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#I HAD THIS AS A DREAM AND I HAD TO WRITE IT
writingmeraki · 1 day
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...oops? ( f1! texts )
❝ in which you accidentally message the wrong number talking shit ( read:thirst ) about them but turns out the number isn't who you think it was.
( or where the f1 drivers are the annoyances of your life and you unknowingly bitch about them to their faces. )
feat. charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, oscar piastri, max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell. warnings : cussing. tons of it.
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a/n : my f1 writing ( technically smau) debut!?! pretty much with the new theme comes the entire change of posting format hehe also i now realise how random this is....like but it is sort of based on this dream i had lmfaooo except it was actually someone who i absolutely hate..also i cant have any beef with oscar and lewis idk I tried guys but they're both soo sweet looking its hard to get mad at them for a sane reason ( not that the rest is sane because 99% is just being mad at them for being hot BYE) I hope you liked this and pls let me know what you think!!!
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i am opening reqs for f1 and taglist for this so let me know if you want to be added cause I do have a lot more planned !
all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.
writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024
feedback is always appreciated 💌 ! links : main navi ! | f1 masterlist ! | info !
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requiemforthepoets · 2 days
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hii do you write for franco? if yes can i request a fic where reader is short and insecure about her height so she’s afraid their relationship won’t survive his “f1 career” cause of the lifestyle and all the girls he’s going to meet so despite really loving him she tries to breakup with him but he won’t let her?
tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine 𖦹 FC43
PAIRINGS: franco colapinto x female!reader
SUMMARY: when you found out that franco will be racing for williams racing, you were so proud of him. though at the back of your mind, you can’t help but overthink about your relationship with him now that he’s finally in f1.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi! thank you so much for sending your request. it’s my first time writing for franco, but i really had fun. i hope you’ll like this one and it’s up to what you were expecting. enjoy! :)
REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.
WORD COUNT: 1.6k
WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, insecurities (mostly comparing self to others), cursing, low self esteem, overthinking, anxiety, and no use of y/n
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As you stand in the Williams garage, you can clearly hear the hum of the whole circuit buzzing all around, and you can’t help but feel so proud. Franco had just achieved what he had been dreaming of since childhood—his first official race in Formula 1. It should have been one of the happiest moments of your life, watching him stand there, helmet in hand, chatting animatedly with the engineers, that wide grin plastered on his face. You knew how hard he worked for this, how many nights you spent listening to his dreams, encouraging him through the frustrations of karting, and celebrating every win, every milestone. You were there through it all, and here he was now—your Franco, living his dream.
However, alongside the pride that you were feeling, a bitter feeling also crept in. It had been lurking at the back of your mind for days now, only growing stronger with each passing moment. It was not about Franco’s career, but more about where you fit into his new world. The glitz and glamor, cameras that seemed to follow every move, the polished and perfect people that surrounded him—people you had never imagined yourself fitting in with.
Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, had been nothing but sweet to you all weekend. You bonded with her quickly, her kind words and warmth is a welcoming comfort amidst the chaos. Yet, as much as you liked her, being around someone so gorgeous and effortlessly poised had only made you feel even smaller. You weren’t tall or glamorous like her or the other WAGs, nor were you used to the attention, and you barely have a successful career. You were just…you. A university student trying to get by through her classes, someone who barely knew what to do when a camera pointed your way, and someone who couldn’t help but wonder if you were truly cut out for this kind of life.
When Franco finally made his way back to you, you could hardly breathe. He greeted you with that same wide smile and a soft tender kiss on the lips, his eyes still sparkling from the thrill of the race.
“Can you believe it?” He laughed, pulling you into a hug. “I can’t believe I just raced in F1. This is really insane.”
You smiled weakly, arms wrapped around him. Trying to steady your racing heart. “I’m so proud of you,” you murmured against his chest. But the words felt heavy, there was something you needed to say, something you dreaded.
After the media frenzy died down and the team began to clear out, you knew it was time. You asked Franco if the two of you can go to his driver’s room, away from the lights, cameras, and the noise. He nodded and led you towards his driver’s room, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside of you.
When you reached his driver’s room, he locked the room to give you two some privacy. Franco quickly sensed that something was off with you, immediately frowning.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, as your hands shook as you fumbled with the words. “Franco…I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Do what?” His voice is gentle but confused.
“This. All of this.” You gestured around vaguely. “I don’t belong in this kind of world. I don’t look like the other girls in this kind environment, I don’t act like them. I just feel like…I’m not cut out for this, you know. For you.”
He blinked at you, and then—he laughed. A soft incredulous sound that only made your chest tighten. “You’re joking, right?” But you just shook your head, throat tightening painfully. “I’m serious, Franco.”
His smile faltered, eyes searching your face, and then he grew serious. “You’re breaking up with me?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing at all.
You bit your lip, feeling your resolve crack under the weight of his words. “I think I have to.”
Franco stepped closer, shaking his head in disbelief. “No. No way. Hell no. You’re not doing this.” He grabbed your hands, holding them tightly. “Tell me why. What’s really going on?”
You stared at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. How could you even tell him? How could you put into words the overwhelming insecurities that you had been drowning in.
“I’m not enough for this life, for your life,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “I’m just…me. You deserve someone who can handle all of this, someone who doesn’t feel like they are drowning every time the cameras turn their way. I’m scared that this will change us, that it will change you.”
Franco squeezed your hands tighter, forcing you to look at him. “You’re scared?” He asked softly. “Of what exactly? That I’ll stop loving you because I’m in F1 now?”
You nodded, chest tightening as tears began to fill your eyes. “I’m not like them, Franco. I don’t belong here.”
He pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. “Listen to me, and you listen well,” he whispered. “You’ve been with me through everything, literally everything. Since my karting days. You’re the one I want with me, not some random model, not someone from this kind of environment. You.” He gently cupped your face, making sure that you were looking directly into his eyes. “I’m not breaking up with you. Not because of this, not because of anything. I love you so much. If this life makes you uncomfortable, we’ll figure it out. Together.”
You shook your head, still overwhelmed with doubts. “But I don’t know how to—”
“I don’t care,” he interrupted softly. “I don’t really care about any of that. All I care about is you. I’m not losing you just because you think that you’re not enough. You’ve always been more than enough for me.”
Tears finally spilled over, and Franco wiped them away with his thumb. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, okay?” He added.
You let out a choked laugh, burying your face in his chest. “Okay,” you whispered, feeling the weight of your fears slowly start to lift.
Franco kissed the top of your head as he kept you close, his voice soft but firm. “Look at me,” he said, lifting your chin so your eyes met his. “There’s no one else I see in my future but you. No one else who matters like you do. I don’t care about the noise or what other people say. Let them talk all they want, I don’t give a shit. You’re the most important person in my life.”
His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket chasing away the chill of insecurity. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered, how much you wanted to believe him. “But people will judge, Franco. They already are.”
Franco shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care about them. They don’t know you like I do. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and I’ve loved you through it all. That’s what matters, not their opinions.”
You bit your lip, trying to push away the lingering doubts. “It’s just I don’t want to hold you back. You deserve someone who—”
“I already have someone I deserve,” he cut you off, voice unwavering. “You’ve been there for me through everything, you believed in me when no one else did, even when I wasn’t sure I believed in myself. I’m not letting you go because of some stupid insecurities about fitting in with this world. I don’t need someone from this world. All I need is you.”
Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from doubt or fear. They were from the overwhelming love you felt at that moment. “You’re sure?” You whispered, voice trembling. “You’re really sure?”
Franco smiled, the kind of smile that made everything else melt away. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You’re my future, not them. Not anything else. Just you.”
As you stood there in his arms, you let yourself believe it. Because the way he looked at you, the way he spoke, it left no room for any doubts. You were the one he wanted, and that was enough.
After a long moment of silence, just feeling the comfort of being in his arms, you finally pulled back, wiping the last of your tears and giving him a small and sweet smile. The tension that had been weighing on you had lifted, already been replaced by the familiar warmth you always felt around Franco.
You wrinkled your nose playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “Okay, as sweet as this moment is, you really need to freshen up. You stink.” You teased, giving him a playful nudge.
Franco let out a laugh, the sound light and easy. “What? No way, I smell like pure victory,” he grinned, pulling you back into his arms, purposely trying to rub his post-race sweat on you.
“Franco!” You squealed, trying to push him away. “Ew, Franco! You’re all sweaty!”
He laughed harder, his arms tightening around you for a second before he finally let you go, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll go and freshen up,” he said, his grin still wide. “But don’t think I didn’t notice how you were crying on me. If anything, you owe me for that.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, fine. I’ll owe you. Just go clean up before I regret taking you back,” you teased, earning an exaggerated gasp from him.
Franco winked at you before heading off to freshen up, not forgetting to steal a kiss from you. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ve got plans for us to celebrate.” He threw a playful look over his shoulder.
You shook your head with a laugh, feeling lighter than you had in days. The doubts that once felt overwhelming now seemed small in comparison to the love you shared. Franco was right—together, you could figure out everything, just like how you both always do.
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gguk-n · 13 hours
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Hello!! I love your writing style!!
Can you pls do a max verstappen x reader but he’s still into Kelly max is sorry, reader disappeared goes to Korea gets together with jungkook plus now she’s a successful CEO n 2 yrs later she comes back as a baddie fans love her n max regrets
It’s set in 2021 comes back in 2024
P.s make her friends with Charles n Lewis
Thank you hope u take this in consideration
This ask was made in my dreams🥹🥹 thank you to the beautiful nonnie for sending this. I made this as an smau and some writing. I had so much fun making this!!!🫣🫣 hope you enjoy reading this too🥹🥹 changed the timeline a little bit for the story. Max is an ass, sorry. I love Max really but the story needed it
Drifting Into Love
Face Claim- Kim Hye yoon. (Every thing is fiction)
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Max was back the next day. Y/N returned from Belgium and was waiting for Max in her apartment in Monaco. Max was one of the very few people who knew that Y/N came from wealth. Her parents had raised her humbly in hopes that the money won't get to her head and she would be a kind and compassionate human. Right now, she felt anything but kind. She felt like smashing Max to a pulp. How dare he lie to her and who does he think he is to humiliate her like this. If he loved her, he should've stayed with her, she thought.
Max stumbled into her house in a panic. "Schat, why are you here?" Max asked trying to hug her. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I mean't why aren't you home?" he asked. She chuckled. "Max, I will not be in a cheater's house, god knows who all you've brought over." she said shaking her head. "I never brought anyone home. And as for Kelly this was a prior arrangement and I couldn't get out of it" he reasoned. "Then you should've told me. I would've come along. But you lied, you knew what you were doing is wrong, that's why you lied to me." she retaliated. "I, Y/N, schat....please" he stuttered. "You have nothing to say Max, also don't call me that. I'm not your girlfriend." she said. "Don't say that" Max said. "I don't care if you love Kelly, I just wish you hadn't lied to me." she lamented. "I'm sorry, I'll do better. I promise" he tried reasoning. "Max, you don't need to. You clearly still love her. I do not plan on being a home wrecker. I hope you both are happy" Y/N said. "Won't you fight for this? our relationship" he asked now in tears. "No, we stopped being a couple the moment you went back to her" she said with a stoic expression. "I'm sorry. You deserve better" Max said hoping she would stay. "I agree. Now can you leave, I have some work to do" she said ushering Max out.
Unbeknownst to Max, she had cried. The all of yesterday, really and Charles and Lewis were ready to kill Max. She some how convinced them not to. They had spent the whole night consoling her and taking care as she tried to mend her broken heart.
y/n.y/l/n
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Liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 23,976 others
y/n.y/l/n Don't forget to take out the trash🙏🙏
user17 What is going on?? Is this related to Max??😭😭 user18 She said, I ain't no one's second choice🫣🫣 user19 She's so pretty!! I wish I was her❤️❤️ charles_leclerc We can take it out for you👀 lewishamilton me and Charles are great at waste disposal. I can compost too🙂 user20 What does Lewis mean by that??They are scaring me🙃🙃 user21 I think she broke up with Max and obviously her best friends hate him, he cheated on their angel.😳😳 user22 I would also compost a man if he cheated on my bestie, I get it lewishamilton 😤😤
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y/n.y/l/n
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Liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 289,297 others
y/n.y/l/n Gonna miss my fav photographer🫣😘😍
user23 That photographer is doing us all a service😍😍 user24 I didn't know she could look prettier🥹❤️❤️ user25 The first photo will no one talk about it🤨😳😳 arthur_leclerc Are those hands that photographers?🤔🤔 charles_leclerc arthur_leclerc what do you know?😩😩 lewishamilton we have the cutest bestie, the photographer better not be a man😒 user26 I'm scared of having both Lewis and Charles as best friends, they are too over protective🤣🤣
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y/n.y/l/n
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Liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 1,297,229 others
y/n.y/l/n 보고 싶, 돌아와요오빠😭😭💜💜 miss you!! come back oppa
user27 eww!! Oppa you can't date her, you are supposed to end up with me🤮🤮 user28 I don't get what he saw in her??😒😒 user29 Fandom cleanse here I come🤣🤣 user30 She's so pretty. To bag Jungkook, I mean he has taste❤️❤️ charles_leclerc he's the mystery photographer?🤔 lewishamilton can't believe you didn't tell me😤😤 y/n.y/l/n lewishamilton in my defence, you are scary but my boyfriend could take you out ☺️😉 user31 I love the brother sister dynamic Lewis and Y/N have😂😂 user32 she hard launched the fuck out of her relationship❤️❤️🙏 user33 user32 she's staking her claim. I would too, if I was dating Jungkook💜💜😍
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Y/N was walking towards the Ferrari when she bumped into Max. "Hello Max" she smiled. "Hi" he replied. "How have you been?" he asked. "Good. You?" she asked. "Good. Surprise to see you here" he said. "Yeah, my best friends said they missed me so.." she said. "Ah yes, Lewis and Charles" Max mulled. "I'll get going then" she announced. "No, wait" Max stopped her. "I'm sorry" he apologised. "For what?" she asked. "For hurting you. I really did like you." he explained. "me too." she lamented. "Can't we try again" he proposed. She let out a big and loud laugh, making Max embarrassed and heads turn. "Sorry Max, but that ship sailed long ago. Aren't you still with Kelly, though?" she asked. Max didn't say anything. "Don't flip flop, love a woman correctly and truly. Also, I'm engaged." she said pointed at her left hand which had a beautiful large diamond on the ring finger which looked like it had found it's rightful owner. "Wish you good luck and Congratulations on the championship last year" she called out while she walked away. Max could only stare at her as she disappeared from his sight.
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wholoveseggs · 3 days
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Hey girl, I love you and your stories <3
Can I maybe request an enemies to lovers with a female reader and Elijah, which leads to a threesome between her Elijah and Klaus. Maybe with a little punishment and very kinky maybe with a little light bondage and just light beds in general, I'll leave the details up to you
thank you already <333
Captive
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
{Elijah Mikaelson x Klaus Mikaelson x Vampire!Reader} You are being held captive by a group of nasty witches, bring tortured, starved of blood and interrogated night and day... You've lost all hope, until two old enemies show up to save you, and you spend the evening reminiscing and making up for lost time.
♡♡ Thank you lovely anon! Its been so long since I did a ménage à trois with the boys & it's always so much fun to write! ♡♡
7.1k words {hehe} - Warnings: smut, lots of drinking, Klaus being a little shit, oral sex {m! and f! receiving}, a little bondage, praise kink, a little punishment, slight dom!Elijah and Klaus, blood sharing, rough sex, double penetration, overstimulation && aftercare ...
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@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv
@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming
@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse
@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2
@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury
@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28
@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy
@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson
@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp
@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05
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In the dark, dingy cell; there was no way to tell the passage of time. Not that you were in any condition to care about that.
It had been so long, you had forgotten the feeling of sunlight kissing you skin, the smell of flowers in the wind, the sound of birds chirping in the morning, the taste of rich red wine, the laughter of friends. The last few days- weeks? months?- were spent in a haze. Time had become a distant concept.
All you knew now was cold, stale, dirty water, and the constant pain of hunger, and the agony of torture.
At first you blamed your captors, with their unrelenting desire to grab at power. Then you blamed your stupidity, your lack of caution. But most of all you blamed the Mikaelsons, for they were who the witches had targeted. They were the ones you were being tortured for.
If only you had not made such enemies, if only you hadn't gotten involved, you could have lived your immortal life without consequence, without guilt. You would have avoided all the pain, all the torture. Indulging in men of that caliber always came with a price, you just didn't expect it to happen to you.
In a way, it was a mercy that your body had long since given out. That you had become too weak, too hungry, to do much more than lay against the dirty floor, staring blankly ahead. Soon your limbs would stop working, only dust left in your veins. You would desiccate and die a slow, painful death, the only relief would be your own insanity.
It was there, in that dark place, where you accepted your fate. The witch's spells kept you trapped, you were too weak to even crawl out the door, and there was no one who knew where you were, no one who would come for you.
That is, until you felt the cold chill of the witch's magic suddenly disappear, like a weight lifted from your shoulders. Then the sound of fighting outside, the screams of the witches and their death rattles, and the door creaking open. And a cold laugh you never thought you would hear again.
"Isn't this a sight?" Klaus said, crouching down outside of the cell, leaning close to the ground to meet your eyes, "I never thought I'd see you in such a state, little fox."
His tone was light, almost mocking, and his grin was as cold as ever. You blinked a few times, hoping you were imagining things, that the delirium had finally set in. You had experienced plenty of hallucinations since the witch's had captured you.
But he didn't disappear. He stayed, watching you, like a snake waiting to strike.
"She looks awful," He mused, looking you over.
"And she smell even worse," another voice chimed in, his soft lilting accent completely unfamiliar, and yet somehow familiar at the same time.
"You've let yourself go, sweetheart," Klaus teased.
"Are you going to sit and gawk, or are you going to rescue the poor girl," The second man said, his voice growing closer as he joined Klaus.
It was Elijah, his way with words unmistakable, even in the attempt at an American accent he spoke with now.
"I was actually thinking about killing her, would it be easier?" Klaus replied, his grin widening, "What do you think brother, is she a lost cause?"
Elijah peered through the bars, his dark eyes taking you in. You wanted to hide, or scream, or cry. His face bringing back a thousand buried memories, all the reasons why you had tried so hard to forget him.
"I'd say she's quite beyond salvation," he said, "but you know I could never resist a damsel in distress, even one as ugly as this."
That hurt, even though you certainly deserved it. Many great fables are written about the tragic love affairs of humans, but nothing compared to the heartbreaks between vampires.
Klaus laughed at the pain in your eyes, the way they watered ever so slightly, despite how weak and dehydrated you were. But he reached out and grabbed the iron gate, tearing it off the hinges with a grunt.
"I think we're past pleasantries, don't you agree, love?" He asked, striding into the cell and lifting you up.
The moment his hands touched your skin, you knew it was real. That by some divine miracle you were rescued and it was by the worst possible people.
"You should really take a bath, it's unbecoming for a lady to smell like a sewer." Elijah commented, watching the way you were limp in Klaus' arms.
You choked out a half laugh, half sob, every small movement felt like sandpaper rubbing against your skin. You swallowed hard and it felt like a knife had been forced down your throat.
"Fuck you," you wheezed.
"There she is!" Klaus said, holding you bridal style, "We were wondering if you had actually died."
Elijah reached out and placed a hand on your head, smoothing out your hair and giving you a gentle smile. You leaned into the touch, the first kindness you had felt in so long.
Klaus carried you out of the cell, and into the room above. He sat down in an old wooden chair, the same one you had been tortured in countless times. Your breathing hitched and you tried to struggle, but he held you tight, pressing his face into your neck.
"Relax," he said, "I'm not going to kill you … yet."
The threat hung in the air, and Elijah rolled his eyes at his brothers' dramatics. You felt the tip of his tongue lick up your neck, and his fangs graze your skin, before pulling away.
"Any of them still kickin'?" He asked Elijah, who was peering around the room.
"One, she's alive. Barely," he replied, his gaze falling on a witch laying face down on the floor, her neck was at a weird angle, no doubt snapped by Elijah.
He dragged her to the middle of the room, her body limp, but you could hear the faint beating of her heart, her blood still pumping. She was still clinging to the last threads of existence. Her blood smelled divine, the sound of her heartbeat was music to your ears.
"Here's a deal," Klaus said, pulling your attention back to him, "I give you her blood, and you answer our questions. Sound fair?"
Your lips were chapped and your throat was dry, but you forced out an answer, "Yes, please."
You hadn't begged for anything the entire time the witches had imprisoned you. Not for freedom, not for mercy, not for blood, not even for your own life. But in that moment, all of your pride had been stripped away, and there was nothing left but desperation.
Elijah lifted the witch up, biting down on her wrist and offering it to you. The taste of fresh blood filled your mouth, and you moaned, gulping down as much as you could. But the relief didn't last long, as he pulled away.
"Enough," he said, his grip tight, "can't have you drinking too much."
You felt life returning to your limbs, your bones tingling as you were able to wiggle them, your skin turning from a gray pallor to its usual color. It wasn't much, but it was more than enough to take the edge off.
"Now, let's start with the obvious," Elijah said, "Why are you here?"
"On vacation," you replied sarcastically, your voice hoarse, but not as quiet as before.
Elijah didn't say anything, instead he gave you a cold stare, daring you to make another joke. You shrunk away, but not much. It had been so long since you had been with them, but the way they made you feel, was ingrained into your bones.
"The witches, what do they want from you? I will not ask you again," He asked, the anger behind his words making you nervous.
"They wanted you two," you said, "they knew we had...history."
"History?" Klaus said, chuckling, "that's a very bland word for what we had."
You bit your tongue. He wasn't wrong, but you weren't willing to admit that to them.
"They thought I could get to you, so they tortured me," you explained.
"And could you? Get to us?" Elijah asked, his eyes narrowed.
You didn't respond, instead you looked down. The truth was, you had been avoiding them for centuries and to do that, you always kept tabs on them. So yes, if you wanted to, you could have gotten to them, but that would have meant reopening old wounds, and the last thing you wanted was to feel that pain all over again.
"We could always compel the answer out of you," Elijah mused.
You shook your head. It wasn't that they couldn't, but that they didn't need to. You were already at their mercy, and had no desire to fight them.
"I... I kept your secrets, no matter how much they tortured me," You said, "I never told them anything."
"How noble," Klaus replied, rolling his eyes, "your loyalty is truly inspiring, sweetheart."
His grip tightened on your body, his fingers digging into your skin. It was starting to make you angry. Yes, they had saved you, but the way they spoke to you, the way they were acting, it was too much.
"Fuck off," you snapped, "I could have given them anything, and yet, here I am, starving and tortured. So maybe a little respect would be nice, you prick."
Elijah let out a short, sharp laugh, while Klaus glared at you. But after a moment he grinned and chuckled, the sound sending a shiver up your spine.
"You were always so bold," Klaus said, "you never were afraid of me."
"She's a fool then," Elijah replied.
"Well, what is life without a few fools, brother?" Klaus asked.
"Boring," you replied, earning a smirk from both of them.
Elijah leaned down, grabbing the witch by the hair and placing her head on your lap. She was so close to dying, you could hear her heartbeat getting weaker and weaker. You looked down at her, the smell of her blood filling the air, and licked your lips.
"Drink up now, you've earned it," he said, stroking the back of her head.
You sank your teeth into her neck, the taste of her blood filling your mouth, as you greedily sucked up as much as you could. Nothing tasted better than draining the life out of a witch.
When you finished, you tossed the body aside, licking your lips and wiping your mouth. You were finally able to relax, your stomach full, your skin returning to a healthy color. You stood up, steady and sure on your feet for the first time in months.
"Where do you think you're going?" Klaus asked, reaching out and grabbing your wrist.
"A hotel, I'm thinking luxury suite, room service, a month long spa treatment, the works," you replied, "thanks for the save, I'm off."
You tried to pull your arm away, but his grip tightened, yanking you towards him.
"Such hubris, little fox," he said, his voice cold and menacing, "you don't really think we're going to just let you go, do you?"
You struggled in his grasp, but it was no use. He was too strong, and you were still too weak. You looked to Elijah, a silent plea, but he just shrugged, an amused smile on his lips.
"What the hell do you mean?" You asked.
"Well, there is the fact that you owe us a favor, but also," he said, leaning forward, his mouth brushing your ear, "I still think your lying,"
And with that, he reached for your neck and with one swift move he snapped it. You didn't even have a chance to react, and as you fell to the ground, the world fading away.
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When you woke up, you were somewhere else, on a large, incredibly comfortable sofa, the smell of leather and wood in the air. The light was dim, and it took you a moment to get your bearings. You heard a crackling fire, the sounds of music playing from somewhere, and the voices of the Mikaelson's arguing.
"I don't believe she was lying," Elijah said.
"Really, I'm surprised at you brother," Klaus replied, "considering how she ended things with you,"
Elijah sighed and didn't respond. You couldn't see him, but you imagined him adjusting his suit, and the way his jaw twitched when he was annoyed.
"I'm not inclined to trust her either," Elijah said, "But I think holding her captive is pointless,"
"She's a risk," Klaus argued, "and she's not leaving till I'm sure she's not lying."
You sat up and glanced around, trying to see where they were. It was a large living room, the furniture was ornate and expensive, with antique looking paintings on the wall, and bookshelves lining every surface. There was a coffee table next to the sofa you were on, and your eyes landed on a fresh horror that was laying there.
You let out a blood curdling scream, one that echoed in the space and made Klaus and Elijah appear almost instantly. You were still staring, frozen in place, unable to look away.
A human head was sitting on the table, his skin pale and his eyes wide and lifeless. It was one of the witches that had tortured you, and it was sitting there, staring at you.
"Jesus Christ, is that necessary?" You snapped, pointing at the head.
Klaus grinned, looking down at the head, and shrugging, "I thought you would appreciate the gesture,"
"I don't!" You exclaimed.
"Perhaps you could have done something a little less barbaric," Elijah suggested.
"Oh come now brother, where's the fun in that," Klaus replied, and Elijah rolled his eyes.
"It's a peace offering," Klaus replied, walking over and lifting the head up, tossing it from one hand to the other, "do you like it?"
"No!" You yelled, covering your eyes and trying not to gag, "I want it gone, get rid of it,"
"Oh, come on little fox, don't be so uptight," He replied, his voice low and dangerous, "I remember when you used to enjoy this sort of thing,"
An awkward tension filled the room. Elijah cleared his throat and Klaus laughed.
"Too far?" He asked.
"Just a bit," Elijah replied.
"Sorry, my bad," he said, turning his attention back to you, "now, let's discuss how you're going to repay us."
"What, not even a hello, or how are you?" You asked, standing up.
Elijah gently pushed you back down onto the sofa. He sat down next to you, giving you a small smile, and placing a hand on your knee. You felt your heart skip a beat, and you cursed yourself for the reaction. You had been the one to ruin things with him, and yet, being near him again, it made you wish you hadn't.
"This happy reunion calls for wine!" Klaus called, he chucked the head somewhere out of sight and strided over to a mini bar, pulling out a bottle and glasses, "unfortunately I don't have anything fancy at this particular bar, but this is a decent 1990s vintage, which I think is passable,"
"I don't drink anything after the 1900s," Elijah replied, leaning back against the sofa.
Klaus scoffed, but didn't reply, instead he poured himself a glass and downed it in one gulp.
"Fine," he grumbled, "make me go to the cellar, like some sort of servant,"
"If the shoe fits," Elijah quipped.
You watched the exchange, trying to process everything that had happened. They were different now, their accents and mannerisms, not to mention their appearances. But the easy banter between them, and the way they were able to get under each other's skin, that hadn't changed one bit.
"Are you two ever not at each other's throats?" You asked, leaning back, "seriously, you are worse than an old married couple."
"Far worse," Klaus yelled, before disappearing down a hallway, off to retrieve the good wine.
"Don't mind him," Elijah said, turning to you, "he's never been very appreciative of fine cuisine."
"I know. He's a heathen," you replied, smiling.
Elijah didn't return the smile, his gaze fixed on you, a strange expression on his face. His eyes were dark and intense, and the longer he looked, the more uncomfortable you felt.
"You've changed," he said.
"So have you," you replied, "it's been centuries and I wasn't exactly eager to run into either of you again."
He didn't respond. The silence hung in the air, neither of you wanting to talk about the elephant in the room. What had happened, was painful, and neither of you had really moved on.
"Why did you do it?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You bit your lip. A million lies flashed through your mind. The truth was cruel, and you didn't want to admit it, but it was the only option.
"Because I was bored," you admitted, "and I didn't know any other way to handle it, so I turned it all off,"
"And found a far more vigorous lover in the process," Klaus said, suddenly appearing with an older bottle of wine.
He handed it to Elijah, who looked over the label and nodded. Klaus gave you a wink and sat down on the chair across from the two of you.
Elijah didn't speak, and you couldn't read his expression. He looked hurt, and his gaze turned away from you. Guilt was a feeling you spent a lot a time accepting back into your life, but to witness the consequences, that was far worse.
"Whoops, still a sore subject I see," Klaus teased.
"Niklaus, shut up," Elijah snapped.
Klaus threw his hands up in mock surrender, and didn't say anything, a satisfied smile on his face. He was just as much to blame as you, but clearly he had no remorse and was loving the awkwardness of the moment.
Elijah uncorked the wine and poured a glass for all three of you. The tension in the room was still palpable, and as much as you wanted to apologize, you knew that nothing would fix what you had done.
"To reunions, and bloody witches," Klaus said, raising his glass, "to past lovers and new enemies, to the future, whatever that may bring,"
He chuckled and took a long drink. You and Elijah didn't move, still looking away from each other.
"Oh, come on, I'm not doing this whole thing alone," Klaus said, glaring at the two of you, "let's play a game,"
"You know, I'm not really in the mood for a game," you said, crossing your arms.
"Well, lucky for you, I'm not asking," Klaus replied, his voice dripping with false kindness, "now, the rules are simple, tell the truth or take a drink,"
"We are not children," Elijah protested, "we don't need games to imbibe,"
"Oh, I beg to differ," Klaus said, "so, what shall we ask first? Hmmm... oh, how about, why were you in New Orleans?"
You stared at him, unsure if you should just answer, or try to get out of the game. He was looking at you, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set. You could feel his anger, and the last thing you wanted was to piss him off.
"I needed an answer to a question," you replied, "it's… important to me,"
Klaus and Elijah exchanged a glance, both of them curious about what you meant.
"How intriguing," Klaus said, leaning back, "and what was this question?"
"Doesn't work that way," you replied, a smile creeping onto your face, "it's your turn,"
"Clever girl," Klaus replied, grinning.
"My turn," Elijah said, turning to Klaus, "where did you find this bottle,"
"Why does that matter?" Klaus replied, annoyed.
"I don't remember seeing that year in the cellar," Elijah replied, taking a sip.
"Perhaps it was from your secret stash…" Klaus asked, smirking, "the one I'm not supposed to know about?"
Elijah glared at him, and you stifled a laugh. Their arguments were always funny, and this was no exception.
"Well, I was feeling sentimental, so I grabbed one of the better years," Klaus explained, "what's the harm in a little nostalgia,"
Elijah didn't say anything, his gaze turning back to the glass, swirling the wine around.
"My turn," you said, "how did you find me?"
"Simple," Klaus said, "we have spies everywhere, and witches are the most gossiping creatures on the planet. When I heard they were torturing a lovely little vampire that matched your description, well… we just had to see for ourselves,"
You were shocked, that they had gone out of their way to find you. You hadn't expected them to care, or even remember you, and to know they had saved you just because they could, it was a strange feeling.
"But, why bother saving me?" You asked, genuinely curious, "you don't owe me anything, not after how I left things,”
They both fell silent, exchanging a glance that seemed to have an entire conversation within it. After a moment, Elijah spoke.
"It's always better to know where our enemies stand," he said, "you are a useful asset, and a potential enemy,"
"And," Klaus added, "we love killing witches who get too big for their boots,"
Elijah glared at him and then sighed, "That too,"
You didn't say anything, their reasoning making perfect sense. You had a history with the two of them, but that didn't mean you were friends.
Elijah's arm stretched behind you, casually resting on the back of the couch. His fingers brushed your shoulder and you felt your breath catch. His hand was warm and you could feel his thumb stroke your shoulder.
"What did the witches ask you?" he said, his voice soft and low. “Tell us the whole truth,”
His hand moved subtly to the back of your neck, a quiet threat, one that didn't require words. You understood the unspoken message and knew that if you didn't give him an answer he was happy with, then you would end up the same way as the head that was somewhere in the house.
"They asked about your weaknesses, how to kill you," you admitted, "I told them to go fuck themselves and in return they upped to torture severely,”
Klaus snorted, clearly impressed. He poured himself another glass, while Elijah gave you a satisfied nod.
"Why the loyalty? We haven't spoken in centuries," Elijah asked, his fingers tracing the curve of your neck, "I seem to remember you hating us both,"
You picked up your glass and took a long drink, not saying anything.
"Not a fan of the question?" He asked.
"It's not loyalty, but self preservation," you said, shrugging, "the wrath of witches is one thing, but you two? That's a death wish,"
Klaus laughed and held up his glass, "well played, sweetheart,"
Elijah didn't remove his hand, his fingers lightly caressing the nape of your neck, his gaze never wavering from yours.
"My turn," you said, trying not to squirm under his touch, "why not kill me? You are clearly afraid I hold secrets you rather I didn't,"
"Call it … Nostalgia," Klaus said, a wicked grin on his face, "I do so love to reminisce, and if I am being honest, you are one of the more fun memories,"
"Ah yes, your one weakness, sentimental attachment to those you've slept with," you quipped, taking another drink, the alcohol warming your throat.
"I guess it's the one thread of our humanity we've never been able to shake," Klaus admitted.
You raised your glass and downed the rest of it, setting the glass down with a small clink. Elijah refilled it, his hand now resting on your lower back. You tried to ignore it, but every touch made you more aware of him, and less able to concentrate.
"Let's make a deal," Klaus said, his expression serious, "we will let you go, if you answer why you are in New Orleans,"
You bit your lip, wondering if they would even believe you.
"I'm here because..." you paused, looking down at the ground, "I heard a witch here can help with... Fertility,"
They both froze, a stunned look on their faces.
"A baby?" Elijah asked, his eyes wide.
"Is that what you've been chasing all these centuries?" Klaus asked, clearly surprised.
You looked up at both of them, two of the oldest beings to walk this earth. Them, of all people, you hoped would understand your reasons.
"I've experienced everything I've ever wanted too in my long life," you began, your hands twisting in your lap, "climbed the tallest mountains, swam in the deepest oceans, drank with Kings of long forgotten empires, fucked and fed from the greatest artists, poets, warriors and philosophers the world has ever known... but now I wish for only one thing,"
You stopped, swallowing a lump in your throat, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall.
"To be a mother," you whispered, "to impart my wisdom on someone, and love them more than anything. To show them the beauty of the world and watch them grow up, have children of their own, and carry on a legacy. It's the one thing I haven't done, and the one thing I want most in the world,"
You thought that Klaus would laugh, perhaps even mock you, but he didn't, instead his expression was sympathetic, and Elijah's was one of understanding.
"You are not the wild, reckless creature that we used to know," Klaus said, "you have changed,"
"And so have you," you replied.
The three of you sat in silence for a few minutes, letting the weight of the conversation settle.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Elijah asked, his arm now firmly around your waist.
"All I found was a chains and a cell," you replied, "I was a fool, blinded by hope. All that awaited me was pain,"
Klaus poured you another drink, they couldn't help you, but at least they could offer you a distraction.
The night quickly dissolved into a drunken revelry. The three of you laughing and drinking, the old days a source of amusement. Your belly was full of blood and wine, and the tension between the three of you had dissipated.
"Now that I have determined you aren't a threat, it's time to get down to the real questions," Klaus said, "who is the better lover? Me or my dear brother,"
"Seriously?" You exclaimed, rolling your eyes.
"What?" He replied, "I'm just curious, I promise I won't get jealous,"
"I'm not answering that," you said.
"Yes, well, I would rather not hear the answer," Elijah interjected.
"You are no fun," Klaus replied, and then leaned forward, his gaze intense, "I'm going to assume it's me,"
"Interesting assumption," you said, raising an eyebrow, "but if we're talking about skills, there is a clear winner,"
Elijah grinned, and Klaus shot you an offended look. You laughed and finished the rest of the wine, setting the glass on the table.
"And I've always preferred passion over... Enthusiasm," you said, a hint of teasing in your voice.
Elijah didn't look up from his drink, his face neutral, but you could tell he was smiling. Klaus huffed, and crossed his arms.
"I would be delighted to remind you," Klaus said, leaning forward and placing a hand on your thigh, "just say the word, and we can retire to a more comfortable location."
You grabbed his wrist and twisted, until you felt his bones shatter. He cried out in pain, then quickly recovered, the bones snapping back into place.
"That's not how this works," you replied, smiling sweetly.
He stared at you, his expression changing from shock to a pleased smile.
"Still the same fire, I see," he replied, "a good reminder of the past,"
"If I were to sleep with either of you again, it would be on my terms, certainly not when I'm held captive," you snapped.
"Who said anything about holding you captive," Klaus replied, "if we were, you would still be shackled to the wall,"
"Some might enjoy that sort of thing," Elijah remarked, his cheeks were a bit rosy from drink and you enjoyed how it made him seem less cold.
"Have you done that sort of thing Elijah?" You teased, "I never would have taken you for a deviant,"
He shrugged, a sly smile on his face, "I don't divulge such things,"
"Oh, please, you can tell us," Klaus said, "unless you haven't, and are simply trying to pretend like you have,"
"Or perhaps he has and is ashamed of the things he's done," you added, laughing.
Elijah glared at the two of you, the playful glint in his eyes giving him away. He simply stood up and held out his hand to you, the confidence in his stance and the way he looked at you sent a jolt of heat through your body.
"The only way to know for sure, is to experience it for yourself," he said, his tone seductive, "I'll leave the choice up to you,"
You stared at him, a sudden desire coursing through your veins. This was a terrible idea, but at the same time, a chance to have a night of freedom and pleasure after months of torture was an offer you couldn't resist.
"If I say no, am I free to go?" You challenged, meeting his gaze.
"You were never a prisoner," he replied, "the only person keeping you here is yourself,"
He was right. They hadn't chained you, or compelled you, and now that the threat of danger was gone, there was nothing stopping you from walking out the door. But that was not what you wanted, and the look in his eyes was too enticing.
"Alright, but I need a shower first, I still smell of dungeon and witch piss," you said, standing up and taking his hand, "and you better not disappoint,"
He smiled, his eyes dark with desire, and pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing into yours. The kiss was intense, and you clung to his shoulders, melting into his embrace.
Klaus scoffed, he loathed being left out.
"Really?" he grumbled, pouring himself another glass. "Can you keep the noise to a minimum, I would prefer to have a little sleep tonight,"
You let out a soft giggle, "oh, don't pout, you can come too,"
Klaus raised an eyebrow, looking to his brother for an answer. Elijah nodded, a smirk on his face.
"If she insists," Elijah said, his voice smooth, "you know I've never been good at denying her,"
Klaus immediately got to his feet, throwing his glass of wine into the fireplace. The flames leapt up, the red embers glowing, illuminating the room in a fiery light. He walked over and wrapped an arm around your waist, his lips brushing your ear, his hand cupping your ass.
"Do you have any idea how many times I've fantasized about having you in bed again?" He whispered, his breath hot against your neck.
You smiled and pushed him away, enjoying his expression of surprise.
"Well, then, why are we still standing here," you said, sauntering out of the room, "the night won't last forever,"
Elijah caught up with you in the hallway, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you up against the wall. He kissed you, his hands sliding down to your thighs and lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and ran your fingers through his hair, deepening the kiss.
He carried you all the way to his bedroom, never once breaking the kiss. The room was dark, and the bed was large and covered in dark silk sheets. He pointed to his bathroom, and you pulled your tattered clothes off, leaving them on the floor.
You went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, waiting for the water to get warm. You felt his arms wrap around you and turned around, letting him press you up against the tile. He kissed you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of bare skin, his touch igniting a fire within you.
Klaus quickly joined you, he had undressed in the other room, and stood naked in the doorway. You smiled at him, enjoying the way his muscles flexed as he moved.
Elijah pulled away from you to undress and you watched as his shirt was unbuttoned and fell to the ground. His pants followed, and your eyes roamed his body, admiring his muscular frame. The two of them were opposites in many ways, but they both had a beauty to them, and right now you could hardly choose which one you wanted more.
You took both their hands and pulled them under the steamy water, running your hands across their skin. Their bodies were warm and firm, their skin soft under your fingertips. You kissed Elijah, while Klaus kissed and licked your breasts, his hands wandering between your legs.
You could feel his fingers brush against your wet core, his thumb pressing against your clit. He slowly circled the sensitive nub, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Your hands wandered down to Elijah's cock, gently stroking the hard length.
Elijah kissed you, his lips trailing down your neck, his hand gently caressing your breasts. You moaned, enjoying the feeling of their hands on your body.
Their touch was overwhelming, hands and mouths everywhere, and it was only when the water started to turn cold that you all stepped out, laughing and breathless.
Elijah pulled you on to his bed, and you fell on to his chest. His lips found yours and you lost yourself in his kiss. You felt the bed dip and Klaus pressed his lips against your shoulder, his hands running along your thighs. He kissed his way down your spine, his hands pushing your ass up in the air.
His lips trailed along the curve of your lower back, his fingers tracing the line of your hip. He placed a soft kiss on your inner thigh and you moaned, anticipation coiling in your stomach.
You felt his tongue flick across your pussy and you gasped, arching your back. He chuckled and began licking and sucking, his tongue expertly teasing your clit.
Elijah's hands cupped your face and you turned your attention back to him. His eyes were blown wide with lust, his gaze fixed on yours. You kissed him, the taste of the wine still lingering on his lips. His cock was hard against your stomach and you could feel his desire pulsing through his veins.
Your hand trailed down his chest, and you wrapped your fingers around his cock, slowly stroking the thick shaft. His eyebrows arched in pleasure, and you could feel his muscles tighten.
You kissed your way down his chest until you were level with his cock. You ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft, enjoying the sound of his low moans. A gentle hum left your throat and you felt him shudder.
You took him in your mouth, gently sucking and swirling your tongue. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair. His grip tightened and you increased your pace, taking his length deeper.
Klaus moved away for a moment, and you could see Elijah observing whatever he was doing, a dark smile spreading across his face. You felt the bed dip as Klaus returned, and he grabbed your wrists, pinning them behind your back.
A moment later, the soft leather of a belt wrapped around them, and he secured the belt, tight enough that you couldn't move, but not too tight that it hurt.
Elijah's eyes met yours, and a wicked smile played across his lips. "Do you enjoy being tied up? Being helpless and at our mercy?" He asked, his voice a deep growl.
You nodded eagerly, taking him further into your mouth. His eyes darkened, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair, his hips thrusting forward. You could feel him hit the back of your throat and gagged, your eyes watering.
Klaus kissed your lower back, then positioned himself at your entrance. You gasped as he slowly slid inside, the stretch sending waves of pleasure through your body. He held still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, then slowly began to move.
You moaned, the sensation of being filled by both of them overwhelming. They began to move in a steady rhythm, Klaus thrusting into you while Elijah fucked your mouth. You were helpless, pinned between them, unable to do anything but submit.
The sound of their pleasure sent a shiver of delight through you, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to release. Elijah's breathing became ragged, and his grip on your hair tightened. You knew he was close, so you focused on pleasuring him, moving all the way down and swallowing.
He let out a low groan and came, his hot release spilling into your mouth. You swallowed every drop, then pulled away, gasping for air. You smiled up at him, his expression one of bliss.
Klaus continued to thrust into you, his pace increasing. He leaned forward and bit into your shoulder, his fangs sinking deep. You cried out in pain and pleasure, your body shuddering. His bloodlust combined with his own pleasure, the feeling overwhelming, but just as you were about to cum, he stopped.
You let out a whine, and he chuckled, his hands squeezing your ass.
"I don't think I'm quite ready for this to end," he murmured, pulling out.
Elijah's hands moved down to your arms, pulling you forward and guiding you onto his lap. You straddled him, your hands still bound behind your back, and his cock brushed against your wet core.
"Do you remember how you used to love riding me?" He whispered, his lips brushing against yours.
You nodded, eager for him to fill you. He grinned and lifted your hips, slowly lowering you onto his cock. He gripped your hips and began to move you up and down. You moaned, resting your head on his shoulder and grinding your hips.
Klaus positioned himself behind you, and you felt his hand trail down your back. His fingers traced the line of your ass, and then he spread your cheeks, exposing your other hole.
"You are such a pretty little thing," he murmured, pressing a finger against your ass, "all tied up and at our mercy,"
He slid a finger inside, the tight ring of muscle giving way. You moaned, the feeling of being filled by both of them overwhelming.
Klaus coated his cock with a lubricant and pressed it against your ass. Elijah held you still, his lips claiming yours in a heated kiss. You could feel the tip of Klaus' cock pushing into your ass and whimpered, the stretch bordering on painful.
Klaus slowly sank into you, letting out a low groan. He began to thrust, his movements slow and deep. The feeling of both of them inside you was almost too much, and you moaned, your body trembling.
"Are you enjoying this, love?" Klaus asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"Yes," you whimpered, unable to form a coherent sentence.
Elijah kissed along your jaw, his fingers digging into your hips, guiding your movements, rocking you back and forth on their cocks.
You felt the heat of their bodies pressed against yours, and their hands were everywhere, stroking, caressing, and teasing. The smell of their sweat and desire was intoxicating, and you were lost in the pleasure, your mind spinning.
Klaus pulled on your wrists, his mouth colliding with the side of your neck. You cried out as he bit into you, his fangs piercing your skin. Elijah kissed the other side, mirroring his brother's bite.
The combination of the pleasure and pain was too much, and you came, your orgasm crashing through your body. You writhed in their arms, your body trembling, waves of ecstasy washing over you.
They kept you pinned between them, bouncing you up and down, their movements rough and animalistic. The belt came loose, and your hands came free.
You wrapped your arms around Elijah's neck as another orgasm hit, this one even more intense than the last. He smiled at the look of pure bliss on your face and kissed you, his hands tangled in your hair.
Klaus groaned, pressing himself deep as he came, then he slowly pulled out, kissing the nape of your neck.
Elijah soon followed, his eyes meeting yours as he shuddered, spilling into you. You collapsed against him, exhausted and sated. He gently stroked your hair, his gaze soft and loving.
"I forgot how good you are at that," you mumbled, your eyes drifting closed.
He chuckled, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin. You snuggled against his chest, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.
Klaus laid down next to the two of you, his eyes bright, and a smile on his face. "What about me? Any thoughts?" He asked, and you giggled, the alcohol still coursing through your system.
"You were pretty good, too," you replied, reaching out and patting his arm.
He grinned, his hand coming to rest on the top of your thigh. "I don't know why we didn't do this earlier, it would have saved us all a lot of trouble," he said.
Elijah nodded, a small smirk on his lips, "you may be right,"
"I'm sorry for leaving you the way I did," you said softly, running your hands through Elijah's hair, "and thank you for coming to save me,"
He nodded, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, then helped you off his lap, and onto the bed, covering the three of you with a silk sheet.
"Do you mind if I stay here a while? It's been so long since I've had a good night's sleep," you mumbled, your fingers curling into Elijah's chest, holding him tight.
He didn't reply, just pulled you closer, his hand stroking your back, lulling you to sleep.
"We've got all the time in the world, love," Klaus said softly, his voice barely a whisper, "we'll make sure no more nasty witches get their hands on you,"
It had been so long since you had felt so content, you could feel the warmth of their skin, smell their cologne, hear the beat of their hearts. You could taste the blood and whiskey in the air, and it felt right, like you had come home.
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scribblesofagoonerr · 22 hours
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under pressure | katie mccabe x teen reader x caitlin foord
thank you to the anon that requested this one. it's been fun to write it!
i think i'm gonna plan a part 2 of this maybe, depending on what reaction i get from this one...
pairings: katie mccabe x teen reader x caitlin foord
summary: there's a lot of pressure that comes with being the next big thing in women's football sometimes
warning: talks of a eating disorder and angst
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It sometimes felt like you had the world at your feet. You were well aware of the word on the street that you were the next big thing in women’s football. The headlines were quick to label you as a future star, comparing you to legends like Marta or Sam Kerr, but of course being the youngest to sign a professional contract sometimes came with a certain level of expectations, and that was something that nobody could really prepare you for the weight that would follow.
Living alongside Katie McCabe and Caitlin Foord felt like a dream in itself like it would for any football-crazy teenager and you were no different, you moved in with them after your own parents couldn’t travel to England with you. 
Caitlin and Katie were quick to become more than just teammates or mentors, they became family.
It should’ve been perfect– It mostly was.
At least until the pressure started to become too much for you, the media scrutinised everything about you: your every move, every game, every slip-up. There felt like there was never any room for mistakes and it started to take its toll on you.
The expectations suffocated you and you started to believe the medias’ words, not only the media but the pressure of fans as well, you felt like you were weighed down by an anker of harsh criticism.
Maybe if you were smaller– lighter, you could be faster. You could be better.
It only started small, barely noticeable in fact, just skipping meals and convincing yourself that you were just too busy. The comments on how lean you looked pushed you further, but it didn’t take long for the innocent excuses to morph into something darker.
The hunger pains were a lot easier to bear than the suffocating pressure, but you should have realised that it would be harder to hide, and before long, it wasn’t just you who had noticed the toll it was taking on you.
“You seem a lot quieter today kid,” Caitlin was the first to pick up on your bitter mood as you made your way out of the London Colney and headed in the direction of where Katie had parked her car earlier on when you all arrived for training, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, I’m all good,” You gave her a weak smile and kept your shoulders slouched as you opened the car door to climb in.
Are you sure, kiddo?” Katie noted the exhausted look on your face as she opened the car door and climbed in, “Cait’s right, you don’t seem like yourself today.”
“I’m fine Katie,” You all but growled in response and slumped down in the backseat of the car, “I’ve already told you I’m fine, so just leave it, will you?” You hadn’t meant to be rude but you really do hate all the persistent questions being fired at you.
You hated being the centre of attention, despite what the media said about you.
It didn’t take long for you to begin feeling the weight of guilt, “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap like that.”
“It’s okay kiddo,” Katie replied, glancing in the rearview mirror and giving you a reassuring smile, “How about when we get home, we order pizza. My treat?” She offered.
Your smile faltered at the mention of food. Your stomach was hurting from the hunger, but couldn’t give in to the temptations, “Um, it’s okay, I don’t really fancy pizza, thanks,” You respond, biting your bottom lip.
You missed Katie and Caitlin sharing a glance with each other, catching the hesitation in your voice. It was subtle, but they both knew you well enough to notice.
At one point, you used to jump at the chance for pizza nights– especially after a long day of training and now you barely even showed an ounce of interest.
“Okay,” Katie simply nodded and started the ignition of her car up.
The drive back home was quiet, too quiet. The hum of the engine mixed in with the quiet volume of noise in the car filled the silence, but your thoughts were still loud. You couldn’t help but stare out the window, feeling the familiar tightening in your chest.
You hated the fact that they were starting to notice more, it was easier when they didn’t and you could still pretend that things were fine, even if they definitely were not.
You couldn’t ignore the way that your hands trembled slightly from exhaustion or the pounding in your head that had become all too familiar lately.
You just had to pretend for a little while longer.
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Back at the house, you immediately make a beeline for your bedroom while muttering something about needing a shower. As soon as you closed the door, you leaned against it and took a deep breath. 
The initial feeling of hunger gnawed at you but you try to shove it aside, heading into the bathroom to splash cold water on your face all while ignoring the mirror, knowing you wouldn’t like what you saw.
“Hey kid! We’re gonna watch a film, do you want to come and join us?” Caitlin shouted upstairs to get your attention and you jolted slightly in shock.
“Uh, yeah, I’m coming!” You respond, turning the tap off and dabbing your face with a towel before making your way back into your bedroom, you shove a cosy hoodie on and shove your hair up in a messy bun before you head back downstairs to join the two of them.
“Here she is,” Katie exclaimed, gesturing for you to join them in the living room, “Where just deciding what film to watch, do you have anything you’d like to watch?” She questioned.
“Um, I don’t mind. I’m fine with anything,” You told her, plopping down on the sofa beside them as you listened to the two of them argue about what to watch.
Usually it was pretty comical when that happened, but you didn’t have it in you to laugh this time round.
The tension in the room was thick, and you knew it was only a matter of time before they brought it up again.
After what felt like an eternity, Caitlin broke the silence, “Y/N, we’re worried about you.”
Your stomach dropped and you should have known this was coming, but it still felt like a punch in the gut.
“You’re not eating, you’re not sleeping,” Katie leaned forward, her expression soft but serious, “You don’t seem like yourself, and we know that the pressure is a lot, but you know that you don’t need to carry it all by yourself.”
“I’m fine,” You shook your head, feeling the familiar panic rise in your chest, “I just have a lot going on right now.”
“We get it kid, but starving yourself isn’t the way to handle things,” Caitlins’ tone of voice was gentle but still firm. “There’s better ways to cope.”
You couldn’t help the tears that pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away and refused to let them fall, “I’m not starving myself,” You whispered, trying to convince yourself more than them, “I just… I need to be better. I’m not good enough.”
“Y/N, you’re more than good enough,” Katie’s heart broke at your words as she scooted closer and placed her hand on your knee, “You’re incredible, and not just because of football but because of who you are, okay. You can’t do this to yourself, you can’t push yourself to the point where you’re hurting, kiddo.”
Your resolve was crumbing, you suddenly felt the weight of everything that you’d been holding in starting to break down, “I just… I don’t want to let anyone down,” You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Hey, come here,” Caitlin reached over and pulled you into a tight hug, “You’re not letting anyone down, kid. We’re so proud of you– so proud. We just need you to take better care of yourself, and we’re not just talking about football here either. We care about you.”
Burying your face in her shoulder, the tears finally spilled, “I’m scared,” You choked out, “I… I don’t know how to stop.”
Katie soon joined the hug, her arms wrapping around both you and Caitlin, “You don’t have to do it alone,” She paused, “We’re here, we’ll help you, but you need to let us in.”
It felt like for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. To let them see just how scared and overwhelmed you really were, with all the added pressure of things.
It now made you realise that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to face it all on your own after all.
You could let them in.
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© scribblesofagoonerr
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Dark Cherry [4] | Aemond Targaryen
Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader
Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.
Word Count: 5.5k
Warnings: MDNI 18+!! canon divergence!!! I fucked the timeline and nigly bits bc this was an impulse fic ok soooo it was mostly unplanned, almost smut, angst, let the grovelling happen babyyy, unedited, mention of alys x aemond but not in a good way :((, infidelity, talk of sex, guilt, mentions of Aegon x reader, hmmm I ramble, little vulnerable Aemond, bad language, let me know if I've missed anything!
Author's note: y'all I was never done with that man like there's no easy out for him :llll. Anyways I wrote most of this instead of studying which I needed to do. Perhaps I'll have my hand at another idea I'm cooking before part 5 but I'm alsoooo unsure about how keen we are to keep this one going - like is it getting too much??? either way, I enjoy writing this. and idk how to shut up, clearly, because I love that internal mind talk shit. Drop your thoughts in my inbox or PM me because I love to yap!!! xoxo, kisses!!! <3
Masterlist
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He was a fool. A spoiled, arrogant and entitled fool. You often thought about whether Aemond actually recognised the effect of his actions on anyone else. It was always ‘I did it for us’ or ‘I did it because I had to do it’.
So after your confrontation the day before, it had surprised you that Aemond had truly believed he was forgiven. Maybe it shouldn’t have. You had, after all, sat beside him and laughed with him. Shared a moment as if things were better. But it was nothing more than a lighthearted acknowledgement that whatever game was being played was entirely ridiculous yet you could feel how something had changed. There was a newfound intensity between the two of you and Aemond had clearly understood that he had made a mistake
But that wouldn't be enough for forgiveness. Things would never really be the same. You will never forget. The nameless woman had made a home in your unconscious mind and everything would remind you of the woman your husband had chosen to take to bed over you. She was beautiful, she was experienced and free of burden. Based on that alone a part of you could see why she could have been a better choice–a part of you that ached and pained ceaselessly. 
And you weren’t sure you could carry on as if Aemond hadn’t thrown your entire world into the pits of ruin. Because that is exactly what he may as well have done. All you had was your marriage to him–a fact that was as painful as it was true. If it all fell apart because of him only you would suffer from it. 
Your name, your family’s name. A Lady born to a house of remarkably lowly nobility with little more than your marriage to the prince. A charity case marriage to tell the realm’s people that the Crown was not so prejudiced as to be above uniting with the likes of your house. That the Lannisters and Baratheons were important but they were not everything. A fabrication only made necessary to cover up the fact that it was a lie–the Targaryens (and even the Hightowers as you had come to realise) really did believe they were of better blood. 
A failure to fulfil your duty to the Targaryen crown as Prince Aemond’s wife would destroy your family name. And you would have no prospect of happiness after it. What else did you have aside from this?
Aemond would never understand that. Because not only was he a man but he was a prince. A privilege, a safety and a security he had inherited through birth. 
Aside from the pressures of society, he had hurt you. Badly. 
Despite your own confliction about it, you did have love for Aemond–how could you not? Love came from many things and while yours may have come from your dependance on his word, on the duty he performed to be your protector as he was to the Crown and its subjects, on his polite affections as limited as they were, it still found its way into your heart. Perhaps it was foolish to allow it entry into your existence when you had already known that there was no love to come from Aemond. 
It didn’t change anything. Betrayed your trust, taken you for granted and destroyed the sanctity of a husband’s loyalty as if he were as dishonourable as any other Lord. 
You would never say it out loud but it had broken your heart. And heartache is a consuming, suffocating and painful thing to feel. A constant lump in your throat, something always weighing your chest down, a disastrous, aching discomfort in your belly. Tears had stained your pillow at night and dried by the morning, the fabric of the linen acquiring the same unphased facade that you would wear as you plastered on a mask of ignorance so that you could continue to live through your day. 
All because you had wanted him. Aemond, who was doomed to disappoint and destroy merely because that is all that princes do. 
For him to have mistaken your truce–the end to the back and forth game that had been wreaking havoc in its wake-as forgiveness was infuriating. He had no idea. 
Well, maybe he did. Now that he had seen you with another just as you had seen him. And you recognised your own experience in the moment he had realised what was happening. 
Aemond’s call to breakfast made you want to laugh. But you had turned him down for afternoon tea just the day before only to be found swallowing his brother’s seed. You winced at the shamefulness of your thought, muttering a quick prayer for the sake of your piety whether it was genuine or not. 
He was seated lazily in the chair he favoured, an array of food spread across the table. There was a book in his hand. The same one he had taken from you the last time you had shared your morning meal together. Aemond had a smirk playing on his lips. 
You cleared your throat, curtsying before sitting down at the other end of the table to him and with as much distance between you as you could muster. “Good morrow, my Prince,”
“Formalities, I see,” He looked at you through his lashes. It was odd seeing him so relaxed, the tension that was always in his shoulders had been lost and there was a playful glint to his eye. You wanted to smack it out. “I believed we were past titles and distance for the sake of propriety, my sweet. As well as rigid greetings.”
All you responded with was a stare. 
Dropping the book to his side, Aemond sighed and leaned forward, pouring tea into a cup. He stood, taking a couple steps forward to hand it to you. “We have fixed-”
“We have fixed nothing.”
“I am trying to turn a new leaf,” he commanded. You took the cup and saucer from his hand, the warm waft of vanilla and rose giving you a slight reprieve from the threat that rolled off his tongue. “If you do not recall, dear wife, I as well have every reason to resent you. The image of you sucking on my useless brother’s cock is not one I can easily bare. Yet I have chosen to let it be. I could have easily decided otherwise.”
“That would make you a hypocrite.” You glanced at him over the rim of your teacup. 
“It does not matter much if I am a hypocrite, does it?” Aemond sat, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He wasn’t bothered with the food in front of him, focused solely on you. “I hardly see how that would change anything.”
You squirmed under the intensity of his stare, picking up a cherry from the bowl of fruits and rolling the stem between your fingers. “It matters to me. Certainly, it matters for your reputation among the smallfolk. Nobody cares for a selfish prince, my dear.”
Aemond hummed, smirking at the venom you spat at him. You noticed the coin that he rolled between his fingers, nimble and thoughtless as if it were like breathing. Not so much a nervous habit but a thoughtful one. 
He couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t enjoy your confidence. It was refreshing. But there was a dip in his gut at the thought that there was no hope for the two of you. Aemond, ever logical, knew he had no one else to blame but himself with his lack of foresight and failure to see beyond the now and here. 
Because Aemond had not even considered how things would go on should you not forgive him. He had assumed that you would if not merely on the basis that there was little lost from a relationship that hardly existed in the first place. You had love for him and he was so convinced that such a thing would be impossible that he didn’t consider that it would cause you heartache beyond slighted offence and jealousy. 
A violet eye lingered on the cherry that remained between your fingers. Aemond was good at putting on an act. He thought for a moment that he would rather take lashes to his back than have you know that he had no idea how to love someone properly. A part of him was persuaded that he was incapable of being a good lover. The lashes seemed like a blissful gift compared to the self-loathing that simmered in his belly at the probability that he had ruined any chance your marriage had of recovery.  
It crossed his mind that it was his ignorance towards you right from the beginning that had damned your relationship. 
Either way, it did not help that you had turned to his brother for intimacy. Aemond felt his blood scorch whenever that invaded his mind. He wanted to crumble the walls of this fortress when he wondered if Aegon had enjoyed your womanhood. Jealousy did motivate him well, he realised, and Aemond had the murderous urge to feed Aegon to Vhagar. 
Nonetheless, he feigned amusement. “It seems as if you care for one.”
You ate the cherry. It was sweet and rich. All you replied with was an upturn of your chin as you gracefully held a small embroidered towel to your lips.
“So I am not forgiven?” Aemond had to break the silence before it cut him open. “Are we not even?”
Narrowing your eyes at him, you held back a surprised laugh. “You never apologised. Not that it would make any difference.”
“That does not answer my question.”
“Of course you are not forgiven,” you sighed. The tea cup hit the table with a clang. Your disdain for his actions and his ignorance gave you an unfettered confidence around him which you weren’t accustomed to. It made it very difficult to control yourself. “And no, we are not even, my Prince. And since you have brought it to my attention, I am of half a mind to find Aegon and offer him a meal between my thighs. You see, I have often wondered how it would feel and I expect that our King would be happy to indulge my… curiosities.”
Aemond sneered, a silent one that was more visible in his intake of a breath, the curl of his lips and the hardening of his eye. Bullseye. 
It took him less than a couple seconds to be on his knees in front of where you sat, a strong hand tightly gripping each side of your thighs over the thick fabrics of your dress. He had shoved the table aside, unphased as tea spilled and fruits and cheeses toppled to the floor. Something in the look of bewilderment on your face had Aemond ready to both grin at your clueless innocence and frown at your shock.
Aemond didn’t let himself dwell on the fact that you had given up on expecting such pleasures from him. He was your husband; nothing about what he was clearly intending on doing to you should surprise you. Cursing himself to perdition would not be enough for how he has failed you. 
“I feel obliged to remind you that we had agreed,” he grazed his nose across your knees, looking up at you through his eyelashes, jaw clenched tight as he all but growled his words. “That there will be no more of this foolishness. Not from you and not from me.”
It was an onslaught of different things that had rendered you still and silent. The way Aemond looked at you like you were the only satiating force for his eternal hunger, the wordless mixture of desire and anger in how his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, the desperation in his voice, strained by the fear that you would. Or was it the overwhelming feeling that Aemond was finally taking some accountability and that maybe he recognised not what his actions were but the meaning that they carried?
For a moment Aemond just looked at you, conflicted and fragmented and unguarded. The sight of him like this reminded you of a vulnerable child. But it didn’t last long before the menacing, cautionary glint was back in his eye, his posture becoming rigid as shuffled the fabrics of your skirts. 
A new kind of anxiety overcame you. Not like the insignificant nervousness you had felt that night when you had wandered into his chambers or used his leg to make yourself peak and not like the clueless apprehension with Aegon. It formed a ball in your chest and made it hard to breathe. 
There was no chance he would ever admit it but you could see Aemond’s vulnerability and desperation within the hardened facade he had perfected. He wanted nothing more than to seem strong and powerful at all times, worthy of acclaim and reverence. But here he was, willing to stay on his knees and worship you forever, all under the pretence of rageful infatuation. 
It was too hot. Even with the cool of the shadows cast by the dark net curtains that only let in enough daylight to see clearly and not enough to cause Aemond irritation from sensitivity in his eye, it was so warm you worried you would have to rip the sleeves off of your dress.
You were snapped out of your thoughts when Aemond let out a soft, dark groan, running his fingers across the expanse of your legs over your stockings, your skirts already bunched at your hips. Skin burning at his touch, you couldn’t help the way you whined and squeezed your thighs together, squirming under the intensity of his gaze. 
His voice was heavy with the burden of lust and regret. “I will be better. In all the ways that I have failed you and more. Your forgiveness, I realise, is not as easily granted as I presumed but I will show you that I am worthy of it.” 
There was a moment of weakness in your mind before you caught yourself. You didn’t quite believe him. It had clearly been too easy for him to give you empty promises and there was no reason why things would be different now. 
It was odd. Seeing Aemond weak like this. 
What would it mean if you let him continue? It was clearly different this time. You couldn’t put it into words exactly but there was a rawness, a blitz of different emotions that set things ablaze and made you want to both weep and mewl for him. 
You couldn’t spare a thought about why it was different. Aemond was right there, a weaponised Prince on his knees for you, a lowly Lady with nothing more to offer him than yourself. Since when did you hold all this power over him? 
That night in his bedchambers and last night when you had shared a laugh despite everything that had unfolded felt detached in a way. When you had allowed yourself release over his leg it was simply that. A way to ease the tension he had put in your body and a way to leave him wanting.
Aemond’s eye swam with a tenderness you had not seen from him. He continued to look up at you waiting to gauge your response. It was a slight nod of your head which had his hands tearing at the soft fabric of your stockings, his lips instantly meeting the skin of your knees before you had the chance to even gasp. All the while, he kept his eye on you as if his heart would cease to beat if he could not watch the way you reacted to him. 
It became increasingly harder to breathe. There were so many thoughts, so many sensations that you struggled to put it all together. Your flushed with anticipation, your cunt throbbed at the wet plushness of his lips on your hot skin and your hips squirmed at what was to come. 
Your mind, however, flashed with the image of Aemond, exactly as he was now, between another woman’s thighs. A woman who didn’t flinch at the unfamiliar touch, who didn’t jerk away at the foreign feeling of being pleasured. You wondered if he would be so angered at the prospect of another man’s mouth on her womanhood, if her skin felt softer or more rough on his lips and if he looked at her with the same heated need.
It made you feel sick. 
Aemond let himself enjoy the way your thighs tensed, pulling your smallclothes off of you as much as carefully as he could under the restriction of your skirts. There was an urge to rip the entire dress off but he knew it would be a step too far. He couldn’t help the low sounds that left him, sounds he couldn’t recognise. The expanse of your thighs and the sight of your flushed, hot cunt in front of him made his mouth water with a hunger that would have shocked him had he not been so distracted by your scent. 
Without complete vision, Aemond had learned to train his sense of touch, taste, smell and hearing to make up for the disadvantage he was stuck with. They were always slightly heightened compared to those who never needed the compensation of senses but in the cloud of desire and lust, he was sensitive. 
You whined at the way his tongue glided over your skin, biting down hard but not hard enough to be painful on the flesh of your upper thigh so close to where you needed to feel him. But Aemond was always remarkably patient and he merely made way to your other leg, repeating his ministrations and licking you from your knee to where he bit you at your thigh. 
The haze that had possessed you made you lose track of your thoughts so easily. Still, they fought their way to the forefront of your mind at every chance they could and you were reminded of her. 
Aemond’s mind was overwhelmed by you. There was no power in the realm that could make him think of anything else, not with the way you were trembling under his feathered touch and making such beautiful sounds for him, and not when he desired for anyone else apart from you. 
A heavy breath of shame and excitement tumbled out of you at how lewdly he dragged the tip of his nose across your thigh, pressing it into the flesh that sat above your slick, aching cunt and inhaling. You clenched around nothing, your clit twitching at the sound of Aemond’s unabashed groan. 
He grasped at your hips and your legs, his fingers burying into your flesh and tugging as if there would never be enough of you in his hands. It would have driven you into a similarly desperate state had things been different. 
The prince between your thighs was a sight to behold. Aemond’s skin was flushed pink, his eyepatch slightly out of place and his hair tousled from the way your legs clenched and unclenched against his head. He was almost drooling, mumbling about how good you smelled and how perfect and pretty your cunt was for him. His cock had never been so hard, constricted by the stiff leather of his training attires. 
Aemond enjoyed being a tease but there was only so much he could handle himself. While he wanted you to crave for him the way he was craving you so unbearably, Aemond needed to taste you. He needed to make you feel the blinding pleasure he should have been giving you at every chance he had since the night you were married. He needed to show you the ways of unbridled human desire and to show you all the ways your body could come undone and fall apart only to feel completely whole and fulfilled. 
There was no changing the past but Aemond would make up for how completely inattentive he had been. He would show you all the more fervently. When Aemond placed an open mouthed kiss just above your slit, letting a string of his spit glide off of his tongue onto your sensitive pussy, you shuddered.
All at once your mind was once again taken over by unsavoury thoughts. It had your eyes welling with tears, a familiar lump lodging in your throat, threatening to come out in a devastated sob. There was a ringing in your ears and you were back at Aemond’s door, peeking in only to see him giving that woman the same touch he was giving you right now. He had seemed so enthralled by her and the way she must have tasted. It was as if he’d been there before, indulging in her with so much passion it rivalled how eagerly touched you in this moment. 
Did her smell fill his veins with fire as yours was? Did her scent alone make his cock as painfully hard as yours did? Did her cunt drip for him the way yours did? Was the hunger in his eye shining for her too?
It was terrifying to consider. 
Aemond would spend hours here, he had decided. His duties for the day could be damned to the hells for all he cared. There was a rumbling in his chest for what he saw in front of him, inviting him to indulge and filling his mind with senseless ardour. Aemond let himself enjoy just the scent of you, his eye fluttering shut and his nose gently resting above your folds as he breathed you in, caressing your thighs softly with his hands. As if he were starved for years, Aemond salivated and with no patience left within him, he brought his lips downwards to meet the precious cunt he had been dreaming of. 
With a whimper that you couldn’t hold back, you jerked away from him. Aemond pulled away in surprise, his gaze full of confusion and lust and insecurity. “Wait, my love—“
You had slipped free of his grasp, a strangled cry escaping no matter how hard you tried to keep it in. There was one tear that slipped free, followed by countless more and you couldn’t look at him anymore, couldn’t bear to see that he was hurt before scrambling away from him. 
She was stuck in your mind. The memory of Aemond’s little trysts with her replaying behind your eyes no matter how hard you tried to shut it out. It was clear that there was nothing you could do to get ahold of yourself because everytime you looked at him, so enthralled in you and your sex, she was there. 
Laughing at you in the back of your mind, as if she had taken residence in a permanent place in your head, enjoying the state of despair and madness she and Aemond had led you to. 
But she couldn’t be in your head. Not really. Not in the way it felt she was. 
You barely glanced back at Aemond through your tears, struggling to even your breathing and calm the rapid beating of your heart. He hadn’t moved much; just simply stayed there frowning at the space that you had once occupied on the chair. 
There was nothing he could do to change things. Aemond knew that as well as you did. But there was a pain in your heart at the way he looked so defeated, so guilty that it almost seemed like he would melt into a puddle of remorse. A far stretch from the usual stoic warrior that you had known him as.
“My prince, I–” you swallowed, your voice catching when he looked up at you with a wide eye and furrowed eyebrows. For a moment you remembered that he had no right - but he was trying, was he not? “I cannot continue with this knowing that you had touched her like this. It angers me and it upsets me and it pains me to think of it but ‘tis beyond my control.”
He stayed silent, observing the way you hid yourself from him and struggled to meet his gaze. There was a sullen look to you, one you had not entered with and it stuck needles in his flesh to think that he had been the cause of it. Aemond’s entire body felt hot and he was itching to tear off his leathers. He wished the gods would strike him down as he was for hurting you so.
You had turned away, disappearing from his quarters swiftly. You would never forget the image of how you had left him there–it was both satisfying and devastating. 
Aemond, still on his knees for the ghost of you, his expression tortured and his shoulders tensed. It was a pathetic sight, should anyone stumble upon it, but you considered it beautiful. Beautiful in a lethal, catastrophic manner. Not unlike himself; a weaponised source of destruction who had a tendency to bring torment upon those he loved. 
The rest of your day had been spent alone in your chambers. You hadn’t cried so much over any of it until now. The tears and sobs that you had held inside of yourself for weeks had forced themselves out, along with the emotions you had pushed down until you could no longer. 
Aemond had a certain control while you were sitting in that seat, skirts bunched to your stomach and quivering for him to have his way. Regardless, the power was still yours and you knew that it was Aemond who was wrapped tightly around your finger at that moment. He would have listened to anything you had said–done anything you had told him to do. 
Perhaps you had become too stubborn in your anger to have let yourself feel anything else. A retributive anger; one that sprouted from the lack of love that existed in your marriage and reached a climax at Aemond’s brazen adultery. And it only grew stronger in whatever back and forth Aemond had encouraged by dangling his whore in front of your face. 
Whatever it was, you were feeling so much more now than you had before. 
Or perhaps it was because you could see that Aemond was remorseful. He would never yet admit it but you knew from the way he had behaved since you had visited him in his bed. It was no act of redemption and definitely no apology but it was impossible to ignore the change in him. You had never seen Aemond the way you had seen him this morning. 
Vulnerable, gentle, tormented. 
A knock on your door had you sniffling and wiping away any tear stains that may have lingered on your cheeks. You had stopped crying for some time but the need to wallow and lament had stayed. When you called out to ask, the guard at your door notified you of the Dowager Queen’s presence. 
Oh, seven hells. 
There was really no chance you could refuse her so you merely let her in and called a servant to bring some refreshments. Queen Alicent sat herself down but remained tense, carefully watching you as you took a place beside her. 
“Have you been crying?” Her concern was comforting. “I believe I know why.”
You straightened, not meeting the eye of the woman who reached a tender hand to your knee. Hiding behind a forced smile, you let out a breathy laugh. “I am certain the entirety of the Red Keep knows, Your Grace.”
“It has been known for some time,” Alicent was gentle, her cautionary gaze telling you that she was apprehensive about bringing her son’s misadventures up. You held your breath. “Since the first time he had summoned that Alys woman-”
“Alys? Is that her name?”
“You do not know?” There was a tense silence. Alicent couldn’t meet your gaze, pity swimming across her features. Aemond was her son and there were many things that she had let her sons get away with but her heart pained at the broken quiver in your voice. 
Alicent had noticed the change in Aemond since the night that you had found him with Alys. The second time. He had never paid much attention to you aside from what appearances required yet Alicent knew her son far more than he would be willing to accept. She had known that there was something in his heart for you, no matter how small and no matter how it dwindled until set alight. 
Aemond had done the wrong thing. She had no doubts about that. Alicent would have words with him once she figured out what to say to him. But he was her son and there were certain misdoings that she knew she had to defend them through. To protect his marriage, his image and his happiness. The Queen Dowager cleared her throat and reached for your hand, eyebrows furrowing at the way you stared down at your lap, the anguish you felt in your heart written clearly across your face. 
“I understand that you are hurting, my dear. Although my husband remained faithful to me until his death and I cannot quite imagine the pain in your heart–I see how you have love for my son, even if you nor him have known it, I do understand,” Alicent took a breath, closing her eyes. “This is the way of men. And princes–”
“Please, Your Grace, I mean this with utmost respect for you but I do not wish to hear your excuses,” you whispered. There was a prickly, breathless worry that had settled in your gut. What did you not know? Was this Alys someone who mattered? “But I would like to know what you are withholding from me about this woman. I believe I deserve that at the very least.”
Alicent stared at you for a moment, examining you. She could drive her son further into the ground with what she was about to say. “Aemond had a paramour–at least it was rumoured, he never spoke of such things with me. Alys Rivers, a wetnurse and servant woman from Harrenhal.”
“A paramour?”
“It was before you were married,” Alicent was quick to clarify. “I had assumed that Aemond wanted nothing more to do with her when she left–at his order, I believe. Some say she was a witch. Perhaps she enchanted him.” 
You couldn’t look at her. She was more than just a whore? Had he lied to you right from the beginning? Bile rose up in your throat. There was a thrum in your ears, the sound of your own heartbeat and you feared that you would be sick from the drop in your gut. 
“Did he love her? Could he still?”
Alicent sucked in a breath. “I do not know, my child.”
All you could do was nod pathetically. Alicent was a woman of great strength and dedication; you had once wished to be much like her one day. But as you sat beside her now, you wished she had been a liar and a cheat and a meddling gossip. That you could find a way to fault her words but you could tell it caused her great difficulty to speak of Aemond’s actions honestly. 
Ever poised and elegant, Alicent only leaned forward to you, her posture straight as a needle and her touch soft as linen. “I did not mean to upset you further. I only meant to speak with you about returning to Courtly activities, with the other Ladies and Helaena has been asking for you. And the Ladies speak–”
“They speak terribly of me,” you scoffed, allowing a humourless laugh. “I understand, Your Grace. I will return to spending my days in company other than my own.”
Alicent hated to pry but she felt that she must, now that she had dealt her cards against Aemond’s fate. “Perhaps you should speak with Aemond. He cares for you deeply. It would be a shame for your union to fall apart over such misunderstandings.”
If not for formality, you would have rolled your eyes. Again, you simply nodded, your mind reeling back to the woman that Alicent had given a name to. You would ask Aemond about her. It would be the less damning option rather than turning to Aegon once more but the idea of speaking to Aemond about a woman he may once have loved still made you want to crawl underneath the sheets of your bed and disappear. 
You thought of the woman who you had seen through the crack in the door and wished you had taken extra care in looking at her. There was little you could recall other than the darkness and length of her hair, the paleness of her skin and the perfection in her curves as she pleasured Aemond and as he did the same for her. 
As if she was familiar with all the things that made him weak. All the things that made Aemond weak. How she had touched him like she was an expert in his body. And you thought of Aemond, bare and comfortable with her. Aemond with his sapphire glimmering under the lamplight instead of an eye, a rawness and trust that you had never seen of him until that night. 
He trusted her.
Alys Rivers. 
.....................................................
Tagging: @padfooteyes @thedyingwriter @mamawiggers1980 @queenofshinigamis @ewanmitchellfanatic @nurtargaryen
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misctf · 1 day
Text
Singing a New Tune
Written for Occam's 2000 Follower Writing Challenge
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“Babe, I love you.”
Jared smiled down at Julie, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He had to imagine his girlfriend dreamed of this moment. A romantic kiss at a Tiffany Stabina concert as the star finished out her set with one of Julie’s favorite songs. A slow romantic song- one that Jared knew all too well from frequent replays in the car.  
“Anything for you babe.” He replied, holding her closely in his muscular arms, “I love you too.”
This certainly wasn’t his kind of music. And he didn’t understand the cult-like devotion to Tiffany. But seeing Julie this happy? Worth it. Still, he imagined the other straight dudes here were thinking similarly. In fact, he and the guy next to him shared several looks throughout the night. A silent comradery acknowledging they’d rather be elsewhere. And if they had been elsewhere, Jared would’ve asked the guy for his arm day routine.
“Alright babe, we ought to head out before...”
“To all my fans, I love you!” Tiffany called out, their cheers drowning Jared’s words, “You’ve all been with me from the beginning, and I am so grateful.” She placed a hand over her heart, “But you all know I’ve been criticized.” The fans all booed, “And they’ve come after you too.”
“A bit dramatic.” Jared chuckled, earning a glare from Julie.
“You wouldn’t get it.” She replied, “They go after he for everything.” The jock nodded, not wanting to risk ruining their perfect night, “But when she sings, it’s like she’s speaking directly to you. People just don’t get it.” Jared nodded. There were some things just not worth it.
“I wasn’t going to do this, but I have a new song for you all this evening!” The crowd erupted in screams and applause. Jared groaned, “They say I’m pandering? Then I’ll pander.” She continued, and the crowd got louder.
Jared knew there would be no way of getting Julie to leave now. And he silently dreaded the hours they’d be stuck in traffic. But as the song started and Tiffany’s words echoed through the stadium, his thoughts slowed.
“They say I only cater to a few.”
Jared felt lightheaded, the sound of the crowd growing distant.
“The gays and the girls, oh boo hoo.”
“Julie?” He whispered, but she didn’t respond, “Julie, please...” He felt sick. The world was spinning, everything becoming black, “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” He whispered. He couldn’t move. Was he dying? Was this it?
“But I won’t back down, I won’t apologize.” Jared looked up and saw her. Tiffany Stabina. Standing in front of him, “For making them feel alive.” She strutted towards the helpless jock.
“What...? How is this...?”
“I see you dancing in the dark, feeling completely torn apart.” She sang.
Jared yelped as he felt a cool breeze caress him. And to his horror, he realized he was nude. Butt naked in front of Tiffany Stabina no less. She grinned and approached him, circling his nude figure and wrapping her arms around him.
“Embrace your uniqueness, don’t hide.”
Jared gasped as she placed pressure on his shoulders. He felt the floor getting closer as he lost inch after inch of height. He now stood at eye level with the 5’6” popstar.
“Wait? What did you do to me?” He yelped.
“Now let my music take you for a ride.”
She ran a hand along his muscular arms. Her very touch sent a wave of pleasure straight to his dick, and he blushed as all 10 inches stood at attention. Tiffany smirked, but continued rubbing his biceps and triceps. Her sensual touch was intoxicated, and Jared watched helplessly as his proud muscles started to diminish. His biceps atrophied, followed quickly by his triceps. His slender arms giving off the appearance they hadn’t seen a gym in years. He tried to cry out, but Tiffany placed a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him. He could only watch as her hands roamed his impressive pecs. He had always been proud of his pecs, and he loved when Julie rested her head on his chest. But now, he could only watch as they flattened away.
“Wait...” He was able to force out. But Tiffany was relentless, and her hands roamed down his abs.
He shed a few tears as his abs vanished, leaving him with a flat, slender tummy. There was no way this could be happening. It had to be some type of acid trip or something. Jared kept trying to reassure himself, even as she moved to his legs and quickly destroyed his muscular thighs and calves, leaving his legs slender and dainty. His feet followed, and quickly diminished from size 13s to 9.5s in mere seconds.
“My music is my contagion, unapologetic. Now we’re gonna collide.” Tiffany continued, this time wrapping her hands around his cock, “My fans are my tribe, I won’t divide.”
Jared felt like the wind was knocked out of him from both the pain and pleasure from her touch. And he watched as she shrunk his proud member. The young jock always knew he was well endowed. And he knew how to use it too. But as he watched his dick shrink from its proud ten inches to a mere 3 inches hard, he felt his confidence diminish.
“We’ll rise together, side by side.”
Her hands made their way to his flat ass. He tried to crane his neck to see what she was about to do. But he didn’t need to see. He could immediately feel his ass expand in her hands, filling them with firm, yet jiggly fat and muscle. He let out a moan as she caressed his basketball-sized ass cheeks, and he nearly came when she gave one a firm slap.
“Pl-please stop...” He begged as she placed a hand over his neck, “You can't do thith...” His voice cracked and he winced, “What’th happening to my voithe? Why do I thound like thith?” He begged, his voice cracking, “No, thith doethn't thound right.” His voice settled a few octaves higher, his masculine tone now lost forever.
“So bring on the hate, let the critics rage. We’ll keep on dancing, it’s time to turn the page.”
As she continued to caress his now slender body, and grind against him, he felt off. His dick  softened, as her physicality became less appealing to him. Her bouncing boobs and thick lips didn’t seem to do it for him. Even her touch was losing its pleasure. And he realized in terror what was occurring.
“No, not thith!” He begged, “Come on, come, think of thomething.” He remembered the BJ Julie gave him last night, and even the lesbian porn he watched a few days ago. But his measly member stayed soft, “No... pleathe...”
He felt Tiffany’s hand on his head. His pleading eyes met hers, and he knew he’d find no mercy. His hair restyled itself, and he felt a piercing pain in his left earlobe, which suddenly adourned a diamond stud. But her touch was doing far more than making a few style alterations. In his mind, his memories were shifting. Showering after football practice? Changing in the locker room after a lifting session with his bros? Watching football with his family?
“Oh god...” He moaned, as his small dick hardened and his ass throbbed with need.
He didn’t play football. He got fucked by the quarterback in the shower after a game. He wasn’t lifting at the gym. He was doing cardio and sucking off the gym bros between their sets. He didn’t watch sports like football. He just sat and scrolled on his phone, reading up on the latest Tiffany Stabina gossip and scrolling his socials. And as his new reality cemented itself, Jared’s eyes lost their intelligent spark and became half-lidded, his brain filling with celebrity gossip and how to please guys.
“This contagion’s here to stay, and we’ll celebrate it every day.”
She kissed him on the cheek. And with that, Jared was back. The cheers of the crowd filling his ears, as Tiffany thanked her fans and left the stage. Jared smiled.
“Oh my god! That wath tho amathing!” He cheered, “Tiffany! I love you!” He yelled, “It wath like Tiffany thpoke to me.”
“You felt that way too?” Jared turned and came face to face with a man of similar build. Albeit with slightly bigger arms, “Tiffany, like, totally thpeakth for uth.” He grinned as Jared felt up his arms.
“Wait!” A voice called out behind him, “Did you see the guy I came here with?” Julie asked, looking around desperately, “I swear, he was right here. I...”
“Thorry thithter, I hope you find him!” Jared replied, turning his attention back to the guy.
“Tho weird, thome poor girl athked me about her boyfriend too.” The man replied, “Probably got drunk and left to watch football.”
“OMG tho lame.” Jared laughed. The two smiled at one another, “Tho, like...”
“Wanna go back to my place? I have her latetht album.” The man winked, and Jared shuddered as his ass throbbed with need.
“That thounds delightful.” Jared replied, pulling the man in closer, his smile widening as the man squeezed his ass, “Oh! But like firtht I totally need a thelfie! I want everyone to know I thupport Tiffany and Tiffany thupports me!” He cheered, capturing their kiss on camera and posting it to his socials.
Later that night, Jared and his lover explored one another’s new bodies. Jared gasping at the size of his lover’s cock, moaning as he felt a firm hand squeeze his ass. His moans would continue to fill the room that night. With each thrust of his new lover’s dick, Jared was in heaven. Unaware of his former life or the horror it would bring his former self to see him like this. Just another horny slut- another gay twink dedicated to Tiffany Stabina.
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mattybsgroupie · 3 days
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omg walking in on Chris jerking off in the mirror
this is what happens when you guys keep sending me asks about chris. i think of him too deeply and write TOO much. im not ready to admit it but i may be in love with him and i fucking forgot his color is orange
he’s sitting on his chair, legs spread open. he has a full body mirror in his room, which was supposed to be for getting ready and checking his outfit. however, it had been a while he started using it for other purposes. chris would look at pictures of you he had on his phone, scrolling mindlessly through the folder he named “mine”.
he had all sorts of pics, some where you guys were being silly, some romantic, some — many — intimate. he loved one in particular. you had your knees against the floor, your head resting on his thighs while his large hand gripped on your hair. you guys weren’t doing anything, but it was something in the way your eyes looked, how intriguing they were to him and how perfectly they seemed with that innocent expression on your face. your lips had a slight pout and he could see most of your breasts on a push-up bra, being pulled up to seem bigger.
that picture never failed to get him hard. it only took a few minutes until his pants started to tighten, and chris had never been patient. he didn’t enjoy having a boner and would rather finish that quickly instead of hiding it, or pretending he wasn’t painfully hard by the thought of you on your knees, blowing him off.
he wasted no time in pulling his cock out, wrapping his hand around his length and quickly pumping himself. chris continued to scroll through the pictures, jerking himself off until he realized how much his tip was leaking.
he locked the phone screen and admired how good he looked in the mirror. he knew he was hot. something about his own lips parted or his hair glued on his forehead immediately switched him to a more submissive mindset, allowing himself to moan your name more than just a couple times.
he kept thinking of you there, your soft hands, your pace, your voice, anything from you. he became louder as his orgasm approached — he just forgot you were supposed to come over.
as you entered the house, you were startled by the sudden noises. you had sure you heard chris calling you. you carefully made your way to his room, peeking trough the half-opened door.
“please god i need you so bad” he whimpered, jerking himself off at a incredibly fast pace.
“you need me?” you interrupted chris, who widened his eyes and loosened his grip, totally caught off guard. he gulped as you walked closer to him, your hand caressing his hair. “yes, need you so bad” he begged, blue eyes filled with desperation.
you kneeled down after giving him a peck, replacing his hand for your own. guess his dreams would finally come true.
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fanaticsnail · 19 hours
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presses the +1 button for write it write it write it re: the vampire post im
🥺🥺🥺
biggest, saddest, wettest eyes pleading sldakjlkgfdjksgkl
got out of work and immediately got smacked in the face with that post im aslkdjkglfd ALSO that gif of law is 👌
@remisloves
Anything for you, Remi! I'll call it a gift exchange for you for your art of my OC, Tobiuo. I also adore that Law gif, so I'm gonna use it again! Thank you for your ask, Remi 🖤🖤
Invitation
Masterlist Here
Word Count: 1,500+
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Synopsis: Based on vampiric folklore, a vampire may not come inside a premises without an explicit invitation. The vampire, Trafalgar D Water Law, was now left with a predicament, and you were not playing fair about it.
Themes: Vampire!Law x gn!reader, mdni, 18+, NSFW, smut, prior relationship hinted, penetrative sex (reader receiving), bratty reader, begging, pleading, crying, vampire biting - blood consumption, porn with plot, biting, edging, based on this post.
Notes: Returning to my vampire era again. Oh no.
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“Please.”
That small word was the greatest symphony to the world’s most fantastic serenade. The body between your thighs, nestled with his cock deep within your abdomen, and rhythmically bucking up with the crude slap of hips thrusting, was the vampire: Trafalgar D Water Law.
You had been friends for a while, the heart pirates stampeding onto your island and begging to port to resupply from your homeland granted your first meeting. The captain of the Polar Tang had his Were-bear speak for him, Bepo the peaceful mouthpiece for his demands while negotiating the resupply. The winged naga, Penguin, and the fey trickster, Shachi, ensured you were informed of the dire circumstances they found themselves within. Their captain had been inadvertently starved, his grip on his own sanity slipping the longer he withheld his urge to feed on a human.
He was a doctor, and a creature damned, yet deemed savior to the living. His soul was long since departed, yet here he was: stripped down to naught but his essence and begging for you from your position above him.
“No.”
That response alone had him whimpering, his eyes stinging at the corners from the creases where his lashes kissed one another. He looked up at you like you were the lifeline tethering him to the world, coinciding with his desperate bucking, had you feeling superior and empowered.
While you did grant the Polar Tang permission to dock at your port, you did not gift Trafalgar Law, the vampire, permission to come inside your body. With the ‘rules of permission’ induced in with vampiric folklore, come and cum seemed to be interchangeable.
You had been edging this vampire for almost half an hour now. The mixture of your blood from a deep bite against your jugular swirled with the lust he was burying within you. Your body homed his cock with an ease he hadn't experienced prior, and he was easily lost to the feeling of your soul entwining physically with his.
“Please,” he cried out, his cock refusing to spill while his shaft shuddered in pure need, “I-I can't. It won't. The-... Please.”
His sweet babbles falling from your lips had you cooing and preening down at the dark-haired man. His inked fingers dug into your hips dangerously hard, his restraint tested with each slide of his cock dragging into your body.
“Why won't you let me come in?”
His round, glossy eyes darted between yours as his question rang deep within your mind. No amount of vampiric hypnosis could cause a human to invite someone in, and he would never dream of such a notion. He needed you to need him, and he had never been on the precipice of desire for as long as he was with you.
Pleasure had bloomed and crested within your body twice so far, and you had enjoyed each rock and buck from the skilled vampire who coaxed them out of you. Another wave of desire simmered the longer he begged, and your eyes glazed at how easily you sucked him deep inside you. He was lost with you, his heels planted while he encouraged you to pump his cock with your entrance.
“You want to come in?” you gently cooed down at him, cupping his cool cheek beneath your palm briefly before bringing both of your hands to perch on his shoulders. “You could have pulled out at any time, vampire. What held you fixated?”
“B-Better if I-I cum while drinking from you,” he admitted, his voice catching in his throat while he fought off the fatigue marrying his withheld release. “Please let me come in. I n-need to cum, I need to cum, I need to cum-!”
The captain you once met on your shore, stoic in nature and abrasive in conversation, was begging to flood you with his cum. He needed to release deep within you, and his resolve was wearing away at the edges the longer you forbade him.
“You can hold off a while longer,” you pouted down at him, teasing him with a gentle hand tracing his pectorals towards his sensitive nipple, “Show me that vampiric resilience.”
At that coax, a deep growl erupted from his throat while he rolled you immediately beneath him. He chased his high, the sloppy and languid thrusts of his cock prompting him to whimper and whine with each steady motion. You sighed and gasped at the new angle, your voice catching and fluttering in a similar mannerism to the way your body desperately contracted in rhythmic waves clapping against his shaft.
“You want to come inside?” you gently teased him. He cried out, sobbing while nodding his head at your question. His canines retracted over his lips, his mouth parting and gently tracing over the prior bite you first allowed him to puncture and soothe on your mortal flesh.
He was so hungry when you first met him, you could barely begin to escort him to town before baring your neck out for him to feast on. The eyes sunken and drooped, the features hollowed and forlorn of the vampiric captain tugged at your heartstrings, and you allowed him to feed from you to replenish himself.
After that point, you had not once invited him back to your house, nor given him permission to come in. Both of those factors now brought you heightened joy at the control you held above his head. Although you remained friends and grew in deeper infatuation the longer he remained with you, you were yet to take him fully home.
“Please let me come in,” he whimpered in heavy gasps against your neck, his lengthy tongue expelling and flickering over your skin, “I need to cum inside you. Please? I-I need you.” You flung your arms over his shoulders and cradled him in the nook. He didn't make a move to bite down or bully you, but his moans where muffled huffs against your skin regardless.
“Please.”
You hooked your legs over his hips and interlaced your ankles behind his back, digging your heels into his cool skin and spurring him to fuck into your body harder. His desperate thrusts ran sloppy and desperate as he sobbed into your neck. Your hands traced his tattoo before digging your blunt fingertips into his muscle.
“Okay, sweetheart,” you gasped, already feeling on the precipice of another wave of pleasure crashing over you at his sweet begging and pleading.
“You can come in.”
Immediately his sloppy motions sped up, his cum flooding your body with a stream of viscous release. His teeth surged down and punctured your pulse, moaning at your essence of life as it hit his palate. Your body was no better, immediately bowing your back in a perfect arch and giving in to your third release. White split your vision, the pain from his bite dissipating as your body reached a higher realm of bliss.
His rigid body fell forward, his sobs fading into growled huffs and pants while his cock twitched akin to matching his likely initial rigor mortis. His cool skin melted against your warm torso, his ice-like tongue lapping at the wound and healing it with his saliva.
As you felt your high dissipate, you attempted to wriggle away from his embrace to look up at the vampire weighing his body heavily on you. His grip on you was strong, and he seemed far away and withdrawn in his mind while he lapped at your skin.
“Law?” you queried, attempting to nudge him away from his position nuzzled into your skin. He released a sound that was akin to a laugh before slowly withdrawing up to peer down at you. Hips began to move once more, his hard and steely cock once again hitting a spot that shot sparks up your spine and need pooling in your belly.
“You invited me to come in,” he chuckled, pressing his forehead to yours while his he fucked his exiting cum back into your body, “I'm going to use that hospitality to the fullest, and come in over and over again until I deem it appropriate to stop.”
“Law-!” Your cries fell on deaf ears as he held your hips down and rut into you. Cruel slaps echoed within the room, his prior begs turning into feral grunts at each heavy buck. You reached down in a bid to hold onto him for anchorage, an action he slapped playfully away while he continued his animalistic brutality.
“Nuh uh,” he chuckled down at you playfully, “For all that teasing you gave me earlier, I am going to get my revenge by tearing out orgasm after orgasm from you. All you gotta do is lay there and take what I'm giving to you."
Your body gave in, need again returning and flooding your veins with its reignition. Lips parting and jaw slacking, your legs hang limply over his hips and encouraged him to thrust deeper and harder. His hands move to circle your thighs tug them against him to gain leverage for his motions.
“That's it,” Law praised you with a cockiness in his tone, “You just think about what you did to bring this on. Gonna cum in you whenever I want now."
"Thank you for your invitation.”
Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory
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ashwhowrites · 1 day
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Yay! Your request is open!! 🥰 I hope this makes sense to you. I don’t see any rules that you don’t write for but I’m going to giving try. If you’re not comfortable with, ignore it.
Rockstar!Eddie x pregnant!reader: angst/fluff; eddie have gone pretty much all over the world for the band. He kept the promise that he’ll be home to his wife before a baby comes but the flight was delayed and worried he won’t be home. He really needs a miracle.
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Dad's promise
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Eddie was having the time of his life on tour with his band. They traveled all over the world and had their last show. He couldn't wait to be home with his wife. She was amazing and supported Eddie's dream. She only had one rule- he HAD to be home for the birth.
He promised he would not miss the birth of their first child and he did everything in his power to stand by that. He was rushing the band to the airport, refusing to let any of them stop for snacks or even use the bathroom. He wanted to be on the flight on time and go home to his wife.
He talked to her every day and he missed her like crazy. He got her and the baby a gift from every stop on the tour, he didn't care that he had to pay for another carry-on. His phone was blowing up from Y/N, alerting him that she was going into labor and he needed to get home as fast as he could.
He was sitting in his seat, practically shaking as he looked around. A flight attendant walked past and he was quick to call out to her.
"Excuse me, how long until we take off?"
"Should be any minute, sir." She said, a big smile on her face as she walked away. Eddie groaned but accepted the answer. He tried to calm himself down but it was clear he was panicking.
"We'll get you there as fast as we can, kid." Eddie's manager said as he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"I have to make it back. If I don't she'll never forgive me and I won't forgive myself." Eddie said he closed his eyes as he tried to keep his breathing stable.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. We are looking at an hour delay and will continue to give updates throughout the hour. Thank you."
"Are you fucking serious?" Eddie groaned, and a few people turned to look at him with a disapproving look. But he didn't care, he was about to have a panic attack.
"Just breathe, Eddie. There's a chance she still might be in labor by the time we arrive." His manager said but Eddie was unbuckling from his seat.
"Not a chance I'm willing to take. I made a promise and I'm not letting her do this alone." Eddie snapped, grabbing his bags and demanding for the doors to open.
~~~
"Where is he?" Y/N cried, sweat covering her body as she screamed out. The pain was becoming unbearable and she was getting scared Eddie wasn't going to make it.
"I'm sure he'll be here any minute. Keep breathing," the nurse said as she allowed Y/N to grip her hand.
"How close am I?" Y/N asked, her eyes traveled to the door.
"The baby is ready now," the doctor said, Y/N shook her head no as he sat down.
"No, no. We have to wait for my husband! He's coming!" She panicked
"I'm sorry but we can't wait," the doctor said. Y/N begged and begged but the doctor continued to prep for the baby.
Y/N cried but did what she had to do. She gripped the nurse's hand and began to push.
~
Eddie ran into the hospital, smacking into the front desk as he frantically asked for his wife's room.
"I'll take you there and prep you"
Eddie breathed a sigh of relief that he made it in time, following behind the lady as she took him through the doors.
He listened carefully as the lady told him what to do and how to wear the appropriate clothes. His hands were shaking, wishing the lady would stop talking and let him in the damn room.
Once she told him the number, he was running down the hallway. His eyes scanned the numbers as fast as he could.
~
Y/N screamed as she continued to push, her sweat and tears mixing as they fell down her neck.
"I see the head, keep pushing, Y/N. You got this!" The doctor encouraged. Y/N nodded and took a second to breathe.
The door burst open, and Eddie came running in. Once they made eye contact, they both sighed with relief.
"Oh, thank God," Y/N laughed. Eddie smiled and was quick to switch spots with the nurse. He grabbed her hand and gave it a small kiss.
"I'm here, I'm here. You can do it, love." He whispered to her, but she kept her eyes on him. She smiled through her tears and nodded.
"I tried to make them wait"
Eddie chucked at her words, "That's okay. I'm here so let's do this, yeah? Have us a baby?"
She nodded and turned back to the doctor, her hand holding Eddie's as she began to push again. She felt far less scared now that he was here.
With a few final pushes, the sound of a baby crying filled the room. Eddie kept his hand with her but moved to see the baby.
"Congratulations, you have a baby girl"
Eddie leaned over and kissed Y/N's sweaty forehead, pushing back her hair.
"You did it!" He smiled, kissing her again and again.
Once they cleared the baby up, the doctor passed her to Y/N.
"She's beautiful," Y/N gasped. She held the tiny baby in her arms, her heart full.
"Just like you," Eddie whispered, speaking as softly as he could. He reached over and softly touched the baby's head.
"I can't believe I'm a girl Dad"
Y/N looked up at him, watching as his eyes filled with tears. Eddie felt her staring and looked back at her. He never thought he'd have his own little family in a million years, but here he was.
"You two are going to be my whole world"
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lxvsiick · 2 days
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CUTE PIZZA DELIVERY BOY | KIM LEEHAN X READER
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PAIRING: pizza delivery boy! kim leehan x fem! reader
SUMMARY: To thank her friends for helping her move in, Y/n orders them a pizza, not expecting the pizza delivery boy to be super cute -- or in which Leehan fights with his coworker to deliver pizza to Y/n.
GENRE: imagine, fluff
WORDCOUNT: 2.3k
A/N: honestly this isn't my best work :( i wanted to write more but my head is kinda killing me right now and i have to study for 2 midterms :/ anyways, i know nothing about RIIZE but i like anton so is this a sign to get into RIIZE ??
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Boxes scattered across the floor, bubble wrap littering every surface, and the scent of new beginnings filled the air in Y/n’s brand-new apartment. Her friends bustled about, helping her organize and unpack her things. Laughter echoed through the space as they joked about where things should go and reminisced about their last get-together. To thank them for their help, she had ordered pizza—a classic move when no one had the energy left to cook.
“Should be here soon,” she said, checking the time on her phone. “Thirty minutes, they said.”
As time ticked closer, the doorbell rang, startling her from where she was stacking dishes in the cupboard. She glanced at her friends. "I'll get it!"
She hurried to the door, wiping her hands on her jeans before opening it. The moment the door swung open, her breath caught. Standing there was the delivery boy—blonde hair tousled perfectly, big brown doe eyes, and a casual, friendly smile playing on his lips. He wore the typical pizza uniform, but something about him felt... different. He was absolutely beautiful.
For a moment, she just stood there, staring at him, her mind drawing a blank. Was this real? Was a guy this cute really delivering her pizza?
“Uh… the total comes to $25.50,” the delivery boy said, his voice snapping her back to reality.
“Oh! Right. Sorry!” she stammered, fumbling into her pocket to grab the money. Her fingers shook slightly as she counted the bills, still thrown off by how utterly gorgeous he was. After what felt like an eternity, she handed him the money.
He smiled warmly, clearly amused by her nervousness but in a sweet, nonjudgmental way. “Thanks for ordering with us! Hope you enjoy it,” he said, his voice kind and light. His smile widened just a bit, giving her a cute, almost shy wave as he turned to leave.
She couldn’t help but watch as he walked away, disappearing around the corner of the hallway. It was only once the door clicked shut behind her that she realized she had been holding her breath. She stood there for a second, pizza in hand, feeling her heart beat just a little faster.
“Everything okay?” Yoon called from the living room.
With a shake of her head, she snapped out of it and walked back to the group, setting the pizza boxes down on the coffee table.
“So…” she started, her voice still a little flustered. “The delivery guy was really cute.”
Her friends immediately perked up, eyes widening. “Wait, what? Cute how? Like, movie star cute or cute cute?” J asked.
“Like, blonde-haired, brown doe eyes, I-thought-I-was-dreaming cute,” she replied, her cheeks flushing slightly as she thought back to his smile.
They burst out laughing, teasing her as they grabbed slices of pizza. “You should’ve gotten his number,” Wonyoung teased.
She shrugged, but the blush on her face gave away that the thought had crossed her mind. Maybe next time, if she was lucky, the same delivery boy would show up.
For now, she tried to focus on her friends and their excitement over the pizza, but her mind kept wandering back to the way the boy had smiled at her—like maybe he had noticed her staring but hadn’t minded at all.
✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡
The soft hum of her phone filled the cozy living room as Y/n scrolled aimlessly through social media. The low lighting from the nearby lamp cast a warm glow on the walls, and the sound of faint music played in the background, but her mind wasn’t really on any of it.
Instead, she kept thinking about him. The cute pizza delivery guy from a few days ago. His tousled blonde hair, the way he’d smiled at her—it kept replaying in her mind. It was silly, really. She had only seen him for a few minutes, but there was something about that moment that stuck with her. Maybe it was the way he had caught her off guard with his unexpected charm. Or maybe it was just the fact that he seemed so sweet.
Her stomach suddenly growled, breaking through her thoughts. With a sigh, she glanced at the time. It was getting late, and she had no energy to cook. A smirk crossed her face as an idea popped into her head. Pizza. Again. And maybe, just maybe, she’d get lucky.
Without hesitating, she picked up her phone and ordered a pizza from the same place as last time. She felt a small rush of excitement—though she wouldn’t admit it—as she tapped ‘confirm order’ and set the phone aside.
Time passed slowly as she lounged on the couch, trying not to get her hopes up. He probably won’t be the one delivering it, she thought, trying to keep herself grounded. It could be anyone.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Her heart skipped a beat, and she jumped off the couch, quickly making her way to the door. She paused for a second, taking a deep breath before swinging it open.
There he was. Leehan, the blonde pizza delivery guy, stood there, holding the pizza box with the same charming smile that had left her flustered last time.
“Hey,” he said, his voice light and familiar. “Good to see you again.”
Her heart fluttered. She suddenly felt shy, her cheeks heating up as she met his gaze. Why am I acting like this? she thought, trying to compose herself. “H-hi,” she stammered, trying to smile back. “It’s good to see you too.”
He handed her the pizza, and she handed him the money. Their fingers brushed slightly, and she couldn’t help but feel a little spark. She quickly pulled her hand away, pretending to look at the pizza box so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.
“So, ordering pizza again, huh?” he teased lightly, his tone playful.
She laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah… I guess I’m just too lazy to cook.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” he said with a grin. “Pizza’s always a good choice.”
They stood there for a moment, the silence between them stretching, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. She wanted to say more, ask him something, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she just smiled, feeling her heart race in her chest.
“Well,” he said, breaking the silence, “I better get going. Enjoy your pizza.” He hesitated for a second, his eyes lingering on her before he turned to leave. “Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she replied softly, watching him as he walked down the hallway.
As the door closed behind her, she leaned against it, letting out a deep breath. She couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face as she headed back to the couch, pizza in hand. Something told her this wasn’t the last time they’d cross paths.
✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡
It had been a few days since Y/n had ordered pizza, and once again, her laziness got the best of her. She scrolled through her phone, contemplating what to eat, and in the end, her craving won. She ordered pizza from the same place, as she secretly hoped Leehan would be the one delivering it again.
As she waited, her mind wandered back to their last interaction. The way he smiled at her, how casual but sweet their conversation was. Her heart fluttered just thinking about it. Could he really be interested in me? she wondered, though she didn’t want to get ahead of herself.
A knock on the door jolted her out of her thoughts. Her heart raced with excitement, and she practically jumped off the couch. But as she approached the door, she noticed something odd—there were multiple hushed voices behind it. She raised an eyebrow in confusion, curiosity piqued. What’s going on?
She opened the door, and to her surprise, there stood Leehan holding a pizza box with a nervous smile on his face. Behind him, five of his coworkers—who clearly weren’t trying hard to hide their grins—stood bunched together like they were witnessing the most exciting thing to ever happen. The whole scene was unexpected, to say the least.
"Uh… hey," he said, laughing nervously. "So... this is a bit awkward."
Her eyes widened in surprise, still taking in the sight of him and his grinning entourage. "What's... going on?"
With a sheepish chuckle, Leehan lifted the pizza box and slowly opened it, revealing a pizza in the shape of a rose. The crust curled up in delicate petals, and she couldn’t help but smile at the creativity. It was adorable, and it was then that she realized this wasn’t just any pizza delivery.
"I, uh... I thought you were cute the first time I delivered to your place," he admitted, looking more and more embarrassed as he went on. "I was planning to ask you out tonight, but while I was making the pizza, these five idiots," he gestured toward his coworkers, "got nosy and insisted on coming along. So, here we are."
His friends gave an encouraging thumbs-up from behind him, clearly enjoying the whole situation.
She laughed, the tension in the air dissolving. "Are you serious? You made a pizza rose?" She couldn't stop the grin spreading across her face. "And brought your entire fan club with you?"
Leehan rubbed the back of his neck, his smile growing. "Yeah... I guess I did. But, uh, if you think it's too weird, you can just pretend this never happened."
Still smiling, she glanced at the pizza and then back at him, warmth spreading through her chest. "No, I don’t think it’s weird at all. In fact, it’s kind of cute."
He exhaled, clearly relieved by her response. "So... does that mean you'll accept my pizza rose and, uh, maybe my confession too?"
She giggled, the sweetness of the moment overwhelming her. "How could I say no to a pizza rose?"
His friends erupted into quiet cheers behind him, and he gave her a genuine smile, stepping closer to hand over the pizza box.
“Then... maybe we can go out sometime? Without the peanut gallery?” he asked, shooting a playful glare at his friends, who were still buzzing with excitement.
"I’d love that," she said, taking the pizza rose from him. "But seriously, next time, lose the backup dancers."
They both laughed, and as she stood there with the pizza in her hands and a flutter in her heart, she couldn’t help but feel like this was the start of something wonderful.
✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡
FLASHBACK 
The pizza place was bustling, as usual, with orders coming in left and right. Leehan was wiping down the counter when one of his friends and coworkers, Taesan, glanced at the screen and smirked.
"Yo, another order from Y/n’s place," Taesan said, casually pointing to the order ticket.
Immediately, Leehan’s head snapped up, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of her name. He’d been waiting for this. It was the same excitement he felt every time she ordered pizza, knowing he might get the chance to see her again. Before he could react, though, Jaehyun chimed in.
"I’ll take this one," Jaehyun said, stepping forward as if he was already claiming the delivery. "Might as well give her a little variety, y'know?"
Leehan immediately stood up from the counter, frowning. "Whoa, hold on. What do you mean you’ll take it?"
Jaehyun grinned, enjoying this far too much. "She sees your face all the time, Leehannie. Maybe she needs a break from the usual."
Leehan shot him a glare, stepping closer. "No way. I’m delivering this one."
Taesan leaned against the counter, clearly entertained. "What’s the big deal? It’s just a delivery."
Leehan felt the heat rising in his cheeks but kept his cool. "Yeah, but—"
Jaehyun cut him off with a smirk. "Oh, come on. Admit it, man. You just want to see that cute girl again. What’s her name? Y/n, right?"
The rest of their coworkers nearby started to perk up, sensing the brewing argument. Riwoo let out a low whistle, fully aware of the crush Leehan had developed on the pizza-loving girl.
Leehan crossed his arms. "And what if I do?"
Jaehyun’s smirk widened. "Then maybe I should deliver it and, y'know, ask her out for you. Save you the trouble."
"Oh, no way." Leehan narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn’t."
"Try me." Jaehyun grabbed the delivery bag, making a move toward the door.
Without thinking, Leehan lunged forward, blocking him. "Over my dead body."
Taesan, now thoroughly enjoying the show, chuckled. "Wow, this is really happening, huh? Fighting over a pizza delivery. I’ve seen it all now."
At this point, half the staff was watching, holding back laughter as the two friends faced off like it was the battle of the century.
"Seriously, man. I got this," Leehan insisted, his voice rising in intensity. "I’ve been delivering to her every time. She knows me. I can't break the streak."
Jaehyun folded his arms, tilting his head. "Or maybe you’re just chicken."
That did it.
"Chicken?!" Leehan exclaimed. "You know what? Fine. Let’s settle this." He motioned dramatically to the pizza oven. "Rock, paper, scissors. Best two out of three."
Jaehyun raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help grinning. "You’re on."
The crowd of employees grew, forming a loose circle around them, eager to witness the showdown.
"On three," Leehan said, both of them raising their fists.
"One, two, three—" they called out in unison.
The first round went to Leehan with rock over scissors. The second round went to Jaehyun with paper over rock. By the third round, the tension was palpable, coworkers holding their breath.
"One, two, three—"
Leehan threw scissors.
Jaehyun threw paper.
The room erupted in cheers and groans as Leehan pumped his fist in the air, triumphant. "Yes!"
Jaehyun let out a defeated sigh but couldn’t help laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. "Fine, fine. The pizza’s yours, Romeo."
Leehan grabbed the delivery bag with a grin, already imagining seeing Y/n again. "You bet it is."
As he headed toward the door, he heard Taesan call after him, "Good luck, man. Don’t screw it up!"
With a final glance over his shoulder, Leehan smirked. "I got this."
And with that, he walked out the door, ready for his next chance with the girl who unknowingly had him wrapped around her finger.
✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡
MASTERLIST
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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024
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thinkinginpen · 1 day
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Stop Me Now Part 2
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a/n: I had to write part two. I loved the first one so much pairing: dbf!logan x reader w/c: 4.1k warnings: age gap, arguing, angst, being kicked out summary: Your dad found out and it didn't end well. But you had a boyfriend now... you couldn't go back to Logan...
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It had been three months. Three months since you last saw Logan. Three months since you walked out the door, leaving behind a trail of heartache and memories.
The absence of the one you loved left an emptiness in your heart like a cold, lonely vacuum. Three months passed like a slow, endless dream, and the memories you had with Logan still lingered like sweet, bittersweet ghosts in your mind.
That feeling of love was evident in every detail. The way he protected you, showing his deep care and concern, and the way he was so passionate and engaged in arguments, even when you disagreed. It was more than just lust or casual interest, it was a deeper connection born from a genuine love.
Despite what Logan had said, the love you shared still felt real and true. Perhaps your father wouldn't have approved, and maybe it seemed wrong on the surface. But none of that changed the authenticity of the love and connection you had with Logan.
At the sound of your dad's knock, your thoughts were suddenly interrupted, and your heart leaped in your chest. "Logan's here," your dad said softly through the door.
You froze for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. The thought of seeing him again after these three months filled you with...
Anger.
You felt a wave of anger and frustration wash over you as you heard your dad's casual announcement. Why was Logan here now, after all these months of silence? Did he think he could just show up unannounced, as if nothing had happened between you?
As you took a deep breath to calm yourself, your mind was racing with conflicting emotions. Part of you wanted to see him, to hear his voice and feel his presence once again. But another part of you was still hurt and angry about the way things had ended.
"What does he want?" you asked your dad, trying to keep your tone even.
Your dad hesitated for a moment, sensing your confusion and frustration. "He is over for dinner honey," he responded. "What else? He missed his best friend's, AKA my, soup."
Logan was here for dinner? He was going to be sitting right across from you, just like old times? Of course, your dad never knew what happened between Logan and you so this didn't seem weird to him. To him nothing had changed. Logan was still supposedly "Uncle Wolvie" as far as he knew.
You felt a pang of guilt as you thought about your dad's ignorance. He had no idea how complex your relationship with Logan had been. And now, he was hosting him for a cozy dinner, completely oblivious to the truth.
"I don't know if I can do this," you muttered under your breath. Spending an evening with Logan, pretending everything was normal, was the last thing you wanted to do right now.
As you made your way into the dining room, you saw Logan sitting there, smiling at you, but you could see the thoughts running through his mind. He was thinking the same thing you were… This was going to be a long dinner.
Your dad, oblivious to the tension in the air, was happily setting the table and chatting away. "Ah, there she is," he exclaimed, as you entered the room. "Sit down honey, dinner's almost ready."
You forced a smile in response to your dad's cheerful greeting, trying to act like everything was fine. But as you took your seat across from Logan, you could feel the weight of the unspoken tension heavy in the room.
Logan's eyes met yours for a moment before he quickly looked away. The silence between you was deafening, broken only by your dad's cheerful chattering and the clinking of plates and silverware.
Your dad served the meal, and everyone dug in, but the conversation felt forced and stilted. You couldn't bring yourself to look at Logan, and he seemed equally uncomfortable, occasionally sneaking glances at you but mostly focusing on his plate.
As the meal progressed, your dad tried his best to keep the conversation light and cheerful, blissfully unaware of the awkwardness between you and Logan. The atmosphere at the table remained tense and strained, the elephant in the room impossible to ignore.
Logan looked up from his plate and tried to muster a smile. "Not much," he replied, avoiding your gaze. "Just keeping busy, you know."
Your dad nodded, taking another bite of his dinner. "You know, I was just thinking the other day," he continued, oblivious to the tension in the room. "It's been a while since you've come over for dinner."
Logan shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, I've been busy," he said. "But it's good to be here now."
"How about you," Logan nodded to you. "What's new, kid?"
"Not much," you replied, avoiding his gaze. The way he said "kid" felt like a dagger in your heart. It stung to hear him call you that, as if things were still the same between you.
"No exciting adventures?" Logan pressed on, trying to make conversation. But you could hear the strain in his voice, the effort it took him to keep his tone light and casual.
"Actually, I have been dating this one guy lately," you lied, forcing a casual tone. "He's been keeping things pretty interesting."
As soon as the words left your mouth, you saw Logan's expression change. A flicker of surprise and hurt passed over his face, and you took a twisted sense of satisfaction in knowing that you had gotten under his skin.
He tried to maintain his composure, but you could see the tension building in his shoulders. "Oh yeah?" he said, feigning indifference. "What's his name?"
You couldn't help but relish the chance to twist the knife further. "His name is Nate," you said, unable to keep the hint of mockery out of your voice. "He's very generous and sweet."
Logan's jaw clenched as he processed your words. The mention of another man, especially one who was supposedly generous and sweet, seemed to bother him. But he tried to hide his emotions, keeping his tone neutral.
"I see," he said, his voice betraying a hint of jealousy. "Sounds like quite the catch."
You couldn't help but smile at his obvious discomfort. Seeing him struggle with his emotions was a small victory, even if it was all based on a lie.
Your dad cleared the dishes and excused himself to do the dishes in the kitchen, leaving you and Logan alone at the table. The silence between you was deafening as you both sat there, each waiting for the other to speak first.
"I should have seen it fuckin coming."
Logan's sudden remark cut through the silence, his frustration and irritation seeping through his words. He had finally broken the stalemate, and his tone was a mix of anger and resignation.
"Please tell me some of it was fuckin real."
Logan's voice was rough with emotion, desperation laced with hurt. Your heart ached at the pain in his words, but you refused to show weakness. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, searching for answers.
"You told me to leave!" You responded angrily.
"You knew I wanted you," he shot back, his voice filled with raw emotion. "You knew how I felt about you. But you still walked out that damned door, and you never looked back."
"I didn't want to," he hissed. "You think I wanted to push you away? I was trying to protect you!"
"Protect me?" You could feel your anger rising, the pain of his words cutting through you. "Don't bullshit me! You were just scared."
"Damn right I was scared," he admitted, his voice suddenly softer. "Every day we were together was a knife in my gut. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't stay away from you. And if your dad finally found out… I knew I had to end it."
Your heart ached at his confession, but your anger and hurt still raged inside you. "And you expect me to believe that you actually cared? That it wasn't just some fling to you?"
"You know it wasn't," he replied, his voice low and fierce. "How can you even say that? I loved you, damn it. I still love you."
Your dad froze as he walked back into the dining room, realizing that he had walked in on a very charged conversation. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, and your dad's face was a mixture of shock and concern.
"Logan…" He said slowly, "Logan that is my daughter…"
Logan went pale, the weight of your dad's words hitting him like a ton of bricks. The guilt and embarrassment on his face were obvious, and he fidgeted in his seat, unable to look your dad in the eye.
"How long has this been going on?" your dad asked, his voice betraying a mix of anger and disappointment.
Logan interrupted you, his voice loud and furious. "It's not fucking over!"
Your dad's gaze flicked back and forth between you and Logan, his expression a mix of surprise and anger. The tension in the room was unbearable, and you knew that everything was about to blow up.
"You told me to leave! I fucking left!"
"Not out of choice!" Logan's voice was rising in volume, his frustration and anger reaching a boiling point.
"You walked out without a fight!" he yelled, his emotions getting the better of him. "You gave up on us… on me!"
Your dad held up his hand, trying to calm things down. "Whoa, whoa, let's all take a deep breath-"
"Don't you tell me to take a damn breath!" Logan snapped, his eyes still fixated on you. "You have no idea what you put me through!"
Your dad stepped closer, his voice firm. "Logan, you need to calm down. This is still my house, and I won't have you yelling at my daughter, or at me. Now take a breath and talk to me like a grown-ass man."
"What are you gonna do about it?" Logan shot back, his voice hard and challenging. "Kick my ass? Go ahead and try it."
Your dad clenched his fists, clearly struggling to control his own temper. He was seething with anger, his eyes fixed on Logan. "Logan, you better shut that damn mouth-"
But Logan was beyond rationality. "Or what?" he taunted, his voice full of bravado. "You'll do what? You gonna hit me? Go ahead. I dare you."
"Don't talk to my dad like that Logan! You caused this!"
"I caused this?" Logan exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief and hurt. "You think this is all my fault? You're not innocent in this either!"
"I never said I was," you snapped. "But I'm not the one who started this whole mess in the first place."
"You wanted it just as much as I did!" Logan countered heatedly. "Don't sit there and act like you were some innocent victim! I didn't rape you!"
Your dad flinched at Logan's words, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going. "Watch your language," he warned, his voice firm.
But Logan was too far gone to listen. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said mockingly. "Should I censor myself for your precious ears? You have no idea what we've been through!"
"Logan stop!"
He ignored you, his anger and hurt fueling his words. "No, I won't stop!" he shouted. "You don't get to act like I'm the bad guy here! You were just as responsible as I was, if not more! I didn't force you into anything! I remember everything! Every sound you made! Every laugh! Every smile!"
Your heart ached as he revealed the depth of his feelings, but you tried to push past the pain. "That doesn't change the fact that you ended it!" you retorted, your voice breaking.
"I had to!" he exclaimed, his voice ragged. "Don't you think I wanted you? I'm hundreds of years older than you! Your dad would have killed me if he found out!"
"I know now Logan. Get out."
Your dad's voice was firm, his tone leaving no room for argument. Logan's eyes flicked between the two of you, his anger and frustration warring with his conflicted feelings. He knew he was outnumbered and out of options. With a clenched jaw, he pushed back from the table and stood up.
For a moment, the room was eerily silent. All you could hear was the sound of your dad's heavy breathing. You could feel his disappointment and anger practically radiating off of him.
Finally, your dad spoke, his voice low and controlled. "We need to talk."
Your heart sank at his words. You knew this conversation was not going to be easy. "Okay," you whispered, your voice trembling.
Your dad led you to the couch and sat down heavily. He took a deep breath before speaking. "What the hell are the two of you thinking?" he started, his voice carefully measured.
"I can't even begin to wrap my head around this," he continued, shaking his head in disbelief. "How long has this been going on?"
You couldn't meet his gaze as you answered. "A few months," you mumbled, feeling shame burn in your gut. "But we stopped."
Your dad's eyes widened in shock, his anger and disappointment clear. "A few months?" he repeated, his voice tight. "And you didn't think to tell me? How could you keep something like this a secret?"
You fidgeted under his scrutiny, feeling like a child being scolded. "I… I don't know," you mumbled, your voice small. "I was scared. I knew you would be mad."
"Damn right I'm mad!" your dad exclaimed, his voice rising. "I have every right to be. You've been lying to me, hiding something huge, and with a man old enough to be your father!"
"It's not just that," he continued, his anger still palpable. "Logan. Of all people, Logan. He's like a brother to me, and he was my closest friend… And you two…. How could you?"
You flinched under the weight of his disappointment. You knew you had messed up, and there was no way to make it right. "We… We can't help who we fall in love with," you mumbled, the words feeling hollow.
Your dad let out a humorless bark of laughter. "Love? This isn't love," he spat, his voice filled with anger and disbelief. "This is a mess. A huge, messy, wrong-on-so-many-levels mess. And you two dragged me right into it. It's lust."
Your eyes stung with tears as his words sunk in. "It's not just that," you protested, your voice shaky. "We care about each other-"
"Care about each other?" Your dad's voice was dripping with disbelief. "You don't know the meaning of care. Not at your age. This is just lust, plain and simple. Logan knows better. He should have had the sense to pull away before it went too far."
Your heart ached at his words. You knew he was right that Logan should have known better, but you couldn't help how you felt. "I can't just stop feeling the way I do," you muttered, your voice cracking. "I love him."
"You don't even know what love is," your dad retorted, his voice hard. "You're just caught up in the excitement of sneaking around, of doing something forbidden. It's all a game to you, a thrill. How did it start?"
You winced at his words, knowing deep down that he was partially right. You didn't know what love was. Not really. "It just… happened," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. "When he was over… and you left for work… and you told him to take care of me… We…"
"You what?" your dad pressed fiercely, his voice filled with disbelief. "When I left you alone with Logan?"
"You what?" your dad pressed fiercely, his voice filled with disbelief. "When I left you alone with Logan?"
Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. "We… we ended up on the couch," you admitted, the words coming out in a rush. "And one thing led to another… and we just… kept meeting up… when we could."
Your dad let out a weary sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. "So you've been sneaking around right under my nose," he said, his voice weary now. "While I trusted you. While I trusted him."
"I'm sorry," you mumbled, feeling the shame and guilt well up inside you. "I know I messed up, but I can't help how I feel. I love him. I have for a long time-"
Your dad's eyes narrowed at your words. "You have a boyfriend dammit!"
"I know!" you exclaimed, tears welling up in your eyes. "But it doesn't change how I feel about Logan. It doesn't change the fact that I love him!"
"You don't even know what love is," your dad repeated, his voice firm. "You're just a kid. You're hormonal. You're impressionable. You're not thinking straight."
"I am!" you protested, tears streaming down your face now. "I do know what love is. I know what I feel for Logan. You can't tell me that my feelings aren't real just because I'm young-"
"I can and I will," your dad shot back. "You don't know the first thing about love. You're just infatuated. It's a crush. It will pass. And when it does, you'll realize how foolish this all was. But in the meantime get out!"
Your heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces. "What?" you whimpered, your voice trembling. "You're kicking me out?"
"Damn right I am!" your dad retorted, his voice hard. "You broke my trust. You went behind my back. You thought you could deceive me and sneak around without any consequences. Well, now you're going to face the music. Pack a bag."
Fresh tears streamed down your face as you realized he was serious. You stumbled to your feet and rushed to your room, grabbing a bag and throwing clothes into it, your mind racing. This couldn't be happening.
Your mind was a whirlwind of confused and conflicting emotions as you packed. Anguish, guilt, hurt, anger, and fear all vied for dominance. You could hear your dad’s voice drifting in from the living room, a mixture of anger and disappointment. As you shoved the last of your belongings into your bag, you tried to collect yourself, wiping your tears on your sleeve.
With a final glance around your room, you took a deep breath and walked back into the living room, your heart in your throat. Your dad looked up as you entered. His expression was unreadable, but his jaw was set and his eyes were like steel.
"Are you packed?" he asked gruffly, his voice betraying none of the emotion that must have been swirling within him too.
You nodded, unable to speak for fear of bursting into tears again. Your dad’s eyes flicked over your bag, then back to your face. The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable.
Finally, your dad let out a heavy sigh. "Well, get going then," he said, his voice as neutral as he could manage.
The words hit you like a punch to the gut, causing fresh tears to spill down your cheeks. "But… But where am I supposed to go?" you managed to croak out, your voice betraying your fear and confusion.
Your dad's expression softened just a fraction. "That's not my problem," he said, his voice still tense. "You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. I can't have you under my roof when you've been deceiving me like this."
It felt like being stabbed in the heart. You had hoped that, despite his anger and disappointment, he would still have some compassion for you. But his words left no room for doubt. You were being pushed out. "You don’t care what happens to me?" you whispered, your voice small and hurt.
Your dad's face tightened, the lines in his forehead deepening. "Don't put words in my mouth," he snapped. "Of course I care about what happens to you. I’m your dad. But I can't condone what you've done. You've betrayed my trust and disobeyed my rules. You need to learn that actions have consequences."
You nodded, understanding the message. Your tears continued to fall silently as the full weight of your actions crashed down on you. You had crossed a line, and now you were being sent away because of it.
"Go stay with Logan," your dad said, his voice flat. "You like him so much, maybe he can take care of you for a while. See how long your little fantasy world lasts out in the real world."
Shock and disbelief flashed through you at his words. "What?" you exclaimed, your voice rising. "You're sending me to him? After everything that's happened? You can't be serious!"
"No, I'm not joking," your dad said sternly. "You want Logan so badly? Go to him. Let him deal with you for a while. See how he likes having to be responsible for a spoiled, disobedient teenager who has no concept of the real world."
Your heart felt like it was being torn in half. You had never thought it would come to this. "I… I can't stay with him," you protested, your voice thick with tears. "I don't think he even wants me there! And I have a boyfriend!"
Your dad's eyes darkened at the mention of your boyfriend. "You should have thought about that before you started sneaking around behind my back," he snapped. "And Logan can deal with it. He's a big boy. Maybe it's time for him to put his money where his mouth is."
You felt numb as the truth of his words hit you. There was no point trying to argue. You knew your dad had made up his mind. "Fine," you mumbled, your voice hollow. "I'll go."
With that you walked out. It was late and cold. You pulled out your phone and did something you thought you never would again.
"Can you come get me?"
There was a long pause as you waited anxiously, the cold night air stinging your skin. You shivered and hugged your bag closer to your chest, feeling completely alone. Then, finally, your phone buzzed with a reply.
Lo: "Where are you?"
The short message was all that was sent, but it was enough.
You sent him your location and then waited, teeth chattering as the cold seeped into your bones. It felt like an eternity until a familiar car pulled up next to you, the interior warm and inviting.
You opened the door and quickly slid into the passenger seat, the heat of the car like a balm to your freezing body. You avoided looking at the man at the wheel, but you could feel the tension thick in the air.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence as the car pulled away from the curb. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, your chest aching with a strange mixture of guilt, shame, and a small flicker of… something else.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the car pulled into a quiet, residential street, coming to a stop in front of a small house. The engine fell silent, but neither of you made a move to get out. You glanced at him, the light of the street lamp casting a dim glow over his features.
He was staring straight ahead, his hands clenching the steering wheel. His jaw was set and his expression solemn. The line of his shoulders was tense, his body taut like a coil ready to spring. It was clear that he had a lot he wanted to say, but was holding himself back.
The silence between you was thick and charged. He finally turned his gaze from the front windshield to look at you, his eyes dark and intense. "We need to talk," he said, his voice soft but firm.
A mixture of fear and anticipation fluttered in your stomach, the weight of his words settling heavily on your shoulders. "Okay," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the rapid pounding of your heart.
He pushed open the driver's side door, gesturing for you to follow. You got out of the car, the cold air hitting you like a slap in the face. You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself as you followed him up the path to his front door.
He unlocked the door, holding it open for you. You stepped into the warm, cozy interior, feeling a mixture of relief and trepidation. The house was small, but comfortable, and you could see glimpses of his life in every corner. Photos on the walls, books on the shelves, a jacket slung over the back of a chair.
He closed the door behind you and then leaned against it, his body blocking the only exit. He didn't say anything, just watched you, his eyes roaming over your face and body as if trying to figure you out.
"Sit."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Part 1 Part 2
🏷️: @fablehaven-rulez
110 notes · View notes
atzloverr · 2 days
Text
Ateez as yanderes - how they fell for you
!!!TW: Yandere!!!
warnings: includes yandere themes, kidnapping, non-consensual touching, drugging, stalking, female reader, (more warnings for the individual scenarios)
yes they do vary in length but I kinda just write them as i go, it has nothing to do with how much i “like” them
and also, I could write any other scenario where they’re completely different from this, I just thought this would be fun
masterlist
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Hongjoong
cw: kidnapping, jealousy, non-con touching, college/school au
The most jealous of them all
Can’t even stand the thought of you talking to let alone looking at anyone other than him
Gets really scary when he’s angry, but tried his best to be patient when you don’t listen
Makes sure you only see him. Only touch him. Only love him. And if you refuse to do so, expect to be taught a lesson you will never even dare to forget.
Don’t worry though, he’ll gently kiss your tears away and carefully treat your wounds afterwards.
It all started when he saw you in class one day, not having really thought about you before, but he noticed how pretty you really were.
When he was grouped up with you for a project, he noticed just how kind and thoughtful you were, his little interest in you blooming into something stronger.
He didn’t know why yet, but seeing other guys at school approach you made his blood boil.
You were too good for those unworthy scum bags. Too pure. Too perfect. (He made sure to take care of them later)
Hongjoong felt himself becoming more and more obsessed with you, not a single day passing without the thought of you invading his mind.
What made Hongjoong snap was when a guy came up to you, touching you so familiarly and with such carelessness.
Seeing you laugh at this guy’s jokes, lightly touch his arm or even just bless him with your presence, made Hongjoong realize something
You needed to be protected. Your beauty needed to be savored, your skin never touched by other guys.
The only one worthy of you, was Hongjoong.
He knew what you really needed, who you really were.
He had made sure to learn all about you before finally making you his once and for all.
The two of you were meant to be together forever, and Hongjoong would never let anyone else come in between the two of you.
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Seonghwa
cw: kidnapping, bondage, stalking, blackmailing, masturbation, Seonghwa is a creep in this lol, they work at the same workplace
Seonghwa is a quiet and attentive type of yandere
Would secretly admire you from a distance for years, before even gaining the courage to speak to you
He couldn’t help but think of you whenever he sees something cute or couple-like, secretly dreaming of a future shared with you.
As much as he wishes he could just approach you, he’s so scared of you disliking him in any way
And even though he seems like a sweetheart, you wouldn’t think the same if you caught him digging in your drawers, trying to find a new clothing item to bring home with him
One day, he finally approached you at work, even though you worked in completely different departments of the company.
Your eyes widened when he informed you that one of your coworkers had been fired, for acting inappropriately in the workplace.
You were really shocked, remembering how friendly he was, always telling you good morning and good bye.
Of course, he hadn’t actually done anything wrong, but Seonghwa figured the man was being way too friendly with you, almost flirting with you.
No, Seonghwa couldn’t have that, so he took matters into his own hands, blackmailing his way into getting the douchebag fired.
That man wouldn’t go near you again, Seonghwa made sure of it.
You thanked Seonghwa for the information, and got back to your own work.
You didn’t notice the way the dark haired male practically ran to the bathroom after you brief encounter, needing some type of release after finally doing what he had been wanted to do for years.
He pumped his hard cock, thinking about the way you looked at him. He had never been that close to you, he had never seen you look up into his eyes like that.
He realized that this couldn’t be it. He had to interact with you again. He couldn’t have it any other way.
After a few months had passed, you found yourself growing fond of your coworker, talking to him at work almost every day, going out to have lunch or simply meeting up to discuss work.
You didn’t think much of it, but Seonghwa sure did.
He had to admit he was proud of himself, having gotten so close to you in such a short time. He had to face his fear of approaching you, and when he did, it was the best decision of his life.
He was happy with his accomplishments, but couldn’t help but crave for more. It was so frustrating, having to act as if he barely knew you, when he in fact knew next to everything about you and your life
He knew exactly what your underwear smelled like that day when he first talked to you, and what you watched on your TV that same night.
As he got closer to you, he also got more bold with his stalking.
He started spending nights in your room, watching you closely as your chest rose and fell. He even got so far as to cuddling up to you when you were asleep, making sure you wouldn’t wake up.
But one night, you did.
Seonghwa got a little caught up in the moment as he cuddled you, moving a tad bit too much for it to go unnoticed. He didn’t notice when you slowly stirred awake, but suddenly, you let out a scream of terror at the feeling of someone in your bed.
Your wide eyes met each others, and just as you were about to question him, he put a hand over your mouth, making you squirm in panic
Seonghwa didn’t know what to do. Would this ruin everything? He couldn’t even think, but he was soon on top of you, his panicked voice trying to get you to calm down.
He could only think of one solution, that wouldn’t get him in any sort of trouble.
So here you were now, tied up in Seonghwa’s bed, a gag in your mouth, choking down all your desperate screams.
The man you once thought of as a sweet coworker, just laid next to you, hands grazing your arm in an attempt to comfort you in your time of horror.
Tomorrow, he knew what he would do.
He just hoped that your boss wouldn’t be too sad about the news of your… accident.
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Yunho
cw: possessive behavior, slut shaming, ripping clothes, I’m sorry Yunho
Yunho can still find himself reminiscing about the old times, back when you first met.
Oh, he remembers it like it was yesterday, when he saw that beautiful smile of yours for the first time.
Yunho’s friend had a birthday dinner, and when they were going over the invitations, Yunho heard a foreign name pop up.
“Y/n? Who’s that?” Yunho asked curiously, trying to search for your name in his mind, but finding nothing.
“Oh, she’s a new friend from work! I’m sure you’ll like her! She’s super friendly!” his friend explained.
Yunho never expected to feel this way when he saw you.
Unfortunately for him, he showed up a little late to the dinner due to traffic, but when he arrived his eyes immediately found yours.
He didn’t believe in ‘love at first sight’, but if there was something like it, he was sure this was how it felt.
Throughout the night, he found himself drawn to you in some special way, your personalities seeming to go hand in hand. You laughed at his jokes, he laughed at yours.
After the dinner, Yunho had made one thing clear to himself.
You needed to become his. As soon as possible. So when you messaged his number that he had given you at the dinner, he found himself lighting up in joy and excitement.
You were going on a date with him.
Oh, he just couldn’t wait, to see you again, and just get to know you! He hadn’t been this interested in someone so quickly for a long time.
It didn’t take long before you and Yunho were dating. He made sure to take you out again only a few days after your first date, feeling eager to know more about you.
Everything felt perfect in your newly announced relationship.
But not for Yunho.
He couldn’t suppress it anymore. He felt so incredibly protective over you, it physically irked him to let you leave him for just a second.
As much as he tried to let you go out and have fun, it just felt so wrong. He didn’t want to be an overprotective boyfriend, but he didn’t view this as being overprotective. This felt like the bare minimum.
One night, when you got dressed to go to a friend’s party, Yunho couldn’t stop himself.
“Are you really going to dress like that?” he spat at you, almost sounding offended.
You gasped at his comment. “What is that supposed to mean?” you questioned, feeling your blood already boiling at his question. Oh, how you hated when guys acted like this.
“I mean, are you going to try to impress someone else?” he asked, still wearing that scowl on his face. You scoffed.
“I’m not having this conversation—“
“Yes you are,” Yunho raised his voice. Your eyes widened in surprise. He had seemed so sweet until now. This was a whole new version of him. One that you didn’t enjoy.
He stepped his large body in front of yours in the hallway of your apartment, pinning you against the wall.
“You have to understand,” he started, his eyes looking dark and scary. “That you’re my girlfriend now, and you can’t go around dressed like a slut anymore.”
You fought the urge to slap him across the face, and instead just barked back at him, “Excuse me!? Do you think you own me or something?”
Yunho squinted slightly.
“You know what, yes, I do.”
You were about to laugh at him, thinking that this was some sort of joke, but when he suddenly picked you up bridal style and harshly threw you down on the bed, you couldn’t mutter a single sound.
“Do you know what types of men will be there?” he asked, his hands moving down to the hem of your dress.
“How do you know that they won’t just,” he started, his hands ripping the fabric of the dress. “Touch your skin? This dress is so short, it won’t exactly be hard for them!” he argued.
You yelled at him to stop, but his hands continued tearing your dress into shreds.
You felt tears spilling out of your eyes, sobs escaping you as he exposed you in your underwear.
“You’re mine, do you understand!?” he asked, almost screaming at you.
You flinched at his anger, but forced a nod. Something changed in his gaze, making it softer once again.
“Good,” he said, his head resting on your bare stomach.
“I think you’ll stay home for tonight, hm?” he almost whispered, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
You had a rough few days ahead of you.
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Yeosang
cw: school/college au, kidnapping, non-con touching, yeosang is delusional
His love for you started as a harmless crush.
Seeing you in the corridor and finding you pretty, or just hearing your voice as you raised your hand in class made him feel shy and giggly.
It went by so quickly, and suddenly this little crush had turned into something much stronger.
He soon noticed how big of an impact you had on his life
You were the only thing on his mind every single day, and it came to a point where he couldn’t stand not seeing you, even for just a day.
He wanted to spend every waking moment with you, making sure you and him can get to know each other better, and become closer to each other.
He even started envisioning a future with you, kids and all.
Even though you had only had some brief interactions with the man, he sure valued those moments, still thinking about your sweet laugh and beautiful smile.
He knew what he had to do, scared he would go crazy if he didn’t.
One day after school, he innocently invited you over for tea, making sure you felt comfortable in his home, before drugging you and keeping you there for as long as he sees fit (probably forever)
You couldn’t understand any of it, barely even remembering speaking to the boy, but when you acted confused by his actions, he only grew angrier
“Don’t you remember that time? When you dropped your book and- and I helped you pick it up!?” he asked furiously. Your eyes widened at his words.
He was surely crazy.
Although he kidnapped you, he still felt shy around you at times, biting his lip and blushing slightly when even being in your presence
He’ll shyly cuddle up to you when you fall asleep, finally seeing you so peaceful and quiet, just how he likes you
When you scream at him, begging him to let you out, he’ll just treat it like a tantrum, putting you in ‘timeout’
He really tries to explain his feelings to you, only thinking that it’s rational for him to protect you
He “only does it out of love” and gets so frustrated when you can’t understand that.
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San
cw: reader likes to party, reader gets drunk, kidnapping, stalking, jealousy, possessive behavior
You caught his eye in a bar one night, wearing a tight dress, showing off your body in a way that turned everyone’s eyes towards you
San was no exception, his gaze plastered on you the entire night, as you got more and more drunk
He had to keep an eye on you, making sure that no creep would try to make a move on you or hand you a spiked drink
When the end of the night came, none of your friends were with you anymore, so you were far from safe on your own
San approached you, steadying you with his strong arms, causing you to lean on his frame
He could tell you were confused, and decided to introduce himslef
“My name is San, what’s your name?” he asked, trying to find your unfocused gaze
You muttered out your name, your breath reeking of alcohol.
San smiled kindly, and sat you down on a barstool, still keeping his steady arms around you
“You want me to help you get home?” he asked, his kind eyes making you feel an immediate sense of comfort.
“Yes please,” you muttered out.
As he gave you a piggyback ride home, you slurred out a small ‘thank you’.
San couldn’t hold his smile at your cute behavior, looking at your face as you almost fell asleep at his shoulder
Oh how things were changed now.
Ever since that night, San had found himself missing you, even though you only met when you were drunk
He made sure to give you his number, telling you to call him if you needed anything, however, you hadn’t reached out again.
San felt himself getting angrier by every moment. Didn’t you value that night you had together? I mean, he took you home and took care of you when you literally couldn’t even walk.
He knew you meant no harm though, no, his little sweetheart would never try to hurt his feelings.
San decided that he couldn’t handle thinking about you like this anymore, so one night, he decided to find where you were, using different means to find out what you were going to be doing this weekend.
He wasn’t surprised that you were going to another party, so he decided to get himself invited as well.
What he never expected, was to see you with some dude, making out in the corner of a room as if you had no shame
His eye twitched in rage, but he knew he had to be patient.
When the party was finally over, you were of course, drunk again, and he decided that this was the perfect time to make his move.
“H-hey, have we met?” you laughed, almost falling into his arms as you approached him.
San only smirked.
“Come with me and I’ll tell you,” he smiled. If this had been anyone else, you would never had agreed to it, but something in you told you to trust this man.
You found yourself leaning against a tree, no other people in sight, except for the handsome man standing before you.
“Tell me,” you commanded, your words still slurring together.
“Oh don’t worry, I will,” he said, before you felt a harsh pain in your head, and you fell down to the ground.
You couldn’t scream, you could only slowly fade away into unconsciousness as the man slowly picked you up.
Plastering a few kisses to your head, he smiled, way to innocently for what he was doing.
“Finally I can take you home, my little bunny.”
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Mingi
cw: implied kidnapping, best friends to (lovers), possessive behavior, drugging, jealousy
Mingi had been your best friend ever since back in high school
You still remember how he would beg you to hang out after school, telling you that you were going to ‘study’, just so lure you in to a mario kart tournament
You were so thankful to have such a sweet friend by your side, always supporting you when you needed it the most, and serving as a pillar in your life when everything else seemed to go downhill
Mingi had made sure that’s what you viewed him as. The reliable friend who would never fail you.
He had to make sure you loved and trusted him more than anyone else
At first, he thought it was just a friendly affection he held towards you. When he felt his fists clench in anger when you talked to others, he just thought of it as a will to protect you, his friend
But now he was sure it was more than that.
During all of these years, he watched as boy after boy failed you. He couldn’t help but feel a small wave of excitement when you came crying in his arms, telling him that you got failed again.
As much as he hated seeing you so sad, he just loved that you always seemed to come crawling back to him.
Well, that was, until now.
Mingi watched carefully through your window, making sure his loud breaths of anger weren’t heard by you and your new ‘boyfriend’.
As much as he loved hearing your moans, he couldn’t stand them when it was because of some other dude.
The only ones valuable enough to touch your sweet body was you and him. Anyone else pleasuring you deserved hell.
So when Mingi heard you moan out this new guy’s name in ecstasy, he felt sick to his stomach.
He waited and waited for this guy to show his true colors, and break up with you.
Mingi hadn’t seen it yet, but he was sure this guy had a bad side too. Even if he was kind to you, Mingi knew that this guy wasn’t the one.
Because Mingi was the one.
He had to make sure he was, even if it would take time for you to realize it.
Seriously, how dense were you? Mingi thought. How couldn’t you notice his love towards you? Did all those tender moments of affection mean nothing to you?
One night, Mingi decided that you had spent enough time with your boyfriend. This had to end, before it escalated into something bigger. He didn’t even want to think about you two moving in together, getting a dog, having kids…
No! He had to do something about it. He wanted to try talking about it with you first, so when you came over to spend the night, Mingi decided to ask you about it.
“Y/n, this new guy, he…” Mingi started, avoiding your gaze. “New? We’ve been dating for months!” you laughed. “But yeah, what about him?”
Mingi felt so tingly when you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes, so he couldn’t even meet them, scared that he might let out some inappropriate noise.
“Well, is he really the one?” he asked, looking down to the floor.
You stared dumbfounded at him, but continued to play it off as mere curiosity from your friend.
“Yeah, I think he might be.”
You had to admit Mingi was acting strange. His gaze was unfocused, as he grumbled something incoherent.
You dismissed the conversation, and swiftly changed the subject.
“So, how’s it going for Yunho? I heard he got a new job?…”
Mingi couldn’t focus on your words right now, as much as he wanted to hear your beautiful voice.
You were clearly serious about this guy, so talking you out of it wouldn’t work. You trusted your boyfriend way too much, and raising your suspicions would take way too long.
He had to go through with plan B, as much as he hated it.
You lay down next to Mingi on the couch, carelessly sipping your drink. You had decided to put on a movie, and as much as you loved this movie, you couldn’t help but feel sleepy already.
You found yourself slowly dozing off on Mingi’s shoulder, your body feeling weak suddenly.
You tried to form words, but felt too tired to even speak. You barely even noticed as Mingi’s strong arms swiftly picked you up.
He finally met your gaze, after what had felt like an eternity. To your surprise, his expression showed nothing but sadness.
“I’m sorry Y/n,” he said, walking into his bedroom. “But it’s for the best.”
After hearing the distinct sound of the door closing and locking, you found yourself lulled into a deep slumber, tucked under Mingi’s soft sheets, his arms cradling your body.
When you were finally fast asleep, Mingi took the opportunity, and told you the three sacred words he had been holding back from you for all these years.
“I love you.”
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Wooyoung
cw: cheating, stalking, taking photos without consent, implied kidnapping, manipulation, masturbation
Wooyoung will get what he wants, no matter the cost
Even if that means ruining years of friendship, and breaking your heart in the process, he had to do the necessary things to get you
Breaking your heart wouldn’t even be the hardest part, after all, he wouldn’t mind breaking you completely, just so he could build you anew.
Wooyoung and his best friend were inseparable, it was well known for everyone they knew
Being childhood best friends, Wooyoung was sure nothing could ever come in between their bond
That was, until you entered the picture
Wooyoung was more than excited to hear that his friend had gotten a new girlfriend, and he couldn’t wait to meet the girl, having heard such good things about her
His jaw dropped when his gaze met your form
You were stunning
He had to raise his eyebrows at his best friend, as if saying ‘damn, how did you manage to get that?’
As you politely shook his hand and introduced yourself, Wooyoung couldn’t help but notice something
You were way too good for his best friend
Even though they were good friends, he couldn’t deny that this guy wasn’t the nicest to girls, looking back at his past girlfriends, who basically all ended up cheated on by him.
Although his relationships usually ended within the first few weeks, two months had now passed since Wooyoung’s friend met you.
It had gone unnoticed by you, but for these two months, Wooyoung had gotten incredibly smitten by you
He found himself looking forward to seeing you, and would use any excuse possible to get you alone with him
You were just so much better off without his friend.
Without that guy, you could be your interesting and authentic self without being held back.
As smart as you were, Wooyoung knew you weren’t that bright. You didn’t even notice when he snuck his phone under the table to take a quick snap into your skirt, or when he always managed to end up in weird positions with you when he “fell asleep.”
At night, Wooyoung would desperately hump into a pillow while listening to an audio of your voice, imagining you laying right beneath him.
He couldn’t take it anymore, he had waited long enough.
Luckily, he knew exactly how he would manage to pull this off.
He happened to know his best friend a little too well.
One night, Wooyoung invited you two to a party as plus twos, begging you to go, telling you just how fun it was going to be.
You fell for his cute little smile as he blinked at you, asking you to pleeease come with him.
He smirked when you finally said yes, slowly making his way to his end goal.
He had to execute this perfectly, making sure he would be portrayed as the hero, and your boyfriend as the villain.
Well at the party, you found yourself sitting in a corner of the room, laughing and dancing to the music. Wooyoung had for some reason insisted you were going to hang out at that specific spot for a while.
After a little while, Wooyoung snaked a hand around your waist, telling you to go have a drink with him.
He gave you and your boyfriend that classic innocent smile, feeding onto the illusion that he was someone with no ill intent whatsoever.
When you took off, Wooyoung quickly fished out his phone from his pocket, sending a message.
Wooyoung made it so that he could still keep an eye on your boyfriend, while you stood opposite from him, not having any idea of what was happening behind you.
While you two chatted away, your tipsy state making you talkative, Wooyoung watched as the girl slowly approached your boyfriend
He studied the way she slowly sat down on your boyfriend’s lap, who had already managed to get way too drunk
Right when he could tell she was about to make her move, he smiled at you.
“Let’s go back to your boyfriend, shall we?”
As you turned around, Wooyoung’s arm still holding your waist, you couldn’t help but gasp in surprise
Were you really seeing things clearly?
As you slowly walked closer to them, you realized that this was no illusion
There your boyfriend sat, some girl on top of him, making out with him passionately, his hands roaming her barely dressed body
Your legs suddenly felt weak, but Wooyoung kept you on your feet
“Oh my god, Y/n,” Wooyoung breathed out sadly, holding you closer. “I’m so sorry…”
You felt tears stream down your cheeks as you stepped even closer to the two, seeing the way her hands guided his as she practically grind on his lap.
You didn’t want to believe your eyes, but you had to.
Suddenly, your body was turned around, and you were dragged out of the room. In what felt like a matter of seconds, you were outside, Wooyoung’s arms wrapped tightly around your shivering body
You sobbed quietly into the fabric of his jacket, as his hand found your hair.
“Shh it’s okay Y/n,” he comforted, slowly rocking you back and forth. “How about you sleep at my place tonight, hm?”
You nodded violently into his shoulder, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.
What you never saw, was the way Wooyoung smiled in satisfaction, sending the girl a last message.
“You can back off from him now, I’ll pay you tomorrow.”
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Jongho
cw: implied kidnapping, stalking, non-con kissing, mentions of weight loss, obsessive behavior
The first time Jonho saw you was at an art gallery, slowly inspecting the art pieces as you walked by them
As much as he wanted to keep his eyes on the art, you were the only thing he could keep his attention on
You stood there in your long dress, modest but oh so tempting, staring at the painting before you in a lonesome awe
He found himself being drawn to you. It was something about your energy.
“What do you think?” he asked in a low voice, walking up to you, still keeping you at a respectful distance, but close enough to make the conversation private.
“It’s interesting. The artist has done a really great job at portraying the beauty in the horror of her expression,” you said, eyes not wavering from the painting in front of you.
The unknown man next to you just hummed in agreement, but in reality, he wasn’t even looking at the painting. He had seen it earlier, so he knew exactly what you meant.
The painting depicted a woman, watching in terror as an unknown creature tries to attack her. Amidst of the scenery, there is a beauty, that not everyone could understand.
You understood exactly what was intended in the piece, making Jongho feel nothing but excitement bubble up inside of him.
“What’s your name?” you asked, averting your gaze towards the man. His eyes widened slightly before he answered.
“Choi Jongho,” he answered, smiling warmly at you.
You introduced yourself as well, bowing slightly.
After about an hour, you and Jongho had been chatting away about the various art pieces in the gallery, discussing your interpretations.
You were impressed at Jongho’s open minded approach, making you feel comfortable when you didn’t even know the man.
Having to say goodbye felt sad to you, and as much as you wanted to ask him for his number, you just couldn’t find the courage.
Ever since you parted that day, you had been the only thing on the man’s mind. He tried to recall every single word you said about each peace, wanting to imagine your voice uttering the words of pure intellect and interest.
When going to other galleries, Jongho always hoped to see you once again, but he never found you.
He knew it was wrong, but he wanted to know what you were up to. Were you avoiding him? Or did you simple lose interest in art? No, that couldn’t be. The way you spoke so fondly about it showed that art meant a lot to you.
Jongho had to find out. So he did the necessary thing to do so.
He simply used his computer skills to find out more about you. He had your name, so with enough time and effort, he would surely find you.
And indeed, he did find you.
When he saw your picture pop up on his computer screen, he felt a jolt of joy.
He found out everything he needed to know, and the next day, he was making a phone call to have flowers delivered to your door.
He couldn’t wait to see your reaction to them, waiting patiently at his hiding spot.
When your form finally came into view, Jongho felt himself stiffen up.
You didn’t look like yourself.
You had clearly lost weight, looking pale and tired. Your eyes were barely even opened as you inspected the bouquet of flowers.
You picked them up, and then quickly entered your apartment again, quickly closing the door
Jongho was at a loss for words.
This wasn’t how he remembered you. You weren’t this lifeless last time. You hadn’t looked so empty of emotion, so distant.
With your recent appearance, you now invaded Jongho’s mind more than ever before.
What had happened to you since last time? Jongho had to find out.
After hours of digging, he still couldn’t find anything. No traumatic past events. No dead family member. Nothing.
After sending you another bouquet, once again watching you from his hiding spot, he couldn’t bare it anymore.
Seeing you like this physically hurt him. He felt his heart clench at the mere sight of your weak self, and he needed to take care of things.
So the third time he sent you flowers, he decided to give them to you personally.
He breathed in and out heavily, waiting for you to appear at the door. It took you way too long for his liking to finally open the door, revealing your even more malnourished self, dressed in pajamas even though it was midday.
“Jongho?” your voice sounded out, your eyes widened slightly.
He smiled fondly at your memory of his name. So you did remember the meeting you had.
“Hello, Y/n,” he greeted, handing you the flowers. You blinked at the gesture.
“Are you the one who—“ you started, but Jongho had other plans.
“Let’s go inside, shall we?” he asked.
Your eyebrows furrowed when he invited himself in, stepping past you, and into your chaos of a home.
You tried to protest, but he just gave you a stern look. You were so confused at his attitude. What happened to that respectful man you had met at the gallery?
“What’s going on? You look tired, Y/n,” Jongho asked, voice laced with concern.
You gasped slightly at his familiarity, almost feeling insulted by the sudden question.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you what’s going on? How did you find out where i live? And what are you doing here in the first place?” you raised your voice, pointing at him.
The look in his eyes remained unchanged, a small frown on his lips at your questions.
“That’s not what really matters, Y/n. What’s happened to you?” he asked, giving you that pitiful look you hated.
The way he kept repeating your name didn’t fail to make you uncomfortable.
You backed away from him slightly, dropping the bouquet, but was suddenly grabbed by the wrist by an iron-like grip.
“Answer me, Y/n,” he demanded, a stern look in his eye.
You squirmed in his grip, spitting insults at him, but it was like you had no effect on him.
Soon, it just led to him being pinned over you on your couch, his hands on either side of your head.
Your eyes were wide in fear, and you felt forced to answer the question he had been urging you to answer for the past agonizing minutes.
“Okay, okay! I got dumped, okay!?” you yelled at him, tears starting to gather in your eyes.
He froze, but soon regained composure. “So what? That’s no reason for you to destroy yourself,” he stated. You blinked at his audacity.
“You have no idea what I’ve had to go through—“
A kiss.
That’s what interrupted your answer of rage. A slow, but firm kiss on your lips. You couldn’t even find the energy to fight him off, already being weak as it was.
When he finally disconnected from you, tears had started streaming down your face.
His hands found your cheeks, wiping the warm tears away.
“Don’t worry Y/n,” he tried to comfort you. “I’ll never make you go through something like that again.”
You shook your head in confusion.
“With me, you’ll be happy. I’ll make sure everything gets back to normal again,” he cooed, eyes inspecting your face.
“Now, let’s go home, shall we? This place probably just reminds you of him.”
Hope you enjoyed!!! Requests are open
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dandelions-143 · 22 hours
Text
Secrets (finale)
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Secrets 1 - 4 found here: Hyunjins Masterlist
All other members: Masterlist
Pairing: Non-Idol Hyunjin x Plus size/Mid size fem reader
Word Count: 2,700
Warnings: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Sexual content, Strong language, Emotional Intensity
Summary: Hyunjin reenters your life, this time on your terms. With a heart still mending, you agree to a second meeting. But the question lingers—has the man you love truly changed?
A/N: as of right now this will be the final installment of Secrets. You may possibly get to see these two in other members stories that will be posted later. I really hope you enjoyed this story. It was very fun and challenging to write! Also I will be pausing any other posts of the bad boy series until October is over, due to Kinktober coming up! Stay tuned for more!
Two weeks had elapsed since that pivotal conversation in your mother's lush garden. Hyunjin had caught only fleeting glimpses of you as he concluded his business with your father. These brief encounters—a passing glance in the hallway, a distant figure in the garden—only intensified his longing. With each passing day, the weight of your absence grew heavier, and the looming departure tomorrow evening felt like an impending doom.
Hyunjin found himself in the spare bedroom of his temporary apartment, a space he'd leased for the month but which now felt suffocating with memories and unfulfilled hopes. Before him stood an easel, supporting a canvas awash with vibrant hues. His hands, once steady and sure, now trembled slightly, leaving smears of paint across his palms and fingers. The portrait taking shape on the canvas was unmistakably you, though rendered in hazy, dreamlike strokes—a reflection of his current state of mind.
As he gazed at the painting, a heavy sigh escaped his lips. The sound seemed to echo in the quiet room, emphasizing his solitude. You had always been a constant presence in his thoughts, a guiding star in his universe. But now, faced with the very real possibility of losing you forever, those thoughts had transformed into an all-consuming tempest. Every waking moment was filled with your image, your voice, your touch—memories that both comforted and tormented him. Even in sleep, he found no respite, his dreams a kaleidoscope of shared moments and imagined futures.
"Fuck," he groaned, his voice echoing in the empty apartment. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, highlighting the scattered art supplies and half-finished canvases. Hyunjin's eyes darted to his phone for the hundredth time that day, willing it to light up with your name. The sinking feeling in his gut grew heavier with each passing minute, whispering that he had lost you forever.
He stood up abruptly, unable to sit still any longer. His fingers ran through his hair, leaving it disheveled as he paced the room. The wooden floorboards creaked under his restless steps, a rhythmic accompaniment to his racing thoughts. The painting of you on the easel seemed to mock him, your eyes following his movements, a constant reminder of what he might have lost. Hyunjin's gaze kept returning to his phone, silently pleading for it to ring, to show any sign of your name on the screen.
Suddenly, the silence shattered like glass. The shrill ring of his phone cut through the air, sending Hyunjin's heart leaping into his throat. He lunged for the device, nearly knocking over a cup of paint-stained water in his haste. His hands trembled as he picked up the phone, fingers slipping on the smooth surface. Not bothering to check the caller ID, he answered without hesitation, his voice breathless. "Hello."
He tried to calm his racing heart, acutely aware of how loud his breathing sounded in the quiet room. There was a brief pause, the silence on the other end stretching for what felt like an eternity. Then, your voice came through the speaker, soft and hesitant, sending a shiver down his spine. "Hyunjin... I've been thinking about everything." His breath caught in his throat, his grip tightening on the phone until his knuckles turned white. He waited for you to continue, hardly daring to breathe. "Can we meet? I think we need to talk face to face."
Hyunjin's heart raced, pounding so hard he was sure you could hear it through the phone. He replied, his voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, of course. Where do you want to meet?" He held his breath, the anticipation of seeing you face to face, of finally having the chance to talk things through, was almost unbearable. He could hear the nervousness in your voice as you replied, the slight tremor matching his own internal turmoil. "I'm actually on my way to the address you gave me right now. I should be there in ten."
His eyes widened in shock, darting around the cluttered space of his apartment. Paint supplies were strewn about haphazardly, evidence of his restless attempts to capture his emotions on canvas. Half-finished paintings leaned against walls, their subjects a blur of colors and shapes. The air was thick with the acrid scent of turpentine, mingling with the earthy smell of oil paints. He quickly surveyed the chaos, his heart racing at the thought of you seeing his living space in such disarray. With only minutes to spare, Hyunjin began a frantic attempt to tidy up, his mind torn between the urgency of cleaning and the anticipation of your arrival. He moved in a whirlwind, shoving supplies into drawers and closets, his hands leaving smears of paint on every surface he touched.
"Uh, yeah! Yeah... I'll be here. My apartment is 224B," he said, biting his bottom lip as he rushed around to clean up as much as he could. His heart pounded in his chest, the anticipation of your arrival making his hands tremble slightly. "See you soon," you said before hanging up. Hyunjin's heart raced as he ended the call, his eyes darting around the cluttered room. He had mere minutes to make the space presentable before you arrived.
With frantic energy, he began shoving art supplies into drawers and closets, his mind a whirlwind of anticipation and nervousness. Paint-stained rags disappeared into a nearby hamper, and half-finished canvases were hastily propped against the wall, their still-wet surfaces gleaming in the afternoon light. The scent of turpentine hung heavy in the air, a testament to his recent artistic frenzy.
As he heard a soft knock at the door, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation that could change everything. The sound seemed to echo through the apartment, making his pulse quicken even more.
That's when he remembered the paint on his hands. "Shit," he mumbled, his eyes widening in panic. He dashed to the kitchen sink, nearly tripping over a stray easel in his haste. "Coming!" he yelled, his voice slightly strained as he scrubbed his large hands vigorously under the running water. The cool liquid mixed with the vibrant colors, creating a swirling rainbow in the sink. He managed to get most—but not all—of the paint off, leaving faint traces of blue and green under his nails.
Hyunjin ran his wet hands through his black messy hair, hoping to tame it a bit. Droplets of water clung to the strands, giving him a slightly disheveled but endearing look. He quickly dried his hands on a nearby towel, leaving colorful smudges on the fabric. Then he stepped to the door, taking one last deep breath to compose himself before opening it smoothly.
As the door swung open, Hyunjin's breath caught in his throat. There you stood, your eyes meeting his with a mix of uncertainty and determination. The air between you crackled with tension, unspoken words hanging heavy in the silence. Your familiar scent wafted towards him, stirring memories of shared moments and whispered promises. Hyunjin stepped back, gesturing for you to enter, his chest tightening at the sight of you. "Come in," he said, his voice softer than he intended, betraying the emotions swirling within him.
You stepped inside onto the rug and took off your shoes, leaving them right next to Hyunjin's. The simple sight of your shoes beside his made your heart squeeze a bit, a physical representation of the closeness you once shared. The apartment was homey, a bit messy but you liked it. The warmth of the space enveloped you, a stark contrast to the cool autumn air outside.
Then you began to notice things... mainly how the apartment was decorated. Your eyes scanned the small yet modern kitchen, taking in the sleek appliances and the soft, warm lighting. The countertops were cluttered with various art supplies, evidence of Hyunjin's recent creative burst. A half-empty mug of coffee sat on the island. The whole scene felt intimately familiar, as if you were stepping into a dream you'd had countless times before.
Your gaze swept across the open living room, taking in the modern furniture adorned in comforting beiges and deep browns. "Hyunjin..." you began, words momentarily failing you. The apartment's decor mirrored exactly what you'd once described as your vision for a shared living space—a conversation you'd had when discussing plans to move in together.
You turned to him, your eyes brimming with a complex mix of emotions—surprise, confusion, and a glimmer of hope that you couldn't quite suppress. The familiar layout and color scheme stirred vivid memories of shared dreams and plans, making your heart flutter erratically in your chest. Every detail, from the soft beige walls to the strategically placed artwork, echoed conversations you'd had about your ideal living space. You wondered, with a mixture of awe and trepidation, if this was mere coincidence or a deliberate, painstaking choice on Hyunjin's part. As your gaze met his, words failed you, the weight of unspoken questions hanging heavily between you, almost tangible in the charged air.
Hyunjin shrugged slightly, a knowing smile playing on his plump lips, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. "I couldn't help myself," he admitted softly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. "I wanted to be surrounded by you, by our dreams... I guess it was my way of holding onto hope." Your eyes widened, a kaleidoscope of emotions flickering across your face—surprise, tenderness, and a surge of affection you couldn't quite contain. The realization that Hyunjin had gone to such lengths to recreate your shared vision touched something deep within you, melting away some of the ice that had formed around your heart. Taking a hesitant step closer, you spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "Hyunjin, I've been thinking a lot about you... about us..." You shook your head, struggling to find the right words to express the tumult of emotions swirling within you.
Hyunjin's eyes softened as he watched you struggle for words, his gaze filled with patience and understanding. He moved closer, closing the distance between you until you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. "I understand," he said gently, his voice barely above a whisper, the softness of his tone wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. "Take your time. I'm here to listen, for as long as you need." His familiar scent enveloped you unleashing a flood of memories that threatened to overwhelm you. Stolen kisses in hidden corners, lazy Sunday mornings tangled in sheets, shared laughter over inside jokes—each memory washed over you, reminding you of the depth of your connection. You took a deep, shaky breath, gathering your thoughts before continuing, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of your words. "I've realized something important during our time apart, Hyunjin. Despite everything that's happened, despite all the pain and confusion, my feelings for you haven't changed. They've only grown stronger, more certain. I miss you, Hyunjin. I miss us—the way we were, the way we could be."
You watched as Hyunjin's handsome face transformed, lighting up with a potent mix of relief, hope, and unbridled joy. His eyes, usually so guarded, softened visibly, brimming with unshed tears that made them glisten in the soft light of the apartment. A small, tender smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, slowly spreading until it illuminated his entire face. He reached out, his movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid you might disappear if he moved too quickly. His hands enveloped yours, his touch sending a familiar warmth coursing through your body, igniting every nerve ending. His fingers, slightly calloused from his art, intertwined with yours, fitting perfectly as they always had. "I've missed you too," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, cracking slightly on the last word. "More than you could ever know. Every day without you has been... incomplete. You're the missing piece, Y/N. You always have been." The raw honesty in his voice, the vulnerability in his eyes, made your heart swell with a renewed sense of hope and possibility.
You gazed up at Hyunjin, your eyes meticulously tracing his features as if rediscovering them for the first time. The warmth of his hands, still bearing faint traces of vibrant paint, served as a tangible reminder of the passion he poured into his art. An invisible, magnetic force seemed to draw you closer, the familiar connection between you intensifying with each passing second. The air around you felt charged, crackling with unspoken emotions and shared memories. "Hyunjin," you whispered, your voice barely audible, trembling slightly with the weight of your words, "I've lost a lot of trust, but... it can be rebuilt. I want to try."
Hyunjin's eyes widened, so many emotions flickering in their depths - hope, determination, and a hint of vulnerability. He gently squeezed your hands, his long fingers intertwining with yours, creating a perfect fit. His voice was soft yet resolute, carrying the weight of his sincerity. "I understand completely, and I swear I'll do whatever it takes to rebuild that trust. We can take it slow, day by day, moment by moment if that's what you need." His gaze held yours, unwavering and intense, as he continued, "I want to prove to you that you can trust me again, that we can make this work. I'm committed to us, to you, with every fiber of my being."
His words rang with undeniable sincerity, each syllable resonating with the depth of his feelings. You found yourself believing everything he was saying, your heart softening despite your best efforts to remain guarded. Yet, the way he looked at you made your pulse quicken, sending a rush of warmth through your body. Hyunjin's deep brown eyes, flecked with gold in the soft light, kept darting to your lips, lingering there before meeting your gaze again. His tongue would occasionally sweep across his own plump lips, moistening them and making them appear irresistibly enticing. The gesture, probably unconscious on his part, sent a shiver down your spine. You stepped away from him, trying desperately to keep your composure. You'd just agreed to take things slow, to rebuild trust gradually, but your body clearly had other ideas, yearning for his touch.
Hyunjin noticed your hesitation immediately, his artist's eye attuned to even the slightest change in your demeanor. He mirrored your action, taking a step back to respect your need for space. His hand ran through his hair, tousling the dark strands - a gesture you recognized as a sign of his own nervousness. It was oddly comforting to see that he was just as affected by your proximity as you were by his. "I'm sorry," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. We can take this as slow as you need. Your comfort, your trust - they're the most important things to me right now." His words were genuine, laced with care and understanding. But despite the physical distance between you, the tension remained palpable - electric and alive. It was a testament to the deep, unbreakable connection you shared, a bond that had weathered storms and now stood on the precipice of renewal.
He ran his long fingers through his messy hair, not doing much to keep it out of his eyes. He looked tense but so were you. “You don’t make me uncomfortable.. I’m just trying to..” you didn’t continue your sentence because Hyunjin was suddenly in front of you his lean body pressed to yours. His warm breath fanned across your face, sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes locked with his, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The air between you crackled with electric tension, your bodies drawn together like magnets. Despite your resolve to take things slow, you found yourself leaning in, your lips mere inches from his.
"I'm sorry, I just need—" Hyunjin began, his voice husky with desire, but you silenced him with a searing kiss. Your lips crashed against his, igniting a fire that had been smoldering beneath the surface for far too long. The kiss was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through your body as Hyunjin's arms instinctively encircled your waist, pulling you flush against him.
His lips were soft yet demanding, moving against yours with a passion that left you breathless. You could taste the faint hint of coffee on his tongue as it tangled with yours, exploring and rediscovering. The familiar scent of his cologne—a heady mix of sandalwood and citrus—enveloped you, evoking memories of passionate nights spent tangled in bed.
As the kiss deepened, Hyunjin's hands began to roam, his fingers leaving trails of fire in their wake. They traced the curve of your spine, sending shivers coursing through you, before settling on your hips, gripping them firmly. You melted into his embrace, your body responding to his touch as if no time had passed, as if you were made for each other.
A soft moan escaped your lips as Hyunjin's mouth left yours, blazing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. His lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, and you gasped, your fingers threading through his silky hair, holding him close. "God, Y/N," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and heavy, "you feel so incredible... I've missed your taste, your scent, everything about you."
With gentle yet insistent pressure, Hyunjin guided you backward until your lower back met the cool edge of the counter. In one fluid motion, he lifted you, his strong hands gripping your thighs as he settled you on the countertop. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer, needing to feel every inch of him pressed against you.
The familiar spark between you erupted into a roaring inferno, consuming all thoughts of taking things slow. Hyunjin's hands roamed your body with reverence, reacquainting themselves with every curve and contour. His touch was both familiar and exhilarating, as if he was rediscovering a favorite piece of art, committing every detail to memory.
You arched into him as his lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. Each touch of his lips sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you could feel the wetness building between your thighs. The need to have him closer, to feel his skin against yours, became overwhelming. "Hyunjin..." you whimpered, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as he lavished attention on your collarbone.
Hyunjin slowly straightened, his dark eyes meeting yours. They were filled with a mixture of desire, adoration, and a silent question. His fingers curled around the hem of your shirt, seeking permission. In that moment, time seemed to stand still. You knew that if you nodded, there would be no turning back. The air crackled with tension as you made your decision, your heart racing with anticipation.
With a small nod, you granted him permission. Hyunjin's movements were gentle yet purposeful as he slowly lifted your shirt, his knuckles grazing your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. As the fabric cleared your head, your hair fell into your eyes. Hyunjin paused, a tender smile playing on his lips as he reached up to brush the strands aside, tucking them gently behind your ears. The simple gesture, so full of care and intimacy, made your heart swell.
Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, his lips were on yours again. This kiss was different—deeper, more passionate, filled with unspoken promises and barely restrained desire. You lost yourself in the sensation, in the taste of him, in the feel of his body pressed against yours. As Hyunjin's hands resumed their exploration of your newly exposed skin, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, your connection—this undeniable, all-consuming love—was worth fighting for.
His hands roamed your body with reverent intensity, expertly unclasping your bra and tossing it aside. As his lips trailed down to your newly exposed skin, you arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. The warmth of his breath against your sensitive flesh sent shivers down your spine. Hyunjin's eyes, dark pools of desire, met yours as he whispered against your heated skin, his voice husky and filled with adoration, "You're so fucking beautiful. Every inch of you is perfection."
Hyunjin's hands slid up your long skirt, the fabric rustling softly as he hiked it up to your thighs. His fingers caressed every inch of you. The contrast between his warm hands and the cool air made you shiver with anticipation. "So soft... and all mine," he murmured, his voice deeper than before, dripping with sexual tension. His effortless sexiness, the way his muscles rippled under his skin with each movement, made you ache to remove his clothes, to feel his bare skin against yours.
Your hands moved to the hem of his shirt, tugging it upwards with urgent desire. Hyunjin obliged, breaking contact for just a moment to pull his shirt over his head. The sight of his toned chest and abs, now fully revealed, made your breath catch in your throat. Your fingers traced the contours of his muscles, feeling them flex and tense under your touch. The warmth of his skin and the slight sheen of sweat made him glisten in the dim light. A low groan escaped his lips at your touch, the sound sending a jolt of arousal straight to your core. "Your turn," you whispered, your eyes locked on his, dark with desire, as your hands moved to undo his belt.
With deft fingers, you unbuckled his belt, the metallic clink echoing in the charged silence between you. You popped open the button of his jeans, the anticipation building with each small action. Hyunjin's breath hitched audibly as you slowly lowered the zipper, the sound seeming impossibly loud in the quiet room. Your eyes never left his, watching as his pupils dilated further with each passing second. The tension between you was electric, palpable, as you pushed his jeans down his hips, revealing more of his toned body.
As his jeans pooled around his ankles, you couldn't help but admire the sight before you. Hyunjin stood there, his sculpted body on full display, every muscle defined and begging to be touched. His chest rose and fell with quickened breaths, his excitement evident in every aspect of his being. Your hands trailed up his thighs, feeling the muscles tense and quiver under your touch. The warmth of his skin seeped into your palms, igniting a fire within you. Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers, teasing the sensitive skin there. You could feel his arousal growing harder beneath the thin fabric as your fingertips trailed over his skin, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him.
You could visibly see his pale skin pebble with goosebumps just before you pulled his boxers down, the anticipation making your movements both eager and torturously slow. As the fabric fell away, joining his jeans around his ankles, Hyunjin's impressive length sprang free. The sight made you unconsciously lick your lips, your mouth suddenly dry with want. Your hand wrapped around his shaft, feeling it pulse beneath your touch, hot and hard and impossibly smooth. Hyunjin let out a low, guttural groan, his head falling back, exposing the long column of his throat. You began to stroke him slowly, teasingly, watching in fascination as his abs clenched with each movement of your hand.
Your thumb circled the sensitive head, spreading the precum that had gathered there. The slick warmth made your movements smoother, more sensual. Hyunjin's hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of your touch, more friction, more of everything you had to offer. "Y/N," he breathed, your name like a sin on his lips. His voice was husky with need, rough with desire. "I need you. Now." The raw want in his tone sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. With those words, Hyunjin lifted you off the counter in one fluid motion, his strength evident in the ease with which he moved you. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your bodies pressed flush against each other. You could feel the heat of his arousal against your core, separated only by the thin fabric of your skirt.
He carried you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. The kiss was deep, passionate, filled with promises of pleasure to come. As he gently laid you on the bed, his eyes roamed your body hungrily, taking in every curve, every inch of exposed skin. The intensity of his gaze made you feel both vulnerable and incredibly desired. But then he stilled for a moment, his brows furrowing in confusion. You felt his finger trace over your ribcage, his touch gentle yet questioning. The sudden change in his demeanor was palpable, concern replacing the burning desire in his eyes.
"Y/N, where did you get these?" Hyunjin asked, his voice laced with a hint of anger. His fingers traced the fading yellow-green bruises along your ribcage, his touch feather-light yet sending shivers through your body. The marks, a week old, were a stark reminder of your confrontation with Joo Won.
You hesitated, memories of that night flooding back. Joo Won's face contorted with rage as you told him your heart belonged to Hyunjin. His fingers digging into your skin as he roughly grabbed you, shouting accusations and threats. The fear, the pain, the relief when you finally broke free and ran.
"It's... it's nothing," you whispered, your voice barely audible. But Hyunjin's eyes, usually warm and loving, now blazed with a protective fury. You could see the muscles in his jaw clenching, his body tensing above you.
Desperate to salvage the moment, to feel his love rather than relive your pain, you pulled him closer. Your lips found his, urgent and needy. "Please, Hyunjin," you breathed against his mouth, your hips pressing insistently against his. "I need you. I need to feel you, to forget everything else."
For a moment, Hyunjin remained rigid, torn between his desire to protect you and his need to love you. Then, with a soft sigh, he melted into your embrace. His kiss deepened, becoming a promise, an assurance. "I'm here now," he murmured, his lips trailing fire down your neck. "Let me take care of you, let me make you feel good."
His hands, so gentle yet possessive, roamed your body. Each touch seemed to erase the memory of Joo Won's anger, replacing it with warmth and desire. Hyunjin's fingers skimmed over your curves, his palms cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over sensitive nipples. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips.
Hyunjin's mouth followed the path of his hands, leaving a trail of heated kisses down your body. He lavished attention on your breasts, his tongue swirling around each nipple before continuing his descent. When he reached the junction of your thighs, he looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire but still tinged with concern.
"Let me make you feel good," he repeated, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. Without waiting for a response, he dipped his head, his tongue finding your most intimate areas. The first swipe of his tongue made you gasp, your back arching off the bed.
Hyunjin's skilled mouth worked magic on your flesh, alternating between long, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you with fervor. The pleasure built rapidly, your fingers tangling in his thick hair as you felt yourself approaching the edge of ecstasy.
The room filled with the sounds of your pleasure – the wet noises of Hyunjin's mouth, your breathless moans, the rustle of sheets as you writhed beneath him. Your thighs began to tremble, your grip on his hair tightening. "Oh god, Hyunjin... I'm so close," you gasped, your voice high and breathy.
In response, Hyunjin redoubled his efforts. His tongue circled your clit with increased pressure and speed, while one of his hands left your thigh to slide two fingers inside you. The dual stimulation was overwhelming, the coil of pleasure in your core winding tighter and tighter.
With a particularly clever swirl of his tongue combined with a curl of his fingers, Hyunjin pushed you over the edge. Your body tensed, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you cried out his name. Your back arched off the bed, your thighs clamping around his head as you rode out your orgasm.
Hyunjin didn't let up, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to draw out your pleasure until you were trembling and oversensitive. Only then did he slowly kiss his way back up your body, his lips finally meeting yours in a passionate kiss that tasted of you.
As you came down from your high, you felt Hyunjin's hardness pressing against your thigh. His eyes, dark with desire, locked onto yours as he positioned himself at your entrance. With a slow, deliberate thrust, he entered you, both of you gasping at the sensation of being joined once again. The feeling of fullness, of completeness, overwhelmed you as Hyunjin began to move. His hips rolled against yours in a familiar yet exhilarating rhythm, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through your still-sensitive body. Your hands roamed his back, feeling the muscles flex and ripple beneath your fingertips.
Hyunjin's breath was hot against your neck as he whispered words of adoration. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, punctuating each word with a thrust. "So perfect. I love you so much." His words, combined with the sensations he was creating in your body, brought tears to your eyes.
As the pleasure intensified, your nails dug into Hyunjin's skin, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his shoulders. Your bodies moved in perfect synchronization, the world around you fading away until there was nothing but the two of you, lost in a moment of pure, unrestrained passion.
Hyunjin's movements became more intense, his thrusts deeper and more purposeful. A light sheen of sweat coated both your bodies, the feeling of skin sliding against skin sending shivers down your spine. Your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, urging him on as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable crescendo.
With a final, powerful thrust, Hyunjin pushed you both over the edge. Your body tensed, a second wave of pleasure washing over you as you cried out his name. Hyunjin followed moments later, his release mixing with yours as he buried his face in your neck, breathing heavily.
As you both lay there, basking in the afterglow, Hyunjin's arms wrapped around you protectively. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest filled you with a sense of peace and belonging. You tilted your head to meet his gaze, finding his eyes filled with love and adoration.
In that moment, as Hyunjin's eyes bore into yours, you both knew. This was more than just passion or desire. This was a connection that ran soul-deep, a love that could weather any storm. Hyunjin was your person, just as you were his. You owned each other, mind, body, and soul. And in that perfect, quiet moment, you both silently vowed to never let go, to face whatever challenges lay ahead together.
It didn't take long for you to drift off to sleep, held tight in Hyunjin's strong arms. He lay there watching you, mesmerized by the gentle flutter of your eyelashes and the soft rhythm of your breathing. Your skin glowed in the dim light, and he couldn't help but trace the curve of your cheek with his fingertips. You were the most precious thing to him in the entire world, a realization that both thrilled and terrified him.
Though he may not have shown it before, Hyunjin was now determined to make up for all the wasted time and mend your broken heart. He thought about all the moments he'd missed, all the times he could have loved you the right way but didn’t. The weight of his regret was heavy, but it fueled his resolve to do better, to be better for you.
You were his to protect, and as Hyunjin lay there in the dark bedroom, his mind began to race. The memory of those bruises on your skin made his blood boil. He didn't need you to tell him who gave you those marks; he knew. His jaw clenched as he imagined Joo Won's hands on you, hurting you. The protective instinct that surged through him was almost overwhelming.
Slowly, careful not to disturb your peaceful slumber, Hyunjin reached for his phone. The blue light illuminated his face as he typed out a short, cryptic message to Minho. "Need a favor before I leave.” He hesitated for a moment before hitting send, knowing that once he did, there would be no going back. But as he looked down at your sleeping form, so vulnerable and trusting in his arms, he knew he had to do whatever it took to keep you safe.
As he set his phone aside, Hyunjin's mind was already formulating a plan. He would make sure Joo Won never laid a hand on you again, no matter what it took. With a soft sigh, he pulled you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you," he whispered into the darkness, a promise and a vow wrapped into three simple words. "And I'll always protect you."
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startanewdream · 23 hours
Text
I've always wanted to write a scene of mutual agreement and support (friendship is a strong word) between Ginny and Romilda Vane, so here's around 1600 words of something that might have happened during Year 7.
*****
They wait until after dinner to round on her.
Ginny is mildly surprised; she'd guessed they would question her as soon as she got off the train, but perhaps they thought that Snape's speech—not the Headmaster's, she'd never consider him so—might terrify her enough to make her betray everything she has ever believed on. If so, they were very mistaken; seeing Snape in the middle of the staff table, with Death Eaters by his side, only infused her Gryffindor spirit.
"Weasley," calls Alecto Carrow. She has a mind to pretend to ignore her, but the mass of students climbing the stairs seems to freeze with that call, and Ginny has no choice but to answer it, all eyes on her as she walks to Alecto Carrow.
"Yes, Professor." She puts as much spite in that word as she can. Neville and Luna suddenly materialize next to her, and Ginny almost wishes they would stay away, as if there is any protection to be found this year.
Alecto looks her up and down. "That's it?" Her voice is mocking. "That's Potter's girlfriend?"
By her side, Crabble and Goyle nod; their gazes are not as unappreciative as Alecto's. With a shudder, Ginny thinks she will favour disdain any day.
"I thought Potter had better taste."
She buries her nails into her palm. Don't answer, she tells herself, and tries to keep a look of disinterest.
"Where is your boyfriend?"
Her rehearsed answer comes in a bored tone. "I would know if I had any." It feels more than ever that everyone is staring at her.
Alecto doesn't seem convinced, nor do her cronies.
"They were dating," says Goyle, in a whisper that everyone can hear. "Everyone saw it, they were snogging all around the place."
"It's what happens when you are dating someone," snaps Ginny. "We've broken up." She hesitates for a tiny beat. "He dumped me."
This time her rehearsed line doesn't sound credible, despite being the truth. Everyone's gaze seems to burn, evaluating her answer, and, for a moment, Ginny waits for someone to question this, to raise the absurdity of her words: they were in love. As Goyle had noted, anyone could see how they felt about each other; Harry had been beaming the whole time they were together, all those few weeks of sunshine and happiness and hope. Harry wouldn't just dump her—
And then Alecto Carrow laughs.
"I guess Potter already got what he was after, then?" She mocks. "Blood traitors aren't a good value if..."
"Perhaps the girl is lying," another voice pops in, and Ginny turns to see Amycus Carrow joining his sister. His gaze upon her makes Ginny shiver; she remembers all too well duelling him. "Perhaps she knows more than she's letting on—"
"I wouldn't think so," Luna says, her voice as dreaming as ever. "If she knew, she wouldn't be here."
"Harry always kept his secrets," Neville adds, crossing his arms.
Amycus and Alecto share a look before Amycus takes a step forward.
"I will be the judge of that. If we have Potter's precious girlfriend—"
"I am not even his girlfriend anymore!"
It doesn't seem to matter, though. Terror floods her, not so much for herself; there isn't anything that she can share with them, but if somehow Harry finds out that they've got her—their breakup will be for nothing—he is too stupid and too noble to do something reckless—
Amycus grabs her arm; Ginny dives her hand into her pocket, but before she can take out her wand, many things happen. Professor McGonagall appears, Neville points his wand at Amycus, and Romilda Vane laughs nervously.
"Please," she says. "Weasley was his girlfriend, so what?”
That makes everyone draw their eyes to her. Romilda tosses her hair out of her face, seemingly enjoying the attention, but Ginny can see a thin layer of sweat breaking through the girl's careful makeup.
"Harry was always smiling at me, flirting unashamedly, even when he was dating her. I wasn’t the only one either. Everyone knew he wasn't good business. A ladies' man, that one."
Ginny blinks; she is not alone. The year before, when Harry was at the height of his popularity at Hogwarts, everyone's favourite Chosen One, he had drawn many eyes. Ginny had found it bothersome, but she could understand what everyone was seeing: that gorgeous young man with messy dark hair and green eyes, tall and fit, with the added benefit of seeming oblivious to his own charm, almost shy. It had been endearing.
That also was one of the reasons why, when Harry and Ginny started dating, everyone wanted to talk about it. It had been huge news for Hogwarts' standard.
There was no way anyone would believe that Romilda was telling the truth.
"Potter never had any other girlfriend," Crabbe mumbles.
Romilda laughs derisively. "I wasn't his girlfriend, haven't you heard what I just said? He just liked to flirt." She nudges her friend. "Do you remember, Lisa? I told you Harry never took his eyes off me."
Lisa looks terrified, but she nods. "Yes," she confirms in a small voice. "And you—you shared chocolate once."
"Harry dated Cho," someone from the Ravenclaw crowd says, and there's a murmur of agreement.
"I went with Harry to a Christmas party last year," notes Luna. She skips the part where they went as friends.
"I think I saw him snogging a girl behind the greenhouses," Hannah Abbott says.
At her side, a boy nods. "I saw something in the library once."
People start adding comments, their voices mingling in a cacophony. The weirdest part is that Ginny knows no one is lying; people are telling about the times they saw Harry with a girl — only she was this girl, this only girl, but no one specifies that.
"Quiet, quiet!" Alecto sounds annoyed. She looks at Crabbe and Goyle. "Is this true?"
They shrug, lost.
"I saw Potter with Chang at Madam Puddifoot's," Pansy Parkinson confirms, distasteful. "And he went with Loony Lovegood to Slughorn's party."
"That would be Professor Slughorn, Miss Parkinson," chides Professor McGonagall, taking a definite step ahead and placing herself between the Carrows and Ginny. She raises her arm and, almost without a second glance, lowers Neville's still extended arm. "I do not see why a student's romantic life is under scrutiny at this hour of the night, especially a student who is not even here at the moment, but the others have class tomorrow morning."
"This is more important than classes," Amycus spats.
"I remind you this is still a school," Professor McGonagall says coldly.
Amycus' answer is cut by a bored voice. "What is this?" Snape walks, easily opening his way between the students gathered at the door.
"We are trying to interrogate the Weasley girl," Alecto says. "To find out the whereabouts of Potter. She was his girlfriend."
Snape rolls his eyes. "You heard the others. Potter was a lover-boy; that is not surprising considering how his father behaved with his fans." He regards Ginny coldly. "Weasley is not special. I doubted Potter ever shared anything more than a snog with her."
There's an underlying truth in his words that stung her, but before she can react, Snape is already addressing Professor McGonagall.
"Take your students to bed, Minerva. It would not be advisable to be out of the bed at this hour."
Professor McGonagall, who had been frowning at Snape as if trying to figure out something, bristles; there's nothing but repulse in her eyes as she nods.
"Of course, Severus." She turns to Ginny and the others. "Go to the Common Room, now."
And she casts a warning glance at Ginny, who runs to meddle between the other Gryffindor students climbing up the stairs. Her heart doesn't stop beating painfully until she enters the Common Room, and only then she looks back; the Carrows aren't in sight. She doubts this is the last time they will try to question her, but for now, she can breathe easily and give Neville a feeble smile when he looks at her.
"We will watch your back," he whispers.
"It will be fine," she says, with a confidence she doesn't feel. Nothing about her experience at Hogwarts so far gives her any faith that things will turn out well.
And then she catches a mop of black hair.
"Romilda," she calls. Romilda pauses on her way to the stairs.
"Yeah?"
Ginny waits until they are alone to whisper: "Thank you."
Romilda nods. There’s a moment of silence, during which Romilda eyes the stairs as if considering fleeing the scene before she asks: "Did he really break up with you?"
Ginny gulps. "Yeah."
"Oh, I thought—"
"No, it was true."
She waits for some remark; Romilda was truly determined to get Harry the year before, and she had pestered Ginny when she was dating Harry.
"He never actually flirted with me," Romilda says in a rushed whisper. "And you were special to him, I—I spent a lot of time watching him and trying to get his attention, but he never glanced at me... because he was too busy ogling at you."
Warmth spreads inside Ginny; she cannot help her smile. "Harry didn't ogle."
"Yes, all the time. He had it hard for you. Still has, I'd bet." Romilda smiles awkwardly. "Not very womanizer of him."
Ginny's eyes wide. "About that—if anyone finds out that you were exaggerating—"
"I'll talk to my friends. No one is going to say anything."
"I know. I trust you." They look at each other; it suddenly occurs to Ginny that Romilda has no idea, not really, of what could happen if anyone suspects her lie. Romilda never faced a Death Eater. Ginny hopes she never does. "It will be fine."
It's the same thing she told Neville before, but now there's a promise in her voice.
Romilda nods one last time. "Night, Ginny."
"Night, Romilda."
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digitalsymbiote · 3 days
Note
Do most mechs have some sort of protection against gallium projectiles? (Gallium is highly corrosive/eats through most metals)
Mech manufacturers and Weapons manufacturers are in a constant arms race when it comes to effective deterrence strategies. Gallium munitions were very popular anti-mech arms in the early days, but changes in alloys and mech construction methods have made them much less effective.
While a significant amount of research has gone into finding ways to make mechs more resistant to large ordinance, a pilot's best defensive strategy remains simply not getting hit. Most mechs are built for speed and maneuverability, equipped with boosters and chaff launchers to help avoid missiles and other tracking ordinance.
The most dangerous threats to a mech and it's pilot in this era (outside of other mechs) are sustained ballistic arms fire, and unavoidable large area bombardments. A seasoned pilot can outsmart and outmaneuver most any other threat they come across on the battlefield.
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