’s that?” 

“Because I got to meet you.” You said. Being careful to keep your expression neutral as you try not to blush. 

“Yeah,” Chan responded with a hum before turning towards you. “Why’s that?” 

You gave him a pointed look up and down, letting your eyes linger on his arms before meeting his eyes and biting your lip. 

“There’s a reason I talked to you last night, you know.” You took a cautious step forward, hoping that you weren’t reading the situation wrong. 

“Yeah,” Chan repeated, stepping forward and effectively closing the distance between the two of you. You were in each other's space now, almost chest to chest. “There’s a reason why I took you back here last night, you know.” He smirked as he maneuvered you so you were pressed against the counter.

“And why’s that?” You asked innocently, blinking at him as he placed his arms on either side of you, caging you in. 

“Because you looked absolutely stunning, baby.” He stated, pressing his face to the side so he could speak directly into your ear. “Because I wanted to do things to you that would’ve gotten us kicked out of the bar.”

You had had enough, you reached out to thread your fingers in his hair and pulled his head back before slamming your mouths together. He gasped in what seemed like surprise before reaching up to cup your face gently in his hands. 

He groaned into your mouth and rolled his hips up against yours. You gasped at the friction, grinding back down to chase after him. 

“God I wish you were sober last night.” He moaned against you, pressing sloppy kisses to your lips before trailing his mouth down your neck.

“Would’ve made you forget your own name darling.” He licked up your pulse, feeling the rapid beat of your heart. “Would’ve made you scream for me.” 

You gasped, throwing your head back as you lifted yourself onto the counter. You wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him closer as you let out a high-pitched whine. 

“Doesn’t matter now,” he grumbled as he pulled away briefly to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “I can make you scream today.” 

You gasped, reaching blindly for his hands to help pull the shirt over your head. He followed suit, practically ripping his own off as you started to unbutton your shorts, eager to feel him deep inside you. 

You managed to get the button undone and the zipper down before Chan grabbed your chin and forced you to meet his eyes. He looked like a man starved, eyes hungry, practically drooling at the sight of your exposed chest. 

Your own eyes dropped to his now exposed torso and you almost drooled. You should have expected it, given his biceps, but his whole stomach was toned. Hard muscle shaped into a mouthwatering form. You let your hand trace his stomach, one trailing up to give his pec an appreciative squeeze. 

He groaned at that, catching your wrist in his own hand and bringing it up to his lips to press a sweet kiss there. But Chan didn’t stop there, he kept trailing kisses up your arm till he reached your chest. 

“Are you sure you want this, darling?” 

The words took you by surprise but you nodded, unable to form words and Chan practically whined, letting his mouth have free reign over your body. 

He bit and sucked until you were sure that your torso had been transformed into a work of art. The sensation was everywhere, his tongue, lips, and hands were all over your body, seeming to leave scorching trails in their wake. You couldn’t help but let your mouth fall open as you panted and moaned for more. 

“Ah, you’re so filthy, baby.” He punctuated each word by trailing a kiss further down your chest. “Letting me have you like this on the kitchen counter.” You groaned, and he reached where your shorts still clung to your hips. 

Without hesitation he pulled them and your underwear down your legs, letting you shimmy them off as he stepped between your legs again, pressing right up to your now-exposed skin. 

“You have no idea how good you look right now do you?” He whispered in your ear, nipping at your neck before smiling into your skin. 

You could hardly think, all he had done was kissed you but you were so far gone already. He was standing right between your legs, so close to where you wanted him. You tried to loop your legs around his waist again to pull him closer but he caught you by your thighs, spreading them apart and letting your arousal drip onto the counter, soaking the freshly cleaned surface below. 

“You’re so wet for me baby. Is this what you want darling?” He smiled sweetly at you, a stark contrast to how he ground his still-clothed dick into you. “You want me right here.” 

You gasped and nodded, leaning back until your shoulders hit the countertop and Chan was looming above you from where he still stood between your legs. 

“Words darling.” he prompted, teasing his fingers along the inside of your thighs. Feather-light touches that made you shiver in anticipation.  

“Ah, yes Chan please!” You babbled, “God, want you so bad, please I’ll do anything.” 

“Just like that baby,” He grunted clearly not unaffected. “Keep talking like that, I wanna hear you.”

“Fuck, please Chan, I need you!”

You gasped as you felt a finger circle your entrance, dipping in just slightly before retreating. The sensation made you groan in pleasure as Chan drank in each and every one of your expressions and noises. 

He leaned down once again, letting your mouths mold together as you moaned into each other. Chan fingered you open like his life depended on it, teasing and crooking his fingers just so until you were gasping into his mouth and seeing stars. 

He moved down to your neck, biting a sucking in earnest until you were drooling and whining uncontrollably from all the sensations. 

You almost cried when he pulled his fingers out feeling so empty. You didn’t know why he pulled away until you saw him a few steps away discarding his sweatpants and boxers. He’d procured a condom from some unknown drawer and was busy rolling it over himself before he stepped back into your space and you felt the press of his cock against your entrance. 

“Please tell me I can.” Chan started, looking at you with eyes full of want. “I need it so bad please let me fuck you.” 

“Chan Please.” You whined, voice cracking as you begged. “Please fuck me, I need you too.” 

That was all it took for him to snap. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, bullying himself into you as your jaw dropped and your eyes rolled back in your head. The world had narrowed down to just him. Chan was all you could feel and think about. 

His hips met yours and he gave an experimental grind, pushing even deeper into you as your hips were pressed flush together.

“Are you ok, baby?” He panted above you, his jaw was clenched almost like he was holding back and you couldn’t help but thread your fingers into his hair and pull him down to kiss him. 

“Please…” You whimpered, wanting nothing more but for him to let go. 

He groaned pushing his face into the crook of your shoulder so he could bite and suck at your collarbone.  

It started off slow; he pulled out carefully, like he was scared that you would break before pushing back in slowly. The sensation made your back arch as you tried to push his hips back to meet him, urging him to go deeper, harder, faster. 

He obliged quickly, speeding up until he was practically pushing you up the counter. He grabbed your waist with enough force to bruise as he pulled you down to meet him. 

You were moaning unabashedly, head fuzzy as you could feel a familiar pressure building within you. Your moans increased in volume and soon you were damn near screaming his name as he continued to thrust into you, somehow increasing in speed as you cried out for him. 

“God baby…” he sounded breathless, “You make me feel so good, so tight for me.” he gripped your waist harder and repositioned himself so that you two were face to face. 

Chan looked so gorgeous, eyes heavy-lidded and hair sticking to his forehead as he panted into your mouth.  

“Please, darling, please,” he started, though you didn’t know what he was begging for. “Need you to cum, need to make you feel good.” 

He moved one of his hands down to your lower stomach and pressed down right where his cock was settled inside you. 

You moaned high and loud into his mouth as you tumbled over the edge, squeezing your eyes shut, and instinctively tightening around his cock as he thrust a few more times before cumming as well. He collapsed on top of you, pressing every inch of his body against yours and relishing in the post-orgasmic bliss. 

You would’ve stayed there much longer if your back didn’t start aching in protest. He pushed lightly at his shoulders, and he got off of you easily, wincing slightly from overstimulation as he pulled out and discarded the condom.  

You rolled your shoulders and hopped off the counter. Chan embraced you as soon as you were standing, practically picking you up as he hugged you. 

“I don’t know what you have going on today, but I’d love it if you wanted to stay a bit longer so I can take care of you.” he smiled at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling as you kissed him on the cheek. “We could cuddle and watch a movie. And I could cook dinner for you later.” He offered.  

“That sounds wonderful.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: This is my first post on Tumblr and my first time writing smut, so hopefully I did alright. Comments and kind feedback are always appreciated :)

-T!dal

[belovedenzo]

for the camera || lorenzo berkshire

summary; If you try and leave Lorenzo, he'll spread your videos all over Hogwarts. Then he'll remind you who gets to decide when you can leave. Revenge p*rn.

warnings; smut 18+! sharing someone's videos, cheating, very very toxic enzo, manipulating asf. he's in his super villain era

words; 2.5k

notes; I love to see that you guys have been enjoying my stories so here's another! enjoy :3 open for requests and moots!

 It’s never been a secret to anybody that Slytherin’s ‘sweet golden boy’ didn’t exactly live up to his clean and clear reputation. Maybe if it wasn’t for beloved, sweet amber eyes of his- he’d be held accountable for his actions. Lorenzo Berkshire is simply known for his charm- which he uses against everyone around him. Including you.

 You knew this- you genuinely knew this but caught feelings against your own better judgment. Now you’re in this sticky position- deciding on if you can handle his overly flirtatious personality. At least- that’s what he swears it’s due to- his nasty habit of ending up in the arms of other girls. You never took him as the loyal type anyways- although it still stung once it actually happened a few times. 

 Every weekend a party is thrown in the slytherin common room, primarily by Lorenzo and his friends. Last weekend was no exception, meaning every body would gather together and do substances that you could probably get in trouble for. These parties have always been like a hunting ground it seems to the boys, the one you’ve been sleeping with included. That didn’t seem to change when you started seeing him; and you’re honestly unsure why you had almost hoped it would. 

 Every time you have sat and watched from a far as Enzo whispers in the ears of other pretty girls in your year. He floods your mind with excuses every time you try and confront him-

 “It’s just the way I talk- we are just friends.”

 “Why are you acting like you can hear what I’m saying to them? I’m doing nothing wrong.”

 “You can’t accuse me just because you’re jealous.” 

  You always catch him grinning smugly after you give into his whining- knowing he got what he wanted. This time however, his hand was just a little too low for excuses and nothing he could say would have defended him here really. It was obvious he wanted this girl. You are now left to really decide if you want to continue seeing him; might as well get out while you still can, right? While it won’t hurt quite as bad. 

 After every class you find yourself trying to hide from him- trying to avoid the inevitable confrontation. The last time you had seen him wasn’t pretty and he knew you were at your breaking point with him. However, today was the day you ran into him, like he had also caught on to your avoidance and began too sought after you. He had quickly pulled you into a currently empty study room and that is now, how you ended up in this situation. 

 “What do you mean you’re done with me?” It may have not been easy to muster up this kind of courage but it had to be done and and by the expression on his face, he’s not taking it very well. “You can’t break up with me.” His voice is laced with irritation, maybe even some concern. The room is dimly lit, but through this you can still see his eyebrows knitted together into a scowl. While you expected him to be upset, definitely not not this upset.

 You sighed in deep, attempting to keep your composure- you have to stay strong. “I’m done Enz- you can’t convince me.” You held confidence in your tone and body language. “I’m tired of watching you flirt with other girls.” Your eyes attempted not to roll into the back of your head as you spoke. “I can’t date you.” You threw your hands up in defeat, watching as his expression contorts again. 

 Before you can move any farther away, merlin forbid near the door- he grabs your wrist with his long fingers. “Hey now- don’t be like that. You like me.” He gives you that look, the same look he gives you any time he wants another piece of you. This look always manages to weaken you and bring down the guards you hold up. 

 You look back at him with pleading eyes to not do this and just let you walk away. You do like him- but at what cost? How foolish can you act before it’s too foolish? But when his eyes don’t falter that tells you he won’t be giving you up easily. 

 He liked his little convenience. The one that would be there at the end of the day if he ever actually felt the human emotion of loneliness.  That’s the kind of blanket Lorenzo has always needed- reaches for, and he’s gotten used to you. He didn’t even let your lips part to speak a word before he was closing in the distance once again. “You can’t leave me, y/n. You don’t really want to leave me.” He lets out what sounds like almost an amused chuckle. 

 As usual- his reaction is to try and manipulate and coax you into what he wants. As usual… it’s working. He’s gentle at first, using his thumb to rub circles onto the bone of your wrist in his grasp. That is until you go to pull away and reject him once more that his grasp tightens. “Lorenzo, I-“

 An almost malicious like chuckle surfaces from his throat- your words coming to a stop once again as he pulls you in, psychically and theoretically. “You what baby?” He teases you as if your words mean nothing, because they don’t to him. His eyes suck you in while making you feel so small at the same time as he towers over you with his long, broad figure. “What’s the matter?” His words are filled with a faux pout of concern for your feelings. 

 Your eyes narrow, deciding that today is not the day you give into his intoxicating antics. You go to pull away this time, with more force than the last. His eyes never leave yours, watching your defiance take place like it’s simply a temper tantrum. 

 His grip hardens again, along with his eyes as he quickly stops your movements once again. “Stop.” This time he sounds serious, losing the sardonic tone. He is tired of playing these childish little game with you.

 A rock forms in your throat and stomach as he presses a red bruise into the skin of your wrist. His other hand flies to your hip- or attempts to. His hand comes in contact with the air as you tug your body away again, this time with all the strength that you have. 

 For a moment, you feel as though you had finally proven your point about leaving and gained your freedom from this confrontation. You had gotten yourself fully turned around and headed towards the door this time but to your dismay and shock, two hands grab your hips from behind, craning their fingers around your front. His big hands had your hips in a tight lock. 

 “Where do you think you’re going?” He pulls you in, your ass pressed against his front, nice and close- just the way he likes it. “We don’t have to argue.” He says soft against the back of your head, his tall frame hovering over the back of you. He leans down to be level with your neck, placing a soft kiss against the nape. 

 Barely a mewl is brave enough to escape your lips as your entire body tenses, his lips tickling the back of your neck. “Besides, you wouldn’t want those videos of us going anywhere would you?” Those videos.

 This makes your eyes widen, lips parting in shock. Lorenzo has always been known for being a persuasive little shit. So when he begged and begged for you to let him take a video with a camera from the muggle world, you just couldnt object. You should have known that would back fire. He has multiple intimate videos of him pounding into you at different angles. Worst of all; he has a few of your mouth wrapped around his cock as he gags the life out of you. The more your thoughts begin to race, your heart follows in dread.

 “I’ll find a way to make sure everybody watches those videos of you.” His breathe is warm on the shell of your ear. “They’ll all see how good of a slut you are for me.” As he speaks, he’s slowly inching you body forward to exactly where he wants you. 

 A squeal exerts from your chest and your knees buckle to the table in front of you, leaving you now bent over in front of him, his hands still gripping the sides of your hips. “But you’d like that wouldn’t you?” A gasp leaves your lips a second after his grip yanks your hips in the direction of his. 

 “N..No.” You manage to stutter. The idea of anyone seeing you like that brings tears to your eyes but he has you in a vulnerable spot and you can’t protest. Against your own will, you feel a pit form in your stomach and a burn between your legs. 

 “You wouldn’t?” He says softly, leaving a warm kiss to ease his cold words. “Then I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere.” You know Lorenzo well enough to know that he isn’t just yanking your chain for a reaction, his threats are sincere and he’d do it with a smile on his face. He leaves a few more gentle kisses around the nape of your neck before pulling away. 

 This sudden loss of contact made a soft sigh leave you, a chuckle coming from him at the sound. “Desperate.” Is all he says before pushing you onto the ground. You fell to the hard wood of the school floor with a thunk, earning another short chuckle from the boy above you. 

 Your eyes trail up to meet his that shown a darker cast than usual, making your nerves stand on end. You should get up and run, or better yet stand up for yourself but all you can do is watch an he now steps back closer. Apart of you likes the effect this attitude of his is having on you. 

 His eyes stay on yours as he unbuckles his belt. “Come here.” His voice has finally lost all of it’s fake charm and sweeteners.

  Maybe it was the bass of his voice but it commanded you so you crawled closer, finally closing the distance. You wondered to yourself if you look as pathetic as you feel. His eyes were bored into you from below him as a smirk crawls onto his lips. 

 He motions to his pants, letting you do the rest of the work. “Go on.” He doesn’t seem to have much patience and even if he does you don’t want to test it- not after his threats were made. “Show me how much you need me.” 

 What you do next would leave you deplorable. Your hands quickly make work of removing loosened belt, tugging his pants half way down his legs along the way. “Enzo… please don’t show anyone that-“ 

 With that, you remove the final layer and come face to face with his already hardened cock. “We’ll see- be good.” He demands- cutting you off by shoving his member down your throat which catches you off guard. A gasp tumbles from his lips as the warmth of your mouth covers the tip. “So, good.” The taste of precut floods your taste buds.

 You suck in your cheeks, doing your best to hollow out your mouth for his girth to fill. He makes another satisfied grunt before slamming the rest of himself down your throat with force. Usually you’d tell him to slow down and give you a moment before he chokes you to death, but the fear of disappointing him fills your mind. What if you don’t do an adequate job and he shows your friends, professors- or worse; his friends and professors. No body would ever look and respect you the same again. 

 He lets out a few sounds of praise, easing you into thinking you’re not doing a terrible job. He doesn’t let you do this for long however until he has you bent over that same table once again. Your mouth wasn’t good enough to teach the lesson he needed to teach.

 “You feel so good baby, maybe I don’t want anyone else to see you like this.” His words practically purr out of his throat as he positions himself behind you and slides in like it’s your pussy’s second nature to consume his cock. He pounds into you, leaving no time for you to adjust to his size. 

 Soft and seraphic moans of need and want  fill the atmosphere of the empty room around you, bouncing off the walls. He sure does have a way of always hitting your achiest, gummiest spots. “Enz…” His name falls between your lips- which just causes another grunt of satisfaction to come from behind you. 

 You crane your neck painfully to see a smirk forming on his cheeks. It’s just a second before his hand comes up and nearly slams your face back down into the table- but not hard enough to cause pain. He gives your hair a small tug as a yelp ties into your moans.  

 “It couldn’t hurt for me to record a few more, right baby?” The soft tone that leaves his lips is polarizing compared to his rouch touch. He was up to no good. You hear him press the record button after dragging out the small muggle camera from his back pocket, a sigh escaping your lips at the sound. A realization that he once again- had you.

 A depraved chuckle leaves him as he pounds into you at a now even faster rate. He was prepared to give the camera a real show. “Now say my name again- this time for the camera.” He reaches over your body and mercilessly yanks your hair once again, to show that pretty little fucked out face to the camera. 

 You chant his name like a prayer while he smiles to himself, watching the sight in front of him unfold. You weren’t ever going to try and leave him again and he’s made sure of that. If you do he’ll simply show everyone at Hogwarts- your newest sex tape. 

love, spell

taglist; just tagging blogs I really like @shyamanuensis @prythiansprincess @nottslove @redeemingvillains @riddlesbunny @nottsamor @nottsbaby @nottsstar @nottsluvv @riddleswhcre @riddlesrizzler @ur-local-wizard @enzosbabyangel @nemesyaaa @writingsbychlo @obsessedwithceleste @anawritez-posts @hayleygrrr @viperify @draco-malfoys-lovergirl @malfoysanctuary @pizzaapeteer @riddlesgrl @amongemeraldclouds @suugarbabe @musingsofahufflepuff @theosbae @dearmisshoney lmk if you wanna be on or off the taglist!

[httpsdrewstarkey]

birthday boy

authors note: tumblr, pls for the love of god don’t delete this and make it show up in the tags 🤚🏼

warnings: birthday sex 18+!!!

Y/N stood in the bathroom, looking at her reflection as she took in the black lace lingerie hugging her body, the intricate patterns tracing over her skin, the soft robe slipping just past her shoulder. She had a small smile on her face—the nerves and excitement fluttering in her stomach.

Tonight was his birthday, and the evening had been full of laughter and celebration as close family and friends gathered to celebrate him. But now, with the house quiet, their house dimly lit as she walked through it. She leaned against the bedroom doorframe overlooking the living room, one leg crossing the other, her hand grazing the side of her thigh as she watched him. He was relaxed on the couch, his long legs sprawled out, almost taking up the entire couch as his fingers grazed and tugged at his lips, eyes slowly making their way down her body, his smile growing wider.

“Happy birthday to you…” she sang softly, her voice barely above a whisper, trying to hold back a playful grin as she moved towards him, trying not to laugh.

His eyes followed her, as she took her time making her way over to him. She wanted to appreciate the way his eyes never left sight of her, making him look like a starved man, as she came to a stop in between his legs. He straightened up slightly, his hands reaching out to her, fingertips tracing gentle circles along the lace at her hips, and up and down her thighs. She made herself comfortable in his lap, her knees sinking slightly into the couch, as she grabbed the base of his neck. They made eye contact as he gripped her waist to pull her closer, leaning forward slightly, their lips barely touching.

“You know, I’ve got a few birthday wishes of my own that haven’t come true yet,” he said his voice low, as his hand came up to pull the strap of her outfit down, giving her a small kiss. She looked at him, smiling, as she leaned in to kiss him.

“Ah, ah, patience,” He said, a smirk falling on his face, “Think I’ll take my time unwrapping my gift tonight.”

She knew he wanted to take charge like he always did, but tonight, she wanted to praise and celebrate him in her own way. Summoning her courage, she stood up from his lap and tossed the robe aside, letting it fall to the floor.

She leaned down to him, tracing her finger along his jawline. “I think I’ll take my time tonight, birthday boy,” she said, her voice trashing him as she watched his reaction, fully aware of the effect her boldness had on him.

“Let’s see how patient you can be.” She dropped to her knees, keeping her eyes on him, her hands palming him through his sweatpants, she eagerly tugged at his pants signaling to him what to do. He lifted his hips as she pulled them down, his cock springing free. She immediately wrapped her lips around the tip, moaning as she tasted the pre-cum leaking out, her eyes rolling back.

“God, yes,” He moaned out, grabbing her hair, and pushing her mouth further down to take more of him. “C’mon, baby, need to fuck this greedy mouth” Her hand began to move up and down his cock, twirling her tongue around the tip, watching his face scrunch up with pleasure as she spit on his cock. Her hand began to move faster, cupping his balls in her other hand, as the tip repeatedly hit the back of her throat. His hips jolted, forcing her to take him again as he tightened the grip on her hair looking down at her.

“Fuck, gonna make me cum. Such a good girl,” She was a mess, her hair was starting to become messy, her spit all down his cock, as her eyes began to tear up. He moaned loudly as she continued to take him like a champ, determined to make him finish in her mouth. His hips jolted again, he could feel himself getting close, both of his hands grabbed the sides of her head, forcing her to keep him in her mouth as his cum made its way down her throat. She looked up at him, wanting to watch him fall apart for her as he threw his head back on the couch, the warm liquid starting to spill from her lips. She pulled back a little bit, swallowing the rest of it, and wiping the sides of her mouth.

She stood up quickly, the hardwood floor making her knees hurt, itching to get out of her outfit, wanting to feel him stretch her out. She threw the outfit down, crawling back onto his lap reaching to take his shirt off. His hands found their way back to her waist pulling her into a kiss as he lined himself up to her entrance, breaking the kiss.

“Think I deserve to fuck you however I want tonight.” He said pushing his cock into her, not giving her enough to adjust. She moaned out, her head falling back as she put her hands on his shoulders to balance herself. His hips were moving at a brutal pace as he nipped at her neck, his hand finding her clit.

“Yes, yes,” she moaned into his neck, “Need to come, please”

“You will,” he said, toying with her clit, speeding up faster so he could feel her come undone around him. She could feel it inching closer, her stomach starting to cramp as he continued to fuck her through it. She squeezed the base of his neck, feeling the orgasm wash over her, as she began to match his pace for more friction, moaning loudly.

“That’s it, so needy to get off on daddy’s cock,“ he could feel her orgasm clench around him as he gave her ass a small slap feeling his own orgasm approaching. He shoved her hips down, coming undone inside of her, moaning her name loudly.

“Fuck, you’re a dream, baby,” he said pulling her into a kiss, neither of them wanting to move.

“Another round birthday boy?”

“Yeah, think I need some dessert.”

tagging some of my favorite girls: @nemesyaaa @starkeyslove @novagreen04 @archiveofvirtue