#i hate being touched when she’s drunk too it just makes me feel wrong and scared and i feel bad bc she’s just trying to tell me how much she

[callixton]

ohhh i’ve been home for like three hours and already i am on edge. i feel like i can’t cough now bc my mom hears and it’s distressing her over the overall state of my health so much that she came into my room with tears in her eyes. like i know it comes from a place of love but holy shit i cannot take this all summer.

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x slytherin!fem!reader

Summary: When your "friends" play a dangerously stupid prank on you, James is the last person you'd think would help you.

Genre: Fluff, hurt and comfort <3

Warning: swearing, mentions of being drugged/drunk, violence, mentions of blood, protective!James

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

When James sees you walk into the classroom with an unusually cheery smile, he can't look away.

"Sirius," he pauses and leans in closer to his friend, "does she look unwell to you?" James whispers, clearly concerned for you. Sirius lets his chin rest on his palms as he looks over at you nonchalantly.

You almost trip on your shoe-laces as you make your way to your desk and you laugh a little too loudly, but only James seems to notice that particular detail.

"Y/l/n? She seems quite happy to me," Sirius's smirk is heard in his voice but James doesn't look amused. 

"No, something's wrong. She's usually quiet and she," he doesn't finish his sentence when he sees your friends in the corner of the classroom.

Some of them look as concerned as he is while most hide smiles and snickers behind their hands as they look at you. James's eyes bounce back to you and his frown deepens. Something is wrong. Instantly, he's on his feet.

"Prongs!?" Sirius sounds surprised but it's no use trying to stop him because James is already on his way to you.

Just as you raise your arm to run a hand in your – already annoyed – desk partner's hair, James quickly swoops in and catches your wrist. You pause and when you turn your head to look at him, your smile widens. 

"Potter!" you slur.

James can be an idiot sometimes, but he does know you're not drunk. He's never seen you drink. You look dizzy and he comes to the conclusion you must be under the influence of some kind of spell. He looks you over and sees the nasty cut on your knee. Anger bubbles in his stomach as he remembers how your friends somehow found this all incredibly funny. 

You tilt your head at him slightly and say, "You have pretty eyes, did you know that?" you smile a smile James usually loves and was never directed at him before, but by now the entire classroom has their eyes on you and, because he knows you would hate all this unnecessary attention, James helps you stand.

You let out a breathy giggle when his hands find your waist and hold you steady.  

"What are you doing?" a shrill voice asks from behind him and James clenches his jaw. He turns around. It's one of your friends. She's also in Slytherin and as hard as he tries, James can't remember her name.

"Helping your friend," he says blankly, "She seems a little out of it, doesn't she?"

"She's fine," your friend rolls her and tucks her dark hair behind her ear. "Aren't you, Y/n?" she asks you with a faint smirk.

Your body sways and James's arms move from your waist and swoops around you to hold under your armpits. "I'm okay — y-yeah, I'm okay. I feel better than fine," You mutter, eyelids fluttering slightly as you giggle at his touch.

James isn't at all convinced you're okay. 

Your friend's cruel smirk and the mystery of how you've bruised your knee leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"She's bleeding," he states as calmly as he can. 

"She's just clumsy." 

"She's obviously been hexed or something," James narrows his eyes.

Your friend laughs at his accusatory tone. "What? And you think I did it?"

"Yeah, actually, I do."

At this point, it's obvious you aren't paying attention to their argument as you start to play with James's collar. His cheeks flush pink as your hair skims his chin and the smell of your shampoo fills the air.

"Well if you won't tell me what happened to her, then I'll find out myself," he says and his hand moves to hold yours. "Come on," he whispers sweetly and you let him lead you out of the classroom.

James is extremely careful with you. He makes sure you don't trip in the hallway, or run into any doors and walls, and more importantly he stays with you when the nurse comes to make sure you're okay.

He leans over the hospital bed as his hand hover over your knee as he asks, "What's happened to her?" 

"Veritaserum," the nurse says as she presses her palm on your forehead. 

"The truth serum?" James is confused. "Doesn't that make someone tell the truth? Why would it make her act so," he turns his head to look at you and conflicting emotions creates what feels like an empty pit in his stomach. You look so beautiful with your eyes blown wide as you glance around the room. "So ditzy?" he finishes in an endeared whisper.

"It isn't uncommon as everyone can have different reactions," The nurse explains as she gently inspects your knee, "I think whoever made this potion must not be particularly skilled."

James clenches his fist around his cloak and tries to remind himself that you probably wouldn't want him to beat up your so-called-friends.

"What's happening to me?" your voice comes out strained as you try and focus on their conversation as you catch on to their confused faces. 

"Nothing, honey, you're fine. Your friend was worried and he," 

You interrupt her, "James Potter? Oh, he isn't my friend." You look up at James and his smile disappears. He's embarrassed as he searches your face for any indication that you're joking but clearly you aren't because you ask him. "Potter, do you even know my name?" You sound serious.

James hesitates to answer, "Of course I know your name, Y/n," he finally admits.

He doesn't expect your eyes to light up but they do and you turn to the nurse, "He does know my name," you whisper with a smile.

James's heart swells at how happy you seem and he smirks a little. Amused, the nurse lets you continue, "You'know," you lean in closer and mutter just loud enough for James to hear without you knowing, "I really like him."

Surprised, his heart jumps and the nurse panics as he quickly shuts you up. "Alright honey, let's clean up this nasty little wound and then wait for the potion to pass, ok?" you nod and focus on her as she waves her wand across your knee and the cut disappears. 

Once she's done, the nurse turns to James and says, "I know you must be curious, Potter, but I think Y/l/n should be alone while she recovers," the nurse turns to you again and looks at you sympathetically.

"He can stay!" you insist, "I want him to stay."

James looks into your eyes and he wonders how he can even think of disappointing you.

But, when he looks at the nurse again his heart sinks. He can't stay, he knows he can't. It would be unfair. You deserve to keep your secrets — all those feelings you wouldn't share with him normally — hidden away in your pretty little head. 

James knows he can't take those away from you so he nods, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and sends you a lopsided smile. "I'll see you around, mmh?" 

He leaves before he can focus on the way you called his name because if he does, he knows he'd feel compelled to rush back in and stay by your side. On his way back to the classroom, he can't help but smile as he remembers your words. Only, his smile disappears the moment he hears your friends in the hallway. 

James stops in front of them and they do the same. The girl from earlier crosses her arms. "What's your issue, Potter?" she snarls, "Where's Y/n?"

James refuses to answer her question. "You gave her the Veritaserum, didn't you?" he accuses and some of your friend's squirm guiltily. The dark-haired girl just smirks.

"So what if we did? She isn't dying, is she? It was funny," she turns to your other friends with a grin and they nod meekly. "You should have seen her stumbling around, she wasn't even fazed when she fell and scraped her knee on the cobblestones. It was hilarious," she continues.

James's face burns from the points of his ears to his cheeks. "Hilarious?!" he repeats, his voice stern, "What kind of friends find it funny when their friend hurts themselves? She didn't know about the Veritaserum, did she?" 

The girl shakes her head but one of your other friends interrupts. He's a tall, lanky Slytherin with icy blue eyes and vibrant auburn hair.

"Of course she didn't know, Potter. It wouldn't be as fun if she did. I would think you would understand," he admits with a grin.

James's hands shake as he stares at your friend rambling. The boy only chuckles and turns to his friends, amused, as he taunts, "Slipped the potion in her drink myself this morning."

He doesn't finish his sentence as James punches him. He stumbles back into the girls, cupping his hands around his nose, as they shriek in surprise. James shakes his hand out a little and narrows his eyes. "You don't spike someone's drink, asshole. And don't fucking insinuate I would ever do something like that to anyone!"

"What the fuck? Why do you even care?" The boy hisses as one girl holds his shoulder and tends to him. "You're crazy." 

And sure, maybe James was crazy but he won't tolerate someone hurting you. 

Ever. 

* * *

"James, just give the poor girl some space," Remus sighs as he tries to concentrate on his essay. "She's gone through enough these last few days. Haven't you heard the rumors going around? They're brutal."

James resists the scream that bubbles in his throat. "I know. I know. I just want to be there for her," he whines and Sirius wraps his arm around his shoulder.

"You'll just make things worse," Sirius says, "Last rumor I heard is that she faked it all for your attention." 

James clenches his jaw. "How would I make this worse? It's all so fucking cruel, Pads. She's all alone," his heart has been slowly breaking whenever he thinks of you sobbing in your dorm or sitting alone during your classes and meals. 

He shuts his eyes a moment and then sits up abruptly and says, "I know what to do."

Remus looks up and with a worried expression, his eyes widen. "Prongs," he starts but James is already standing. "Sirius! Don't let him leave!" Remus insists but it's too late because their friend is already out the Common Room door. 

When James enters the Great Hall, he pauses and searches for you. He sees you sitting alone and he becomes so angry he can't think normally.

He storms up to the Slytherin table and jumps on top of it. Some cutlery and food falls to the floor and students turn their heads. James just clears his throat, making a show as he stumbles on his feet. 

If everyone wants to gossip about something, they can gossip about this. 

With a grin, he spreads his arms and shouts, "Can I have everyone's attention?" The Great Hall turns silent and James struts down the table until he's much closer to you. You feel your cheeks heat up and you hold your breath.

Remus and Sirius run into the Great Hall, calling James's name but it's too late because James is now standing in front of you as he holds out his hand. "Y/n, will you go out with me?" He asks, his voice loud and calm.

Whispers break out as your heart thumps in your chest. You look into James's eyes, searching them and when you reluctantly take his hand he nods a little and pulls you up onto the table with him. 

Quickly, he pulls you closer and then whispers in your ear, "Say no. Trust me." 

Your frown deepens but the words leave you without thinking, "No?" 

James smirks and just subtle enough for no one to see, he kisses your cheek and pulls you away from him. Dramatically, he stumbles backwards and covers his heart. "Ow, you're killing me here, love. What will I do without you?"

If you didn't know he had just asked you to reject him, you would think he sounds genuinely hurt. As he stumbles, he trips on someone's glass and with a loud crash, he falls to the ground.

Students gasp loudly and so do you as you cover your mouth with your hands and rush to the edge of the table and peer down at him. When you see him sitting on the ground he suddenly blows a kiss up to you, a small paper bird flutters up to you and then turns into rose petals.

Your eyes widen and you can't help but laugh when James continues to make a scene and the petals fall in your hair. "You're breaking my heart, darling. Criminal," James whispers and winks dramatically. 

"James Potter, detention. Now," McGonagall's voice booms and when James sees you hide a smile behind your hand, he smiles too.

A while later, as James sweeps up McGonagall's classroom floor, all he can think of is your happy smile.

"James?" Your voice interrupts his memory and he jumps a little, turning towards the door. You stand in the doorway, a flustered look on your face as you hesitate to come inside. James drops the broom and rushes over to you. 

His knuckles hover over your cheek as he says, "Y/n, are you okay?"

Your eyes widen and you touch his hand. Gently, you pull it down to his side again as you whisper and ask, "What was that all about?"

James searches your face for anger. "I wanted to take the embarrassment off of you. You don't deserve anything that's been happening to you, love. None of it is your fault."

You look at him more seriously. "Yeah, it's been a little hard but I can handle the teasing. You shouldn't have done that," you say and James's heart clenches in his chest. 

"I'm sorry if I upset you, Y/n. I just wanted,"

You interrupt him, "No. I mean you shouldn't have asked me to say no," you pause and look up at him, "unless, you don't actually want to go out with me. But, I know you know how I feel about you and I,"

Your sentence dies and you don't know what else to say. 

James's expression softens. You look up at him, almost pleading with him, "Please don't make me repeat what I said in the Hospital Wing. It's so embarrassing, and I know you heard me. I wasn't exactly quiet."

James smirks. "When you said you like me?" he holds up his finger and pretends to ponder, "No I'm sorry, you really like me," his smile widens as he looks at you. You feel warmth in your cheeks and look away.

"Yeah, that."

"Well, I really like you too."

Your eyes widen and you look up at him. James uses his thumb to lift your chin. You realize how close your body is to his and your breath hitches in your throat. James's hand moves to your cheek, caressing it softly as you whisper, "You do?"

James lets out a breathy chuckle. "Of course I do. You're beautiful, kind, incredibly smart it's annoying," his eyes are full of admiration, "What's there not to like, darlin'?"

You frown, glancing quickly at the emblem stitched onto my robes and then you look at him again. "But, I'm a Slytherin. I didn't even think you ever knew who I was until last week. We've never really talked."

James's smile falters and his thumb moves behind your ear as he holds your cheek. "That's my fault. I should have said something sooner but with my reputation and all," he looks away, his face twisted in shame, "I didn't want to scare you away."

You see the sincerity in his eyes but ask wearily, "So it doesn't bother you?" 

"That you're in Slytherin?" James smiles a little. "No, it doesn't, love. I don't care. I've seen how you are and I think you're absolutely lovely," he catches himself, "I mean, I'm not saying Slytherin's aren't lovely,"

You shut him up with a kiss. It's confident and startling but James doesn't complain. He simply pulls you in closer and lets his mouth explore yours with a passion he didn't know he had. He didn't know how starved he was of your taste until now.

Fuck, he's fucked. 

You pull away, lips wet and stare at him. "Sorry," you mutter.

"Sorry?" James frowns and leans in to kiss you again, "Don't you dare be sorry. Just kiss me," his words leave you a mush in his arms and you're happy for his hand around your back because otherwise you would fall over. 

When he finally disconnects your lips, he leans his forehead on yours and whispers what he'd been thinking, "You'll kill me, love."

You smile and hold his arm. "Thanks for saving me by the way, when I was under the potion," you say. 

James leans away and studies your soft expression with a small smile. "I'd be an asshole not to help you. I didn't want to see you get hurt." 

"Still, if you hadn't seen that something was wrong I don't know what would have happened."

"Nothing would have happened because I was there," James insists and kisses your forehead, "I'll always be there." He adds in a whisper into your hair.

It's only for him to hear. He doesn't want to just tell you he's there for you, instead he wants to show you. Everyday.

[0luv9]

can't move on || mattheo riddle

Summary: He was done fucked, a weak man on his knees for her, mad for her, in love with her and funny enough she didn't know. Him sleeping around isn't helping him though.

Beware: angst, fluff (?), minimal plot, smoking, drugs, alcohol, she/her pronouns, second person used as well, miscommunication, misunderstandings, excessive use of swear words, both reader and Mattheo assume the worst, happy ending.

Words: 4.025k

Mattheo Riddle is in deep shit. His feelings have dug him a deep hole, a hole so deep that he could bury himself a hundred times over and still not be anywhere near the surface. He is so in love with you. And you being so fucking oblivious, mistake his advances for him being friendly. It's funny because when has he ever done something friendly? He's not even friendly to his friends, he insults them as a greeting for fucks sake. It's ridiculous how clueless you are, it was endearing at first but now it's just painful for him to watch you go on dates, that too every date with a different guy.

He thinks you've fucked them all, afterall it's him, Mattheo Riddle, he only thinks in extremes, if you've been on a date with some dude, you ofcourse had fucked him because who wouldn't do you. He resorted to the same ways, fucking his frustration out but instead of feeling satisfied, he would feel relieved for a moment and then his frustration would grow more and more, never coming close to being satisfied. He thought he could just fuck it all out, that he could just forget you, that he could just hate you. It became a routine for him, he got rougher and rougher with the girls he slept with, reaching his own high became harder and harder. It was all because of you, 'cause you couldn't see his love and make him a lover.

His reputation was worsening, his grades started slipping, he started ignoring you, becoming angry easily, snapping at anyone and everyone. Fucking girls left and right, every day was the same and he wondered why the hell he couldn't find a solution to all his problems. His smoking habits became worse, one cigarette turned into two, two turned three and now he was smoking one pack a day. His life was fucked, he could no longer think for himself, the thoughts of you with someone else corrupted his mind at all times. Everyone could see him ruining his life, he couldn't care less, he didn't give a shit about the names he was being called, most of them were true anyway.

…

Tonight was like every other Slytherin party night, except for the fact that he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, all he wanted was a drunk hookup but he had slept with most of the girls in the room and he couldn't bring himself to repeat them over. He sighed, walking off to a secluded balcony, pulling out a cigarette, it was boring, life had become boring.

"Mattheo," he nearly jerked his head in the direction of your voice, it's been so long since he's heard it. All of it coming back to him, all the feelings he was trying to get rid of came right back, knocking at his heart. He's looking for the sweet smile, the one you'd always give him when you'd talk to him but all you did was frown at him, looking at him like the onlookers who gossiped about him and it fucking hurt. "Yes darling," he greeted you like nothing was wrong, before you would've smiled at his cheesy nicknames but now you grimaced at his hoarse voice and stepped back, he quickly looked away, just like that he blew off his last chance, he couldn't face it, he couldn't see you walk away from him, he physically couldn't.

"Riddle-" "Don't, don't call me that," he whispered, it was pathetic, he knows it too but that doesn't stop him, he couldn't hear you call him that. "Mattheo, I am Mattheo," he breathed out like an affirmation to himself, as though reminding himself of the person he's losing, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his shoe. There it is, he's doing it again, acting how you'd want him to act, you disapproved of his smoking habits, you never told him to stop though, just so you know, he would stop if you only asked but you never did. You never asked anything of him, making the friendship feel one-sided, never wanting to bother him, you didn't do that with your other friends, you were openly asking them for favours albeit small, still favours, that's how friends are, looking out for eachother but no, you never expressed it, he just had to read into it. It made him feel as though he was your friend, just for the name sake, wow- he couldn't even be your friend.

He closed his eyes trying to contain himself, taking a hit from the burning cigarette, his hands were trembling, he was hurt, he could never be with you, you were making it clear. For the first time he got an actual sign of rejection and he just couldn't take it. "Riddle." It was still your voice, coming from his side, he slowly turned, there you were, standing next to him, looking at him with concern, giving him the slightest bit of hope, making his heart pound against his chest. He simply stared at you this time, unable to think of a response because you called him by his last name, you never did that. You didn't speak either, both staring at eachother, him with everything unsaid, sadness, anger, hope, longing, love, every fucking thing while you looked at him with worry painted all over your face. Mattheo hated to have people worry about him, noone was obligated to do so and he didn't want anyone to do it but right now, he didn't seem to mind, your attention was on him, worried about him. You finally looked away, placing your glass on the railing, alcohol with a lollipop in the glass, a typical you thing.

"alright, Mattheo," a small smile was tugging at your lips at his actions, "tell me, what's going on?" He didn't have anything to say, what would he say anyway? Upon not receiving an answer you sighed and continued, "Draco was telling me how different you've been-" he scoffed loudly interrupting you, ofcourse this is what it is, Malfoy sending you to talk to him, to scold him like everyone else, ofcourse you wouldn't come to him on your own, he was so fucking worthless in your eyes. “Don’t do that Mattheo-“ “Yeah? Why not? Coming here to scold me like everyone else, you know what, surprise surprise, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” He was angry, you come to talk to him after all these days and it was to tell him, that he’s bad, that he’s wrong, yes, he started it by ignoring you but you didn’t even make an effort to talk to your “friend” while he was away, it pained him to know that you didn’t even care to check up on him.

“No, I am worried Mattheo, this is not okay for you,” you moved closer, shaking your head trying to find the words, “I tried Mattheo, to catch you, to talk to you but you were always turning away, ignoring me, I couldn’t even get a proper look at you these weeks. Draco was joking about you smoking two a day, one for each girl you slept with, it was then but now, a whole pack a day? I tried to get to you, tried to see what’s been hurting you, but all I saw was your back towards me.” You paused, looking around clearly frustrated, “I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk about it, so I stopped trying but I am sorry, I can’t help myself, I care about you Mattheo and I hate to see you like this,” you looked up at him, hoping he’d understand but he only stared at you blankly, maybe you were wrong to care, he clearly didn’t want to be bothered, you sighed yet again, clearly there was no point, you could only wish for him to be better.

You mustered up all the courage you could, moving closer to the brunette who still hadn’t said a thing, “I am sorry for bothering you, I hope you win whatever battle it is that you are fighting, just know that I care and I can’t help but be worried when you are hurting, sorry if it is selfish that I want you to be better, I won’t disturb you anymore” you gave him a small smile, going up on your tiptoes planting a small kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment, holding his hand in both of your own giving it a hard squeeze before letting go. It pained you to see that he didn’t seem to care about his own life, making you feel useless for doing the same, he was dear to you, you didn’t want to let go of him but clearly he didn’t want the same, who were you to deny him of anything? So, you let go, taking the moment in before walking away, the tears were ready to fall, you weren’t going to let him see that, you didn’t want him to see how pent up you were over him when he couldn’t even bring himself to care.

Mattheo could feel his chest burn, he could feel the sting in his heart at the sight of you walking away, his knees felt weak, you cared? You tried to reach out? Yes you did, of course you did, you weren’t the ugly person he tried to paint you as, he wanted to hate you so bad, he wanted you to be wrong, he wanted you to scold him, he wanted you to hate him just so he could move on but no, he could never move on from you, even if you spat his way he’d love you. ‘Sorry if it is selfish-’ he fucking wants you to be selfish, he wants you to be selfish about him. Only if he wasn’t busy imagining you with other guys, maybe he would’ve noticed that you smile a bit more around him, just maybe he’d see your eyes looking out for him. Maybe then he would’ve seen the look in your eyes, one similar to his, but he was a fool, he’d always be unworthy of your love, you wouldn’t love someone like him, he ruled that possibility out the very moment he fell in love with you, thereby in his mind even if you actually loved him, you didn’t because he couldn’t see it.

He called after you, he couldn’t see you walk away, not when he has so much to say. You turned around, he saw tears in your eyes, he felt like dying, it was him who made you cry, if he didn't hate himself before, he clearly did right then. With two wide strides he was infront of you, holding your face, wiping away your tears, "please don't walk away from me," he muttered, trying to get you to look up at him, you look up at him with stars in your eyes, taking his breath away, 'I want you so bad' he thinks to himself but it's false, no, he doesn't simply want you, he fucking needs you like the air you take away from him, when you look at him like that- hazy eyed, making him think that you love him but he knows you don't, he knows you don't love the guys you go on dates with, he knows you don't love the guys you sleep with, in his eyes you love to care but don't care to love, he'll be one of those guys, if it means you'll have him, even if it is for one night.

He was staring at you, looking for a sign, waiting for you to push him away but you just look at him with glossy eyes, making him weak, unable to contain himself he presses his lips against yours, you hiss pulling back, the bitter taste of smoke invading your senses, your reaction hurts him, he couldn't even be one of your guys, that's how worthless he is, his grip loosens, he tastes you on his lips, sweet cherry- the lollipop still sugary on your lips. Then you surprise him, fisting his collar, pulling him down, soft lips on his, like honey against his smoke. He loses it then and there, his hand comes up to hold your face, the other low on your back pulling you flush against him. It was heaven, eyes closed, moving in sync, savouring every second, he could feel his skin tingle, his body burn, it was pathetic how you could bring him to feel so much with the simplest of touches, and now you were kissing him, better than any dream or fantasy, it's real, he reminds himself, frowning as he concentrates trying to capture every single detail, of you against him.

Mattheo walks you back to the railings, not letting go of you even for a second. You pull away as the cold metal makes contact with your body, the sting seeping through the thin layer of your clothes. Still impossibly close practically breathing the same air, then the situation dawns upon you, you look up at Mattheo in horror. This is what has become of your love for him, he's using your attraction towards him to get you into bed, just like he did with other girls. There was no difference in their relationship with him and yours with him, evidently so. You loved kissing him but you hated the fact that it meant everything to you but all it was to him was a one night stand, your dignity would not allow it, even though you wanted him so badly. "I'm- I'm sorry but I can't," you quickly walk off, not looking back this was humiliation, you felt embarrassed.

One moment you were there kissing him and the next you were gone, he fucking hates this because he doesn't know what to do or what made you push him away. You gave him hope when you kissed him but shattered it when you walked away, you were confusing him. Why'd you kiss him like that if you wanted to let go? His hands reach out to pull at his hair, "Fuck" he grits out, it was frustrating not knowing what to do, knowing he has done something wrong. But for the most part, he doesn't know how you feel, you kissed him like you felt something but you walked away like it was nothing. He's over it.

…

He's absolutely not over it. He couldn't even stick to the plan for five seconds, images of you in his arms plagued his mind. He could only cherish that moment, he felt more alive in those few seconds than he ever did, his lips are still tingling, it's the next morning and his head is still in clouds. Mattheo for once, feels human- he feels like going to class again just so he could see you. The wound of your rejection was still fresh in his heart but so was the memory of your lips against his in his mind.

He could handle the professors' taunts, he infact muted them out and zeroed in on your face, you were avoiding him, he could see it, trying so hard just like he did the past few weeks. He saw himself in you for a moment but then you started talking to some Hufflepuff dude next to you, smiling at him so pretty, his blood started burning hot when he saw the guy touch you. You did nothing to push him away, pfft- ofcourse he wasn't Mattheo fucking Riddle that you'd push him away.

Mattheo was practically burning holes into you skull as he took a seat in the very back. Only if he wasn't so overtaken by jealousy he'd see that your smile didn't reach your eyes as you laughed at the Puff's joke, that your reactions were simply polite, a mere distraction from the pinching of your heart. You didn't want to be one of the girls he slept with, didn't want to be discarded after being used.

He couldn't even be one of your guys, he fucking wanted it to be him so bad just to have your for a night, just so you could see him in a different light, just so you'd know that he loved you. He'd gladly be discarded by you.

…

Mattheo has been searching for you, for about an hour now, you were minx- rushing out of the class before he could catch upto you. You were no where to be seen, he was actually getting worried. He was just about to enter the dungeons when he saw Pansy near the entrance. She'd know your whereabouts, she was a close friend of yours. She'd help him too, because she was his friend as well, right? Or had he destroyed every relationship he had the past few weeks. "Pans, a moment please" "oh hey Mattheo," she greeted him with a smile, that's a good sign, "umm- do you know where-" there he was, polite stuttering fucktard, "oh I know where she is," He didn't even tell her who he was looking for, confusion taking over his features, "I saw you looking at her in class, you like her don't you?" Was he that obvious? If so, why couldn't she see it? "Yeah," he finally admitted it to someone else, it was out there now, he felt some weight lift off of his shoulders, there was no denying to it, he loved her and he doesn't care if he gets laughed at for it but then his heart stops at her next words. "She's on a date with some Hufflepuff, in Hogsmeade," her voice was sympathetic, hurt was painted all over his face.

They were standing there in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before she broke it, heading towards the entrance, "You know you should tell her," she gave him a small smile, she patted his back ready to slip into the entrance, he stopped her "Why? Did she say something about me?" His voice was full of hope, hoping that maybe she had confessed to her friend just like he did right then but to add onto his sorrow, Pansy shook her head, he let his head hang low, moving his hand over his face, scoffing bitterly at the situation he was in, "but you should still tell her, at least you'll be satisfied knowing that you did something about it than do nothing." She shrugged walking in, leaving him there to think about her words.

She is right. He has to know, to know how you feel, he has to talk to you, has to let you know how he feels because in his heart, there's hope that you may like him back because you kissed him like you did. Mattheo wants to confirm that it wasn't his delusions that rendered your lips to move against his in adoration, something more than just physical. He has to hold you again in his arms-

He didn't even have to walk far away to find you, walking alone in the empty corridor but you turn around as you see him. Mattheo won't let you do that this time, he's onto you within seconds grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. "What-" "Please don't ignore me-" "I am not!" You sound defensive, taking your hand back, folding them as you look at him as though he is some lowlife human, there's a similar hurt in your eyes, one he knows a bit too well. "Yes you are, please don't try to deny it," he says slowly and carefully, he doesn't want you to walk away, "what do you want Mattheo?" You are annoyed, you stretch out his name showing your impatience. He takes his sweet time though, taking your hands in his, they feel cold, snatching away the warmthness of the action, "Why did you walk away? Yesterday?" "Why? Is there some rule against it-""no no ofcourse not-" both of you interrupting each other, you were frustrated, what was he trying to do? Did his ego take such a huge hit that you didn't want to sleep with him, like those girls he used and discarded? "Tell me why is it that you care? It's not a huge deal to you, you can have anyone else to sleep with you, it shouldn't matter that one girl decided to walk away when you have tens and hundreds lining up-" "WHAT?" He was looking at as though you were saying something ridiculous, "I cared about our relationship enough not to ruin it but you had to be there, trying to use me like you use the other girls and then discard me-" "STOP!" He holds your face in his hands, intense gaze setting you ablaze, "I fucking care, don’t think otherwise, I care because it's you, you could never be them-"

"wow- am I so worthless and unattractive in your eyes that you don't even-" "Wait, it should be me saying all of this, about you and the guys you on dates with, the guys you take to bed-" "What guys-" you both were now screaming at eachother, it was overwhelming, having to be vulnerable and admit your feelings and not understand what the person in front of you is saying. "I have not once slept with the guys I went on dates with, I'm in love with you for fucks sake but I got tired of waiting for you to love me," What.

He fucked up.

"Fuck, fuck-" his knees hit the ground as he covers his face with his hands, he's ruined all his chances by being an assuming dickhead. Heavens goodness- "FUCK!" He groans into his palms, not being able to digest what you had just said, he feels ecstatic that you love him but he hates that he's ruined his chances with you, "Mattheo-" "Fuck, I am so sorry, I've been a fool, a fucking idiot-" he pulls you down, grabbing your hands, crying because he doesn't know any other way to express it. He has lost his chance all because he let jealousy get the best of him, took illogical steps to overcome it. "I love you, I fucking am in love with you," he grips your hands tight, shaking them as he speaks, unable to control his very physical reaction, "Mattheo what-" "I thought that I could fuck it all out, fuck all the feelings away but no you were always on my mind, not just you but you with someone else, happy. I thought maybe I could resort to your ways, thought maybe I could sleep around then I'd get rid of my feelings, afterall you seemed happy doing it but you never- FUCK! I am so fucking sorry, I love you-" you kiss him, he sure was an idiot to think that you could just flip a switch and "unlove" him, what kind of love would that be? You hated to admit it, you loved him even when he was sleeping with so many girls, you loved him before he did that, a few weeks were nothing to make you hate him.

It was brief kiss, enough to silence him, tears were still running down his face- he was a heartbroken man on his knees afterall- they were only a sign of his regret, then he was at it again, apologising, "stop Mattheo, you are foolish if you think that I'll love one moment and not love you the next-" "but you don't deserve it, not after what I did-" "let me decide that. Do you love me?" Your ask is serious, so he answers you with utmost sincerity, his words soft, full of truth "I love you, more than I think I can handle," he looks down, you don't let him as you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him close, "Learn to handle it then, I am not going anywhere." For the first time in his life, does Mattheo experience pure bliss, you are a sin against his lips, he pulls you closer like a prayer because if there's a god above, he'd pray for you to be his.

...

[lauraneedstochill]

Confess the longing you are dreaming of

summary: Aemond thinks the woman he has to marry is the most impudent and unsufferable he’s ever met. He’s also never wanted anyone so badly. pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Martell!reader (third person, no mention of Y/N) warnings: bantering and teasing, mentions of unpleasant sexual experience, praise kink (guess who’s got it), a dollop of softness, mild smut (... for starters ;) author’s note: couldn’t get the idea out of my head and spent a few sleepless nights writing this. I imagine her brothers as Pedro Pascal and Oscar Isaac ✨ words: ~8000 song inspo: Hozier — Better love

>>> Aemond isn’t present when the idea is voiced the first time — he has a hunch that his grandsire is to blame for that. No doubt, Otto was the one to plan it out, come up with arguments served with his persuasive tone. He’s always loved to make arrangements and strike deals, each one of them to play into his hands, and Aemond hates the thought of being just another pawn of his.

He is blindsided at the breakfast but it’s made sound carelessly mundane — as Otto puts down his cup, he throws him the proposal, the way one would leniently throw alms to the poor. And Aemond thinks he must’ve heard him wrong.

“Marry me to... Who?” the prince asks, hardly covering his surprise.

His grandsire directs his gaze at him, the old man’s mouth twitching into a condescending smile. Since Otto isn’t keen on idle talk, he tells him plainly:

“You’ve long been of age, Aemond, you know that,” his knife scratches the plate as he cuts the meat, his eyes not moving from the prince. “House Martell holds power, and we’ll be fortunate to have such allies. Besides,” he pauses to take a bite, and Aemond gets annoyed at waiting; Otto chews, then adds, “I’ve only heard good things about your bride-to-be. Wouldn’t you confirm, Ser Criston?”

The mention of the knight is unexpected to them both — Aemond turns his head to meet Ser Criston’s puzzled look. But the brunet effortlessly copes with his emotions:

“We met when she was just a kid. But I knew she’d grow into a fine lady,” he easily agrees. Mayhaps, too easily for Aemond’s liking so he makes a note to talk about it later on.

His grandsire only lets out a pleased hum. “Well, I’m under the impression she will make a good match for our prince,” and Aemond feels that Otto carefully picks each word, “She’s said to be both beautiful and smart, and known for being quite independent,” he’s usually so stingy with his praise, it’s worth its weight in gold.

But that is not what Aemond hears. The choice was made for him, and his rejection of it makes him paint a portrait less alluring — a pompous wayward woman raised in the traditions that are starkly different from his; and yet, it is expected of him to accept it freely. His wounded ego simmers at the thought.

“I’d add another word to that,” Aegon chimes in, half-drunk already, “Everyone knows the Martells to also be promisc—”

“Look who’s talking,” Otto glares at him, and Aegon shuts his mouth.

The word is left unsaid, only the meaning of it isn’t hard to guess, and Aemond feels embarrassment creeping up his cheeks and weighting down his chest. He deems himself an educated man, well-read and eager to put his knowledge to the test, but he has yet to learn of carnal pleasures. A memory is clawing out: him, ten-and-three and plied with wine, laid on a bed that smelled of sweat, a naked woman next to him. Despite her tireless attempts, he wanted none of it, and the repulsion made him sick — and then it made him hate the act itself.

He did go to the brothel through the years, tried watching, touching, looked at bodies of all sorts, only it felt like putting paint over a rotten wall. He felt constrained, and lacking in some way (perhaps, in many), and more so awfully incomplete. Not once he sensed a spark, a pleasure he would crave, and no amount of effort could help him fill the emptiness inside.

He quells the feeling, pushes in indifference instead, and glances briefly at his mother. She meets his eye but only grants him a faint smile, her own gaze lacking any protest.

“Her brothers wrote that they would visit in a fortnight,” Alicent peacefully explains. “It is our duty to ensure a royal welcome.”

“Brothers?” Helaena blithely chirps. “How many does she have?”

“Four but only two of them are coming,” Otto tells her softly, then looks at Aemond, adding in a voice more wily. “I am convinced they really want to see whom their dear sister is about to marry.”

He doesn’t spell it out but the implication can’t be clearer — Aemond must play the part and make a good impression. As if impressing just one stranger wasn’t tedious enough.

As if he isn’t vexed already by how unsuitable he finds her.

>>> Frustration grows in Aemond with each day, takes roots, and clogs up all his thoughts. Some other man would’ve been glad — he often heard that the Martells are quite the lovers. He can’t admit it to himself how much he’s bothered by his own misfortunes on the love field.

He bottles his emotions up and doesn’t utter any word of discontent, nor does he ever speak of the awaited visit. Although he makes just one exception.

“My grandsire mentioned that you knew her,” he reminds Ser Criston one day after training.

The knight nods. “I crossed paths with Quentyn, he’s the oldest. She used to come to watch us train.”

“What was she like?” Aemond carefully wonders.

Ser Criston ponders for a minute, polishing his sword. “She was a quiet little girl, kept to herself. A lot of boys were always chasing after her, and she paid them all no mind,” he smiles at the memory. “But I remember one of them who was... particularly pesky. His charms didn’t work on her so he got offended, rude, followed her around. She tolerated him for over a month. One morning, he was hassling her in the training yard, and she just took a spear laying nearby — and smacked him with no warning,” he shakes his head but it’s apparent that he isn’t judging. “She didn’t use the pointy end but she got him good. And then she told him that next time he would think twice about his actions. She was impressive for a ten-year-old,” he muses and puts the sword away, then turns to Aemond, giving him a wistful stare. “Frankly, I think that you will like her.”

He does, for just a second, as his mind rushes to paint the image of a fearless little girl; and then he mercilessly wipes that image off. Maybe in other circumstances, he could’ve found amusement in that story, but Aemond only huffs and thinks back to the list of all her traits he prematurely made up. He adds “rebellious” to that list, and his self-doubt is a venom that clouds his judgment. He’s in no rush to find a cure.

>>> Their ship arrives a few hours earlier than planned — and after the dock watchers break the news, the bustle begins. Maids, servants, guards all run and faff about the castle, the dining hall gets filled with smells and noises, plates and dishes clanking.

Aemond is not excited in the slightest.

He dresses up reluctantly, each piece of clothes only dampening his mood that’s been already sour for the past two weeks. He all but drags his feet into the dining hall and by the time he reaches it, he looks so grim that one may think the prince’s preparing for his death, no less.

The minutes fly too quickly for his liking — they barely have time to sit, his mother nervously toying with the tablecloth already, and then the guards rush to announce the guests. Surprisingly, she’s not among them. The prince thinks he should be relieved; deep down, there is a splash of worry fizzling in him.

Her brothers walk in calmly in a cloud of servants bearing gifts. Their kinship is immediately clear — both tall, broad-shouldered, and dark-haired, self-confidence subsisting in their every step. The oldest is distinguished by a touch of gray in his short beard, his gaze more focused, a slight smile plastered on his face. The other one shamelessly stares at every maid his eyes can catch.

“Your grace, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” Quentyn reaches their table first, and Alicent walks down to greet them. He keeps his distance and his smile, his tone is measured. “We were so sad to learn that the King has fallen sick. But I can tell the Kingdom is in great hands. And —”

“Women’s hands do have a healing touch,” Oberyn smoothly interrupts, his accent a bit thicker, his voice honeyed. “I will prefer a Queen over a King at any given day. Unless, of course, your husband can compete with you in beauty... I somehow doubt that.”

A shade of disapproval grazes Quentyn’s face but Alicent is too amazed to notice. The compliment may come off as blunt but she still takes it well, her smile embarrassed yet sincere.

“I hope you will enjoy your stay,” she tells them humbly, then looks over the crowd. “But may I ask where is the lady we’ve been waiting for?”

“She made a stop on our way to catch up with an old friend,” Quentyn answers, ready to explain, “It’s been years since we’ve met Ser —”

“Still can’t believe he is the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard,” Oberyn chuckles. “I think it’s all the armor that makes it look like he poses a threat. But you may reconsider if you see him in the nude.”

This time, the older brother glares at him with warning, and there’s a lull in their conversation, while Aemond’s struggling to hear what made his mother’s cheeks so red, his mind nervously preoccupied with someone else —

her laughter enters first.

It’s bright and joyful, a sound so lovely it might be enough to crack up his restraint. But then he spots her, and it feels like his whole body flares up at the sight.

She’s walking with her hand under Ser Criston’s arm, and Aemond’s never seen a dress that covers so much but hides so little. It’s muted orange, floor-length, made of sumptuous silk, with two long slits along the sides, curves of her thighs beguilingly seen through. Her neck and arms aren’t covered, and the material is intricately stitched around her waist to show a few more glimpses of her sun-kissed skin. The waves of her long hair fall on her shoulders and frame her face, each feature of it striking but her lips stand out the most — full, plump, and reddish. Not once before Aemond found the thought of being kissed so tempting.

She doesn’t even turn her head to look at him. She’s talking to Ser Criston quietly, and he’s engaged in conversation, unusually relaxed. Their difference in age is obvious, and the knight seems like just another relative of hers, but an uneasy feeling still leaves a bite on Aemond’s chest. He can’t imagine her so carefree — so beaming and compliant — by his side. His jealousy tastes bitter like a stale wine.

He hears his brother let out a short laugh. “It’s not like they were fucking,” Aegon carelessly notes. “Please ease your outrage before she runs away.”

“I don’t remember asking for advice,” Aemond snarls.

“You do look like you need it,” the blond comments, then goes back to drinking.

She gracefully approaches them, her voice melodic like a murmur of a river. “Forgive me, your grace, for being late, I haven’t seen Ser Criston in some time,” she tells his mother. “He was once a dear friend of mine.”

“I only helped to shush away a few of your admirers,” the knight cackles, earning a smile from her.

“I hope you are making use of all his talents,” she says to the Queen, making her face flush right away.

She delicately moves on to another topic. “It is a pleasure to have you here, you must be tired from taking such a long trip.”

“We found it quite enjoyable,” Quentyn remarks politely. “The beautiful sights along the way are worth the journey, and your city has some great views too.”

“Can’t say I’ve heard great things about your food,” Oberyn grins. “Hence why we took the liberty to bring some of our own,” he signals to the nearest servant, who runs to open one of the trunks they carried. “The dornish fruits are also my sister’s weak spot.”

“As if you don’t gorge yourself on them!” she jests, letting go of Ser Criston’s arm at last. “My brother is a glutton, your grace, please excuse his manners in advance.”

“You can call me Alicent,” his mother corrects her warmly. “Only seems fair to continue this discussion at the table,” she slightly moves away to let the girl go first.

Aemond unintentionally stiffens and only when he stands up from his chair to greet her, she finally does look at him. In contrast to her countenance, her gaze is dark and piercing, and the prince is staggered by how unreadable it is. Her brothers glance at Aemond briefly — Quentyn is pensive, while Oberyn looks like he wants to bite his head off; neither says a word.

She’s seated to his right, and she leaves behind a trail of scent — apples and plums, and he can’t help but catch the movement of her hips under the flowing dress. The words all mash and fall apart, and he can’t pick a single one to strike up a conversation.

Aegon is sitting next to her, and his patience only lasts a minute. “Never knew Ser Criston was such a ladies' man.”

“I’m sure he succeeded on that front but we are merely good friends,” she answers calmly, keeping her eyes on servants bringing fruits — blood oranges and pomegranates, robust grapes, and ripened cherries.

“You two seemed more than friendly,” Aegon presses, his tone evidently taunting.

She picks a golden apricot and runs her thumb over its fragrant surface. “Maybe it’s the wine that makes you see things,” she rebuts and takes a bite out of the fruit, a drop of juice risking to escape her mouth but she wipes it swiftly with her finger. She catches Aemond looking, and his cheeks heat up.

“We’ve never seen him in the company of a woman,” the older prince points out, filling up his cup once more.

She takes out the kernel and eats up the fruit, her mouth glistens. “Aren’t the knights of the Kingsguard forbidden to marry?”

“Never stopped them from bedding whoever they like,” Aegon remarks crudely, and Aemond is thankful that their mother is too preoccupied with Oberyn’s tireless chatting.

“Maybe some men have the decency to follow orders,” she responds, unbothered, taking a cherry and clasping it with her lips. Aegon doesn’t seem to notice and only gulps the wine and rolls his eyes. Aemond can’t look away.

“Aren’t you Martells known for not following the rules? I thought unruly was in your house’s motto,” Aegon argues, a corner of his mouth curled in a smirk.

She takes another cherry, the third in a row, her lips already stained with juice. “I think you keep getting your facts wrong,” she brushes him off, and Aegon goes to object some more but spills the wine right on his shirt. The displeased cry brings Aemond out of his trance.

“He tends to do that when he’s drunk,” the one-eyed prince coolly interjects.

Her eyes flicker to him, then she fully turns her head. “So you can actually talk,” her teasing comes off soft but her gaze still burns. “It’s good to know.”

“You seemed preoccupied with someone else,” he musters an excuse.

“Do you expect your wife to never speak to other men?” her voice almost betrays her disenchantment.

“No,” Aemond quickly answers, caught unawares by how strained his thinking process is. “She— you are free to choose your friends, of course.”

“I’m flattered,” her tone suggesting otherwise, “Not that I would ask for anyone’s approval,” she reaches for a plum; he closes his eye with a sigh.

Aegon comes to stand in between them on the pretext of needing another carafe of wine: “I didn’t mean to interrupt your friendly bickering, please continue.”

“It seems like Aemond isn’t in the mood for talking,” she doesn’t look at him, the tip of her tongue darting to lick her finger. “And I am never in the mood for begging.”

“My brother’s hospitality leaves much to be desired,” Aegon takes a sip. “So I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer,” his hand falls on her chair. “But if you ever wish to be... well satisfied, all you have to do is ask me”.

It’s hard to tell if Aegon’s actually that drunk or merely provoking (or if he’s got a death wish, Aemond wonders).

She replies without much thought. “Well, if I ever find myself in need of...,” she trails off with a smile but her gaze gets harsh — her words then follow, “My choice won’t fall on you,” the smirk falls off Aegon’s face, and she glances straight at Aemond, adding, “I like them taller.”

But her straightforwardness is met with his resistance, with the deep-rooted unacceptance of his lurking needs. He adds “indecent” to the list, and they speak no more.

>>> Her boldness doesn’t pose a problem to anyone but him. To his surprise (or more so to his shock), his mother gives in first.

The morning can’t come fast enough for Aemond after he spends the night tossing and turning. A few hours later he rushes to the garden for a walk, overwhelmed by restlessness his training didn’t help him cope with. That’s when he sees it — a spot of yellow shining through the trees. He somehow knows it’s her without further confirmation but still, his feet carry him on.

Her dress is vivid like a field of marigolds, her hair plaited, wrists adorned with golden bracelets. He slackens pace and peers into her — and he wants nothing more than to drink her up, her whole appearance is the sweetest nectar... Until he hears another sound and realizes she is not alone, and it’s his mother sitting by her side, wrapped in her favorite green and, unexpectedly, in glee. He can’t remember when he saw her laugh like this — out loud, giggling, tears at the corners of her eyes are not from sadness but from joy.

“My dear, that is so improper! Did he apologize at least?” Alicent inquires with a smile.

“Oberyn rarely does,” she tells her serenely. “His lover looked way more ashamed. I hope each of your rooms has locks, gods know I don’t want to walk in on him again.”

Unlike his mother who is covered by the shade of trees, she’s bathing in the sun, the soft light caressing her skin, and Aemond’s eye greedily follows every ray. In barely a minute he feels warm all over.

“I hope that Aemond’s chambers got locks too,” she adds all of a sudden, a bit louder, and his chest is splashed with cold.

His eye moves to her face, and she’s already looking at him, direct and daring. He knows he’s hidden by the trees but there’s no hiding from her gaze.

Aemond turns away and steps back in haste, his abashment mixed with grievance at her implication. He believes someone like her would never lust for him, and her jokes at his expense not only hurt but prompt his resentment to grow stronger. He adds “deceptive” to the portrait of her he is so adamantly set on painting.

>>> She wins Helaena’s heart with ease. His sister fondly compliments her brooch — a little poppy made out of gold — and she gifts it to Helaena the same day. The silver-haired princess grabs at chance to show her own collection, and they spend the day looking through the jewels spread over the floor, sitting right there and equally amused.

And that’s how Aemond finds them. He only planned to see his nephews but hearing her voice coming from Helaena’s chambers makes him slow his step.

“... And this one he gave me for my latest name day,” Helaena babbles cheerfully.

“Aemond clearly spoils you,” she laughs without a shade of envy. “As he should!”

“He is very kind at heart,” Helaena eagerly assures her. “You will be happy with him, I am certain of it.”

There is a pause that makes him feel uneasy, makes him sneak up closer to the room.

“I do believe he’s not an evil man,” she finally says, “Maybe he just wasn’t made for marriage.”

Surely she can’t see him through the door but he can swear that he feels her gaze, like a silent challenge, a hidden mocking. He barges in without a knock.

Helaena beams. “We were just talking about you!”

His sister’s dress is milky blue, modestly pretty, and loosely fitted. It’s also treacherously pale compared to the liquid gold the Martell girl is dressed in. She’s sitting with her feet under her thighs, the bending of her back is bare and in plain sight. He should’ve walked away the second he heard the sound of her voice because not looking at her seems impossible.

“Oh, you came to see the twins? They are with Aegon but I can call— No, I will bring them back myself,” Helaena springs to her feet, rosy-cheeked and smiley, and leaves the room before Aemond can protest. And then it’s just the two of them.

He takes a breath and makes an effort, with his jaw tense and his blood rising, to drag his eye away from her. It feels as pointless as ignoring sunlight in an open field on a summer day. Only her beauty is more brazen — and so is her wit.

“I take it, gold isn’t your favorite color,” she speaks up with an impish tone. “Would be a bad idea to wear it on our wedding then.”

She never comes too close, always just a little out of reach, and yet he feels as if her presence grips him, weakening his will. He doesn’t want to be with her until he is — and then he has no wish to leave.

It scares Aemond as much as it spikes his anger.

“Why did you agree to come?” he bristles.

“You are not asking about your sister’s chambers, are you?” she clarifies, and he hears her smiling.

He tells himself he only needs to cast a glance to check.

He does — he meets her gaze — her earrings catch the sunlight and cast a trail of glares — the scattering of specks play on her skin, her neck and collarbones, sneak to her upper chest — his own is heaving. His struggle only lasts a moment but it leaves him short of breath. He isn’t looking anymore, his eye trying to discern the pattern on the drapes behind her.

“Our marriage, how do you benefit from it?” he hates how hard it is to control his voice.

And how she watches him intently without giving him a clue of what’s on her mind.

“I plan on visiting my family a couple of times a year. It will be easier to do on dragon back,” she doesn’t sound spiteful when she says it but her words still sting.

He can’t stop an image flashing through his mind: her on top of Vhagar, lungs full of air, pressed to him. It’s tempting — to have her in his hands, and yet the vision is too intangible to cling to. Instead, he thinks that in just three days she learned to play him like a harp, his years' worth of self-control is merely a sand castle against the tide of her sharp tongue.

He only snickers dryly at her reply, then they both hear the sound of running footsteps. Jaehaera and Jaehaerys rush to greet him — but almost instantly abandon, the kids' attention drawn to the shining golden dress.

He thinks “unruly” suits her better than does “pompous”. He comes up with a fake excuse to leave; the image of her stays with him.

>>> He picks more adjectives as the week goes on — she’s audacious, disobedient, wanton. She moves around the castle as if she owns every room she’s in. She wears less, and even on rare occasions when she doesn’t, her defiance more than compensates for it. She never shies away from a deep neckline, nor does she feel the need to hold back her resounding laughs. Her jewelry clinks, each of her dresses is brighter than the other, but it’s her wicked mouth his eye always falls on first.

More times than not, Aemond can’t tear his gaze away, each meal for him now both a torture and a feast.

He watches as she parts her lips, puts them around a luscious grape, a cherry, or a peach, she swipes her tongue to lick up every running drop, savoring its tang — and keeps eye contact with him. He barely can taste the food he’s eating, and no wine can quench his thirst, his body flooding with a feeling he can’t define, his heart adrift.

He tries to fight it off with all our strength. He scratches off “unruly” to write down “unabashed” instead.

But then the dinner comes, and even though he’s never had a taste for sweets, he thinks he’d eat them from her lips (deep down, he wants to). The lies he tells himself are brittle like the flesh of fruits under her teeth.

>>> He comes to think “insufferable” fits her the best. That thought rings in his head while he is standing in the stable, his eye on anything but her. He was informed she wished to pick a horse, and he begrudgingly agreed to come, only to keep up the pretense.

What turns out to be much harder is for him to keep restraint. The dress she’s wearing might as well be a chemise — it’s just as light and white, and much to his discomfort, it also tirelessly risks hiking up to expose more of her legs.

Discomfort, mayhaps, isn’t the right word for it.

He stays out of her way but, unsurprisingly, he ends up looking — at how she walks, spring in her step, swinging her hips. She gives each horse a piece of apple and feeds them by hand, strokes their muzzles, and then she mounts and rides them, one by one. She grabs the reins, her foot easily finds the stirrup, and as she swings her leg over the saddle, her dress slips up, showing a few inches of her skin.

He swallows thickly, glances more intently — over her dainty ankles, bending of her knees, he notes how smooth her skin is, soaking up the sun. Her dress then billows slightly, and his eye glides higher, hungry, follows up the contour of her thighs that bounce a little as the horse gallops.

He feels it blooming — a sensation with no name that travels from the lower chest down to his very navel, then spreads and tightens all that’s underneath.

He is so deep in his enthrallment, he doesn’t hear the steps approaching until there’s someone standing next to him. Quentyn stays silent for a minute, throwing him a sideways glance.

“My sister’s always been terribly picky,” the man says out of the blue, “And usually it’s hard to meet all of her demands,” — it doesn’t seem like it’s the horses he is talking of. The vagueness of it makes Aemond focus as he takes his eye off her but Quentyn doesn’t elaborate, giving him a smile instead. “I do admit, your patience is commendable. Some other man would’ve already interfered just to wrap the process up.”

“I was under the impression she doesn’t need anyone’s help,” Aemond replies evasively.

“You guessed it right,” Quentyn titters, his tone veiled with the same unclear meaning when he adds, “The only thing left for us all is to accept it,” and with that, he goes to join his sister.

When Aemond — tamely, almost yielding — takes a peek at her, his gaze collides with Oberyn’s who clearly watched them talk. Unlike his older brother, he prefers to stay away, but the mischief in him pairs really well with danger. He grants Aemond a nod, switching attention back to her, his threats unspoken for the meantime.

For just a second, it gives Aemond pause as he finds it odd that no one brings up their wedding, and no announcements have been made ever since she came. He doesn’t mull over it for long because her laughter interrupts his thoughts (or maybe he just yearns for any chance to look at her). She rides around the yard, her hair floating in the wind, a little breathless but breathtaking, her lips enticing and her curves making his throat dry.

He tries to ground himself, to look for explanations, for some reprieve from the entrancing spell he’s under — he’s never been so close to losing reason —

out of the corner of his eye, he sees a couple of guards dropping their gaze in poor attempts to stop themselves from gawking; it reins his passion, bringing back his jealousy instead. He’s way too used to seeing himself unworthy to even entertain the thought of having her, and his denial prickles. He wants to burn his feelings out, and anger helps with that — it breaks out and engulfs him fast, hardening both his heart and gaze.

“Quentyn is the friendliest of the two, and you couldn’t hold a conversation?” Aegon appears out of nowhere, seemingly displeased despite the bottle in his hand. “Must you always be so gruff? I stayed behind in hopes you’d make it work!” he waves at Oberyn then glares at Aemond, waiting for a reply. “Are you pretending to be deaf or...?”

“Must she test my patience?” Aemond mutters, his tone not jealous but exasperated, his eye boring into her, “Putting herself out like that for all the men to see.”

Aegon being speechless is a rare sight. He cannot fathom it at first, looking from Aemond back to her, confusion sobering him up. And then he grins, realization creeping up on him; there are some things he’s always quick to notice.

“It’s funny that you say that,” he leans in to tell him and catches Aemond’s gaze, “Since it’s just you who’s staring,” Aegon pats him on the back and leaves to greet her brothers.

Aemond tries to choke it down — his irritation and his shame combined, but it’s too much for him to handle, his head and heart clearly in conflict. He doesn’t wait for her to make a choice, retiring without sparing her a glance (a fear nibs at him that if he looks at her once more, he will stay rooted to the ground).

He doesn’t leave his chambers for the remainder of the day, dining all alone and fuming all the same. He’s usually good at curbing his emotions but he is having trouble understanding them, wanting nothing more than to erase all memories of her. But even in his solitude, he catches himself thinking — about her cunning smile and swaying hips, her eyes on him, his hands wanting to roam and touch and —

Aemond shoves unwanted thoughts away and goes to bed earlier than usual. He remains steadfast in his resolve to find some peace, he makes a conscious effort to shift his focus to all the boring, random things his mind can come up with until he is too tired to care.

But then he falls asleep, and his subconscious welcomes her. He sees her right before his eye in that obscenely short white dress, there are no people in the yard, her tantalizing moves all meant for him. She hops off her black horse and walks to him without a single word — anticipation makes him drop his guard and hold his breath — and then he feels her lips on his, her body pressing into him, his hunger for her ruining his self-control, the kiss is searing, suffocating, driving him insane, his fingers pulling up her dress —

he wakes up painfully aroused.

He lays in bed, his heartbeat rushing, his breathing ragged, and vision blurred. While he’s still grasping for the remnants of his dream, he sneaks his hand into his breeches, wishing he could rip her dress off and sheath himself inside her, spread her on his bed, and drink every salacious sound she makes... It only takes him a few strokes to spill over his fingers; he can’t remember if he’s ever reached his peak so fast.

And only then, as he comes down from his high, it hits him, like lightning in the dark — in spite of her remarks, her audacity, her dresses, and every cruel adjective he’s found for her, he’s never wanted anyone so badly. Aemond sits up abruptly, his sleep gone, giving way to stubbornness that comes hand in hand with reticence. He persuades himself that he’ll suppress this — the spark, the pleasure that he craves, and he won’t be a slave to his desires.

He’ll rid himself of feelings, of this lust. Inevitably it will wane.

>>> It doesn’t.

Desire is a guest that never leaves, unwanted but demanding space, attention, time. It slips into his thoughts the moment he wakes up, it whispers in his ears, never giving up, it’s layered in between his clothes and his skin. He hides it well from everyone; it lodges deeper into him.

Desire is a cherry in her mouth, each fruit she bites in, savors, drinks the juice from. He doesn’t want to watch — he can’t take his eye off her, caught in his fervor like in undertow, the flavor of her lips the only one he truly yearns for.

Desire bruises more than does a hit, cuts deeper than a blade, and there’s no weapon he can fight it off with. His training brings him no relief, and he can’t sweat it out or wash it off him, and even while he soaking in a bath, it feels like longing only rises back with steam.

Desire waits for him at night, stands by his bed, slides right under the covers with him. He dreams of her, and in those dreams, her body sings under his every touch, trembles from his praise, his hands and mouth paint her with marks and kisses. He wakes up with his chest aflame and out of breath, and then it takes all of his willpower not to crawl to her.

It staggering how much he really wants her, and he hates himself for it.

>>> It’s been three weeks and they have barely shared a word. He does his best to cut down their encounters and avoid her, he doesn’t argue and takes no offense, he hopes that if he pulls back just enough she will give up and let him be.

Aemond spends his evenings in the study, his table piled with books, and for a couple of hours, it does help to take his mind off things. The night already steals in while he’s searching through the shelves for scrolls, too caught up in the process to pick up the creaking of his door.

Her gaze nearly scalds him. He only looks up out of surprise — and then he freezes at the spot, his heart a stone that plummets to his stomach.

Out of everything she’s worn, this dress might be the one to bring him to his knees — the cutting out the front so low, his eye falls in the hollow between her breasts; he envies fervently the golden chain that rests there. He takes in her whole body, bare arms, and flaunting forms, all clad in deep dark green. He’s never seen her pick that color (and he can’t help but think she put it on for him).

He’s brought back from his stupor when their eyes meet — and startled by the determination in her gaze.

“Ser Criston told me that you missed your training,” she stately starts walking toward him, “Quite a few times this week.”

“I found myself preoccupied with other things,” he clears his throat and clasps his hands behind his back, the scrolls forgotten.

“With reading, I assume?” she almost sounds aggrieved (he wants to ask what else she’d rather have him do) but then her tone gets jaunty. “Would you mind if I join?”

“Actually, I would,” Aemond takes his eye off her, his coldness feigned. “I’d like to avoid distractions.”

And more than anything, he would like for her to leave; she’s not the one to give up so easily. “Maybe we can learn some things together?” she nonchalantly insists, and that ambiguity — deliberate or not — leaves his face suffused with pink.

“I highly doubt you take interest in the things I study,” he manages, his crudeness biting his own tongue.

She only sneers, already nearing his table. “You surely rush to judgment.”

“And I am never wrong.” (Although he’s been wrong once before.)

“That’s very humble of you.” (And she’s tenacious with her intent to prove him wrong again.)

“I am surprised you know that word,” he replies too hastily — and instantly regrets his outburst.

And his attempts to get away from her could’ve been valiant, but only left him feeling like a coward.

She’s got enough courage to spare. “Oh, my apologies, did I strike a nerve?” her hip grazes a stack of books. “You sound so displeased with my behavior,” she puts her hands right on his table, her cleavage in full view.

“You interrupted my studies,” he’s looking only at her face.

“Just this one time,” she clears up, her sly smile is a dare, “Sounds like you have quite a few complaints.”

Damned be her dress and the day he laid his eye on her. “It’s clear as day that we have nothing in common,” he hisses, her persistence molding his anger. “From your bawdy humor to your reckless behavior and your...,” he struggles to push the word through his mouth, “vulgar dresses — everything suggests that we will never make a good couple.”

He catches a gleam in her gaze but it’s not threatening nor hurt — and when the corners of her mouth curl up, her face expression actually looks amused. “I didn’t realize my presence tormented you that much,” she crosses arms over her chest, her hands under her breasts; he looks away that very instant. “So will it please you if I take my vulgar dresses and go back home and leave you be?”

He wants to say it will — he’s thought of it for days — but now he isn’t sure. The dreams he has of her will hardly be enough as every image he collected has got nothing on the real form.

“Is there anything that does?” she asks him suddenly and takes a step in his direction, and then another one.

Belatedly, he realizes that he’s backed against the wall. The air in the room heats up, and Aemond moves back to his table, fingers holding to its edge to find some balance. “...Does what?”

“Please you,” she swiftly clarifies, now standing at arm’s length.

“That isn’t any of your concern,” he wants to glance away and yet, his eye is drawn to her.

“I am inclined to disagree,” her lips stretch into a smile. “Shouldn’t a wife know how to make her husband feel good?”

“We are not married yet,” he tries to argue weakly.

“I’d like to learn beforehand,” but her assertiveness works quicker than his doubts.

The time is still, and seconds drag like hours. His heart leaps at the thought of being all alone with her, his concentration crumbling, his self-restraint already hanging by a thread.

“The way you look at me suggests you aren’t averse to the idea,” she tells him in a low voice, her eyes two glowing embers. Aemond gulps, she deftly rounds the table. “You act so cold and so collected,” she muses, coming closer, and he helplessly steps back. “But I am yet to meet a man who would deny himself the pleasure of laying with a woman,” her voice is warm and warming; his legs bump into the chair, prompting him to sit.

He hesitates for barely a moment but his quick reaction fails him because the next thing he knows, she’s standing next to him, her golden chain casting a blinding glint — he blinks — and then she’s straddling him, her thighs on either side of his.

Aemond’s mouth falls slack as he becomes aware: to lift her he will have to touch her. He glances down at her legs that sneaked out through the long slits of her dress, all bare to the very hips before him.

“I wonder if you are too spoiled by the attention of the ladies? Mayhaps you’ve got so satiated, the intimacy doesn’t bring you any joy,” she runs her fingers up his chest.

He only finds it in himself to shake his head. She isn’t satisfied with that reaction. “Or do you simply find it boring and have a taste for something else?”

Objection bubbles in his throat but he gets no chance to voice it — he barely registers a clinking sound before he feels cold steel pressed under his chin, her fingers wrapped around the hilt of his own dagger. He meant to leave it at the training yard but it completely slipped his mind.

“Does this work better? I’ve heard that you Targaryens have peculiar tastes,” her other hand lands on his shoulder, his chest is stirring with emotions he can’t read.

“That’s not— No,” he mumbles, his voice raw, the weight and feeling of her body overwhelming.

She cocks her brow at him in disbelief. “No? So it’s just plain old satiation then?” she makes no attempt to press the blade but her questions do get pushy. “Must be so hard when women throw themselves at you ever since you were... What was it, ten? Twelve years of age?”

He would expect her to sound teasing — instead, he hears disappointment. That’s the reaction he is used to getting.

“My brother took me to a pleasure house when I was ten-and-three. He said it’s time to get it wet,” he forces out, “And it was...,” awful and humiliating, something he wishes to forget, “...Not what you are describing.”

Her face expression changes — first surprised, then splashed with sadness, and her every feature softens. Aemond sees her opening her mouth to speak but he averts his gaze, abasement scrabbling at him. His eye falls closed, and he keeps thinking that now she will get up and leave, and there won’t be any wedding, and he’s got no reason to get so overly upset already, and —

she sheathes his dagger without a word, the unexpected movement making him breathe out.

And then she dips her head down, and her lips fall on his jaw. Aemond inhales sharply. Her mouth feels softer than it was in all his dreams, and she plants kisses down his throat, moving to the part of it the blade was pressed to. He doesn’t know where to put his hands while hers lock nimbly around his neck.

She pulls back slowly, and he dares to look at her again, trying to catch the merest shadow of pretense but there is none.

“I am truly sorry that you had to go through that,” she tells him quietly. “Have you tried some more since then?”

“I did,” his answer comes off hurried, blank, “I... I am aware of how the act is done.”

“How the act is done? Aemond, that doesn’t sound enjoyable at all,” she pouts, then gently caresses his face, her voice a tender whisper when she adds, “But it should be.”

He stiffens, waiting for the discomfort to wake up, for the aversion to coil his guts, to trigger the jarring need to move away. None of that happens. Instead, he feels her fingers running through his hair, a calming motion bringing only comfort, her every touch relieving tightness in his chest.

“You seem too tense... We have to work on that,” she joyfully murmurs. “Unless, of course, my worry causes you distress,” her fingers stop, “Do you want me to leave, my prince?”

“No,” he rasps, he almost pleads, “D-don’t.”

She hums with satisfaction, bringing her hands down to unclasp his leather doublet, knowing she won’t meet any resistance. He should resent her for this but he doesn’t (he didn’t and he won’t). The air lays cold over his shirt, and Aemond shivers; she moves her fingers down his firm chest with an unspoken admiration.

“Tell me how it usually goes,” she inquires, one of her hands finding its way back to his silver locks. “Do you find pleasure in undressing them?”

Her warmth envelopes him, scented with cinnamon and peaches. “They come without much clothes,” Aemond blurts out, earning another hum from her.

“And what about you?” she glances curiously at him.

“I don’t... I don’t like them touching me,” he timidly avows, and saying it to her does bring somewhat of a relief.

With both of her hands, she cradles his face, thumbs gently contouring his cheeks — he all but melts into her palms. “And yet you are so responsive to the touch,” her voice praises, “So pretty.”

She leans in again, leaving a kiss at the hollow of his throat — and then her mouth travels up, ardent and steady, and he squirms in place. Not out of discomfort.

“You are not supposed to rush it if you want it to feel good,” she whispers in his ear and moves back to catch his gaze. “You never rush into fighting so why love making should be any different?”

Astonishment brightens his face, and she chuckles lightly. “I must confess, I did enjoy watching you train, even though you never noticed. The way you move and twirl your sword,” she’s recollecting breathy, “You are so lithe and fast and so resistant... An infatuating sight.”

She holds his gaze and lifts her hand — he follows it, unblinking, until it finds one of the straps — she hooks it with her fingers. “Fairly soon it made me wonder how would your hands feel... on me,” his heart jolts at her words.

Slowly, she moves the strap aside, baring her breast for him; Aemond’s breathing hitches. She takes his hand in hers, planting a kiss over his knuckles — and then lets his fingers graze her naked skin.

“It was so cruel of you to rob me of my pleasure,” she laments, but he can barely hear a thing, his eye wide as he fixes on the soft swell of her breast, on how her nipple peaks so eagerly under his touch.

She guides his hand over her chest, down to her ribs and waist, letting him brush her every curve, placing his fingers firmly on her hip. And then she reaches for his other hand and lowers the other strap; his body trembles. The layers of his reticence are all peeled at once, leaving his desire raw and undisguised, unshackled. He’s drawn to fondle, clutch at her plump breasts but her grip is tight and taunting, not letting his fingers roam free.

Still, when both his hands sink into her hips, he realizes that he’s getting harder by the second.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by her. With a controlled, torturously slow move she drags her clothed core over his straining cock. His mouth stays closed but there’s a sound — a muffled moan caught in his throat.

“Doesn’t this feel good?” she teases, lightly tugging on his hair, her lips reaching the column of his neck. “With how much you read, I hoped you’d be more generous with words,” each of her kisses weightless like a drop of rain but then her mouth finds a spot below his ear and suckles at it, pulling a whimper from his chest.

He thinks he should... his mind goes blank after another movement of her hips, and she picks up the pace, merciless and sensuous. He tries biting down his moans but only hurts his mouth. She notices, her rapt eyes on him, and puts her finger on his lower lip:

“Please, don’t be shy with me,” she coos, her gentle touch soothing his bitten flesh, “Our desires coincide,” she earnestly affirms him — and the spark erupts and drags him into pure bliss.

He feels that his arousal leaks, his breeches way too tight to hide it, his fingers dig into her supple skin, but she gives no complaints. He watches breathlessly through his hooded eyelid as she grinds against him, then looks over her bouncing breasts, her nipples pebbled, and the pressure curls somewhere down his spine. She peppers him with kisses — the angles of his face, neck, everything that she can reach, except for his desirous mouth. And yet the softness of her lips and hands, her skin that’s draped with the redolent scent, the rhythm of her hips all bring him closer to the edge.

Her forehead is pressed to his, their lips an inch away but never fully touching. “Let go for me,” she says against his mouth, “My handsome, fierce dragon.”

That does it for him. He harshly presses her to him, then shudders with a strangled moan and comes undone, his eye squeezed shut as her name quivers in his mouth. The pleasure whirls him in and leaves him drained and stunned, a little bit light-headed.

It takes Aemond a minute to recover before he finds her gaze again — and in another minute he discerns her shallow breaths, her parted lips, brows slightly furrowed. He wants to ask her if she reached her peak, if he can help her with it —

but she pulls back.

She stands up and only briefly grabs his shoulder, steadying herself, then promptly puts the straps back on, fixing her dress. He wants to lend a hand but she moves it away, leaning in to lightly caress his face. “No, you don’t get to have me yet. I want you to admit it first, to say that you want me,” her words are laced with dignity but cooling to his mind.

She steps back, cruelly fast, the only consolation is her naughty tone. “Until then, I have to satisfy myself some other way. But I will think of you while doing it, my dear prince,” she promises, a ghost of a smile on her lips, and then walks out without looking back.

The silence feels unwelcome in the room and hangs over the ceiling like a cloud, but Aemond he is too dazed to move, spent and perplexed to wrap his head around it.

Desire, it seems, has come to stay.

But it’s not the only thing he’s feeling.

✧... YES, there will be a second part, it’s already in the works! ✧ and yes, I didn’t bother to rename Pedro’s character 'cause I adore Oberyn sue me

✧ just to clarify, I usually age Aemond up to 20 (or however old Ewan looks to you ;) ✧ I got inspired after watching the video for ROSALÍA’s “La Fama” (give it a watch, she is soooo 🥵) but I only found it because of this gorgeous gifset so shout-out to OP for giving me inspiration

✧ my recent fic (couples who kill together, stay together 🔥) ✧ my masterlist

thank you @amiraisgoingthruit for letting me tag you in every silly story of mine, hope you’ll like this one (if anyone else wants to be tagged, don’t be shy)

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

[papercorgiworld]

Sharing a bed

The best way to end a friendship?

Lorenzo Berkshire imagine

You invited yourself to sleep in Enzo’s bed, unaware of his feelings for you. The next morning everything becomes clear.

Warning: fluff and a bit of smut

A/N: I thought this was cute. Hope you like it my dear tumblr people. And per usual, feedback is appreciated!

I added part 2: read it here

The party is over and your friends head up to their dorm. When you see Pansy leave together with the guys for a little after party, you get slightly jealous. Why does she still get to hang out with them while I have to be on my own?

You grab Lorenzo’s hand and walk with him in the direction of his dorm. “I’m coming with.” You say with determination and your best friend raises an eyebrow. “Pansy gets to come.” You explain and he smiles. “Yeah, but Pansy sleeps with Blaise. Where would you sleep?”

Your slightly drunk mind thinks it over. “With you of course.” Enzo feels his whole body heat up at the idea of being in the same bed as you. “Uhm, I-uh I-don’t-“ Mattheo interrupts Enzo’s stammers. “Yeah, Enzo, why don’t you let her stay in your bed? Nothing wrong with being cuddled up with a pretty girl. She’s your best friend, you’ll behave right…” There’s an obvious grin on Mattheo’s face that worries you a bit, but you chose to ignore it. “So?” You urge as you take a step towards Enzo.

“Sure.” He says with a weak voice. Great, most beautiful girl at Hogwarts in my bed, but no touching. I’m gonna need to put a pillow between us.

***

Falling asleep was easy since the after party you guys had, was exhausting to say the least. The next morning you find yourself in Enzo’s bed, wearing one of his shirts and trying to clear up your hazy memory. A vague recollection of Pansy telling you that Enzo had a crazy crush on you fills your head. Followed by a memory of drunk Blaise whispering about how Enzo hated the idea of having to sleep with you and not getting to ‘sleep’ with you. Blaise’s unsubtle winking makes you smile as you remember last night's conversation.

“Enz, you up?” You ask when he moves a little. A soft murmur is the only answer you get since he’s still stuck in the world between awake and vast asleep.

You chuckle and roll closer to Enzo, who’s starting to panic. No, not too close. Too late, you’ve already snuggled up to your best friend, embracing his warmth. Maybe she won’t notice. “Oh, you’re definitely up, Enzo.” You softly wiggle your thighs against his morning wood. She noticed! Enzo’s face heats up and his eyes fling open to find yours are still shut as you’re innocently snuggled against him.

Lorenzo’s eyes scan the room and he’s relieved to see that all his roommates have already left for breakfast. “Just-um-ignore it.” Enzo finally manages to say before taking a deep breath to relax himself. You try to suppress the cheeky smile tugging on your lips. “It’s hard to ignore Enzo.” You tease as you rub yourself against his hard member and entangle your body with his, leaving no space between you two.

You open your eyes to see a very flustered Lorenzo, who quickly looks away. “Don’t play with me.” Enzo breathes out, you smile and nudge your nose against his cheek demanding that he looks at you. Hesitantly his puppy eyes meet yours and you brush lips over his in an effort to make him relax. Your hand moves over his chest while you whisper. “Am I really not allowed to play with-“ An unexpected moan leaves Lorenzo’s lips as you palm his hard one, feeling it twitch in his boxers. You can’t help but bite your lip as his soft eyes fill with hunger for you.

Your lips are met with a needy kiss as Enzo pushes himself against you, finally giving in to his desire for you, his best friend. “Play with me, I beg you, play with me like I’m a toy.” His husky and desperate voice does a number on your brain and body. You slip your hand in his boxers and grab his dick, while you kiss him with a similar hunger.

Word count: 660

Picture source: https://pin.it/6bYlKDSfs

[promptfairy]

❥    𝐋𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒    [   𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂    ]   .

designed for ships, but can be used for a variety of relationship types. change gendered language/add context to your needs. happy roleplaying !!  ♡

❛  it feels so good to be bad.  ❜ ❛  it really makes me wonder if i ever gave a fuck about you.  ❜ ❛  give me something to believe in.  ❜ ❛  i don’t believe in you anymore.  ❜ ❛  i wonder if it even makes a difference to try.  ❜ ❛  so, this is goodbye.  ❜ ❛  one day i’ll wake up & it won’t hurt anymore.  ❜ ❛  it’s like i can’t even feel after the way you touched me.  ❜ ❛  you’re everything that i want, but you don’t want me.  ❜ ❛  am i a regret, yet?  ❜ ❛  was it worth what it costed?  ❜ ❛  you make me nauseous.  ❜ ❛  you’re overrated.  ❜ ❛  when i think of you, i just want to throw up.  ❜ ❛  all my friends say that you’re toxic.  ❜ ❛  why does love suck?  ❜ ❛  love hurts whether it’s right or wrong.  ❜ ❛  i can’t stop, i’m having too much fun.  ❜ ❛  you can’t save me, baby.  ❜ ❛  you never call or listen to me anyway.  ❜ ❛  where were you tuesday, october tenth?  ❜ ❛  how is your jacket covered in blood?  ❜ ❛  how was the party? did you have fun?  ❜ ❛  i fell in love with the warning signs.  ❜ ❛  the only time i feel alive is when i’m touching the warning signs.  ❜ ❛  if you tell me to stay away, i’m gonna dive in again.  ❜ ❛  my favorite color is red like the flags you fly overhead.  ❜ ❛  well, i should have known.  ❜ ❛  didn’t you see it coming? didn’t you see the signs?  ❜ ❛  i’ll break your pretty face.  ❜ ❛  bite your tongue & choke yourself to sleep.  ❜ ❛  you can hold my hand if no one’s home.   ❜ ❛  do you like it when i’m away?  ❜ ❛  you’re a pond & i’m an ocean.  ❜ ❛  all my emotions feel like explosions when you are around.  ❜ ❛  i am a wreck when i’m without you.  ❜ ❛  was it something i said to make you feel like you’re a burden?  ❜ ❛  tell me, is it worth it?  ❜ ❛  she’s a lady & i am just a line without a hook.  ❜ ❛  do what you want as long as you stay here.  ❜ ❛  you’ll change your name or change your mind & leave this fucked up place behind, but i’ll know.  ❜ ❛  if you ever try to leave me, i’ll find you, [name].  ❜ ❛  i’ll be the bad guy, now.  ❜ ❛  i couldn’t be there, even when i tried.  ❜ ❛  seasons changed & our love went cold.  ❜ ❛  i knew that this was doomed from the get-go.  ❜ ❛  you thought that it was special, but it was just the sex, though.  ❜ ❛  it’s only me; what have you got to lose?  ❜ ❛  you should take it as a compliment that i got drunk & made fun of the way you talk.  ❜ ❛  you should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong.  ❜ ❛  you’re so cool, it makes me hate you so much.  ❜ ❛  you’ve ruined my life by not being mine.  ❜ ❛  you’re so gorgeous, i can’t say anything to your face. ’cause look at your face.  ❜ ❛  i’m so furious at you for making me feel this way.  ❜ ❛  if you’ve got a girlfriend, i’m jealous of her. but if you’re single, that’s honestly worse.  ❜ ❛  you’re so gorgeous, it actually hurts.  ❜ ❛  you make me so happy, it turns back to sad.  ❜ ❛  there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have.  ❜ ❛  guess i’ll just stumble on home to my cats. alone … unless you wanna come along?  ❜ ❛  you look so happy when i’m not with you.  ❜ ❛  i don’t know why i run away.  ❜ ❛  take me back, ’cause i wanna stay.  ❜ ❛  i kept my distance ’cause i know that you don’t like when i’m with somebody else.  ❜ ❛  i couldn’t help it; i put you through hell.  ❜ ❛  i realize that it’s much too late, & you deserve someone better.  ❜ ❛  i’m not the best at breaking up.  ❜ ❛  i like my alone time, but i want somebody to hold.  ❜ ❛  i get what i want. i keep it for a minute. then i let it go.  ❜ ❛  i hate it when you’re there for me, but i like it when you hit the spot.  ❜ ❛  i don’t do fake love, but i’ll take some from you tonight.  ❜ ❛  i don’t expect you to understand.  ❜ ❛  i’m ready to die holding your hand.  ❜ ❛  i can’t hide how i feel about you inside.  ❜ ❛  i’d give everything up tonight, if i could just have you be mine.  ❜ ❛  i’d give up everything for you.  ❜

[holylulusworld]

Darkness and Sunshine

Summary: Bucky hurts you deeply.

@buckybarnesevents „Hot Bucky Summer 2024”: Week 10 “Shhhhhhhhh…”

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader

Warnings: angst, Bucky being a douche, unrequited feelings, BBF trope, unwanted touching (not Bucky), fluff

A/N: The story to this random thot & this poll.

Bucky's POV

She does it again. A quick glance at me, and back to her girly drink. I know she’s interested in being more than my friend’s sister to me, but this can never be.

Just like her drink, she’s too sweet for me.

You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait Until that day I think I'll take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

I’m the whiskey-neat kind of guy. Bitter and dark. Rough and violently. My soul is black, just like the coffee I drink.

She’s the sunshine, but I am the darkness. A beautiful but vulnerable flower like her could never grow in my shadow. She would wither away and die before she got the chance to bloom.

I don’t know when, or how I changed her mind about me. I was only ever the dangerous guy her brother met to get drunk, and punch people. How often she scolded her brother for being friends with me, I don’t know.

But somehow, over the years she changed her mind. Now she looks at me like a lovesick puppy, and I cannot bear it. Not because I do not wish for her to be mine. It’s the opposite. I cannot let her in. If I do, I’d paint a target on her back.

Damnit, she bites her sweet lips while stealing another glance at me. I sigh deeply and sip at my drink. Tonight, I must show her that a goody in two shoes can never be the woman by my side. As much as it pains me, it has to be done.

“Buck, what’s wrong with you?” Her brother asks, clueless as ever. He’s not the smartest when it comes to acknowledging love, or other people’s feelings. “Something wrong?”

It has to be done. I tell myself, repeating the words like a mantra. Steve, my best friend since childhood worriedly looks at her brother. He knows about Y/N’s feelings for me, and that I must extinguish the flame I ignited in her heart.

Sadly, this can only be done by crushing her heart.

“Bucky, maybe there’s another way?” Steve gets up when I do. He wraps his hand around my wrist, stopping me for a second. “You should reconsider your decision. Peggy is sweet too. Just give it a try.”

I think I'll take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

“No—” I harshly free my metal wrist from Steve’s grasp. He means well, I know he does, but I cannot allow Y/N to fall for me even more. I’m a dangerous man, deadly even. I won’t steal her light nor let anyone hurt her even if I have to be the one breaking her heart.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

So, I turn away from my friend and his disappointed look. Away from her brother. Away from the future fate held for me to protect what could’ve been mine.

I nod at the girls I hired for tonight, and they immediately take my offered arms. I breathe in and out before walking in Y/N’s direction.

The girls begin to chat, and as I’m about to walk past Y/N I say, "Luckily I found you ladies. All the girls at this place are so plain and boring.” I look directly at Y/N and scrunch my nose up in disgust. “Some are only allowed at my club because their big brother begged me to let them come.”

My heart chatters as a pained wail leaves Y/N’s lips. Her eyes water and her lips tremble. Those soft lips I yearned to kiss for so long. Forsaken to me now.

Still, there’s something in her eyes. A sliver of hope I must kill.

“I can’t believe a wallflower like her believes she can be anything but a pity fuck to me. If it was up to me, I’d make sure she stays away from me,” I hate myself the moment she drops the glass in her hands to run out of my club. I shattered her world and broke her heart.

I watch the door slam shut, telling myself it’s for the best.

Your POV

You run, as fast as you can. It doesn’t matter that your brother drove you to the club, or that you forgot your jacket.

Bucky just confirmed your worst fear. He hates everything about you. From your plain outfit to your character. All the things he said, are true. You’re not like the girls hanging on his arms tonight.

All you had was a glimmer of hope that maybe, he sees more in a woman but a pretty face and good looks.

Your whole world got shattered when he said all those awful things.

You know now that James Buchanan Barnes is just like every other guy.

It’s almost two months later that Bucky sees you again. That day, you glance his way. Your eyes sadden and you immediately walk the other way. The flowers you wanted to buy long forgotten you almost run away from Bucky to not feel the hurting all over again.

His eyes follow you until you’re only a tiny dot in the distance. Bucky shakes his head and sighs deeply. This is not what he intended to do.

He not only lost a good friend that night but hurt you so deeply that you’re scared to even look his way.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath when Steve steps out of the flower shop. He carries a huge bouquet of roses for Peggy.

“What’s wrong, Buck?” Steve follows his friend’s eyes, frowning. “What happened?”

“She ran away.” He shrugs, shoulders slumping. “I didn’t want her to be scared of me, Steve. Only to make sure she looks for someone better.”

Hiding in your bedroom you ignore your ringing phone once again. You assume it’s your brother, or maybe your friend Tasha trying to get you to go out.

No way you will go out there, facing the world ever again. Bucky embarrassed you in public, in front of your brother and all his friends. You’ll never recover from this.

Rolling to your side you grab your phone from the nightstand to silence it. For today, you will shut yourself out from the world.

Another month later Bucky is fuming. Not because of you, and your presence at his club. No, not at all. Your sweet smile, and the cute sundress you’re wearing make his heart flutter.

The person making his blood boil is your date. John Walker - the man trying to get under Bucky's skin for years. That bastard brought you here for a date. A date at Bucky’s club.

Walker did this on purpose. Bucky is sure about it. He doesn’t know how his concurrent found out that he likes you, but he did. Now you’re sitting at a table with Walker, looking at the untouched drink in your hands.

Vodka. Bucky knows you hate vodka when it’s neat. You like the sweet drinks, the girly drinks he laughs about.

“What’s wrong?” Steve regrets his question the moment John Walker dares to put his hand on your thigh.

You tense, and uncomfortable shift in your seat. Maybe this date wasn’t the best idea. You agreed to go out with John, and even willingly entered Bucky’s club to show the very man that you moved on. (At least you like to tell yourself so.)

“Relax, and smile for me,” John’s voice hardens. This is his chance to get back at Bucky Barnes, and he won’t miss it. “You look like you’re at a funeral. Smile, you’re having the honor to be my date.”

Biting your tongue, you look anywhere but at John. He’s not as nice as you believed he was. Tonight, he showed his true face.

His hand creeps higher and under your dress. You’re about to stop his hand from slipping between your legs when he’s suddenly gone.

John makes a gurgling noise because Bucky dragged him off his chair from behind. He struggles against Bucky’s iron grip. Bucky has his metal arm wrapped around John’s throat, choking your date.

“You don’t touch her ever again,” Bucky growls in John’s ear. “And she doesn’t drink vodka, you piece of shit.”

“Buck—” Steve laughs watching John tug at Bucky’s metal arm. “I see you’ve got it handled.” He holds out his hand for you, murmuring your name. “Come with me, Y/N. This is not for you to see.”

“She’s having a strawberry daiquiri and get her some chicken parmesan. I bet that bastard didn’t order food for her,” Bucky grunts while keeping John in a chokehold.

Your heart flutters. Bucky remembered your favorite drink and food. But wait. He hurt you and broke your heart. Why would he attack your date?

“I should go home,” you slip off the chair and grab your purse. “Never call me again John.” Your voice is barely a whisper, but John gives you an angry look.

“You’ll regret fucking with me, missy.”

“You wish she’d fuck with you, but she won’t,” Bucky slams John’s head onto the table, making you shriek. Steve brings you into his arms and presses your face into his chest.

“Let’s get you to the VIP area, Y/N. You don’t want to see what happens next…”

The moment you follow Steve, Bucky smirks. He leans over John, whispering in his ear.

““Shhhhhhhhh…, don't make a scene, Walker," Bucky snarls. "If you even look her way ever again, I’ll break every bone in your body. And then, I’ll put you back together only to break them again.”

“Why am I here?” You nervously glance at Bucky. He sits next to you, pointing at the food Steve got for you. “I should head home.”

“Doll.” You whimper at the pet name. “I’m sorry…for tonight and the other night,” he grabs your hand, holding it tightly. “I tried to protect you from myself. You’re too sweet for me. A ray of sunshine and I’m…”

“A big grump,” you giggle. “I know you’re a grump.”

Bucky chuckles. You still don’t understand that he’s not a good man. He killed people, and his profession is far from legal. “Doll, you don’t understand. I got a gun and…”

Your eyes drop to his crotch. Bucky’s eyes widen when you lean closer to get a better look at his lap. “Why do you call your cock a gun?”

He laughs. Bucky wholeheartedly laughs for the first time in years.

“What I tried to tell you is that I’m a criminal with a gun. You’re a sweet girl, and too good for me. I wanted to keep you away from me, and said all those things.”

“So, you hurt me to make me leave?” You sniffle. “Why? If you don’t even like me.”

“I like you too much, doll,” he whispers in your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin. “That’s the problem.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Bucky laughs. Not even the toughest criminals dared to call James Buchanan Barnes an idiot. “You’ve got balls, Y/N. No one ever called me an idiot.”

“You deserve that much,” you pull away and cross your arms over your chest. “What kind of man does things like that? How could you do this to me? I didn’t leave my place for weeks, hiding in my bedroom.”

“I wanted to keep you safe, only for you to walk right into John Walker’s trap.” He huffs. “I guess to keep you safe, I must keep you around from now on…”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[hanniebaeee]

Crazy for you - Part 1

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warning: swearing, drinking, kissing, some touching MDNI

Genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

Summary: You and your best friend's cousin, Hyunjin don't get along very well. This game of cat and mouse may be a disguise to hide your real feelings.

a/n: Everyone in the story is so petty! I wrote this ages ago, partly based on a dream I had😅 It's silly, but here you go 🤝 (also this series will have smut in the future, just letting you know.)

Part 2 , Part 3

You sigh impatiently, trying your best not to cry. The day couldn't get any more worse. All you could think of was the anger and hate on his mother's face. Her harsh words were like daggers to your chest. And on top of that, you were smashed against him right now, your bodies pressed together way too much for your liking.

'Jennie!! Make it FASTER!' You said to your best friend who was driving.

'I'm going as fast as I can, Y/N' Jennie said apologetically. 'Just hang on.'

'She's hanging on alright' Hyunjin said sarcastically,  and your blood boiled at that.

Hwang Hyunjin, your arch nemesis, was Jennie's cousin. You all were part of the same friends group since childhood and so, you were willingly or not, always around each other.

'It's not like I have a choice now, do I?!' You spat,  putting a hand against his chest and pushing him away.

'I'm sorry sweetheart, there's not use pushing me.' Hyunjin said, glancing behind him.

Jeongin, Jisung and Minho lay drunk and asleep, all crammed together at the back of Jennie's car along with you and Hyunjin. Jennie's boyfriend Changbin was asleep in the passenger seat beside Jennie.

'It was so indecent of your mum to talk like that, Jinnie. And you didn't have anything to say?' Jennie asked, addressing the elephant in the room. 'When did Y/N ever try to seduce you? I mean you're at each other's throats ALL THE FUCKING TIME!'

'You think my mom would stop if I say so?' Hyunjin asked with a scoff. 'She's crazy. She would just insult her more.'

'She humiliated my best friend in front if everyone.' Jennie said. 'That's not OK'

You sigh again, turning your face away from Hyunjin. His mother hated you for some reason. You felt that most of it had to do with the fact that you weren't Korean and she was afraid of what people might say if he brought home a foreigner. And part of it was because she knew that there were things you both were hiding.

'Well, it can't be completely wrong. Mum must have seen something.' Hyunjin said teasingly.

'Hyunjin, you're on my LAST fucking nerve. Better stop right there.' You warn him, blinking fast to keep your tears from falling.

'Or what?' Hyunjin asked, moving closer just to piss you off.

He was so close, your chests were literally pressed together. Your hand was on his chest again, putting a gap between you two. You give him your best death glare and pinch his tummy so hard that Hyunjin screamed in pain.

'What the fuck?!' Jennie yelled as Changbin woke up with a start and stuffed his fingers into his ears.

'She pinched me!' Hyunjin said in shock. 'Oh God it hurts!'

'Serves you right for being an asshole, Hyunjin.' Jennie said, shaking her head.

You glare at him with tear filled eyes.

'I don't know if you are really that drunk or not, but YOU are the one who can't keep your hands to yourself, Hyunjin. Not the other way around. Tell your mummy that when both of you are in your right minds.' you hiss.

Hyunjin just smirked, biting his lip sensually.

'I love it when your so feisty.' he whispered, his hand slipping down to your thigh, and moving up under your dress. You grip at his hand to stop him.

'Please!!' You sob softly, the tears finally falling. Hyunjin moves his hand away quickly, a look of guilt and sadness clouding his handsome face.

'Y/N' he says, his hand coming up to your face, but you turn away. 'I was only joking.'

Jennie hit the brakes.

'What the fuck, Hyunjin?! Leave her alone!' she shrieks. 'It'll be easier to watch babies, I swear!'

'Let me out! I'd rather walk than sit here with your brother!' You yell, voice shaking.

Hyunjin just sighed and sat back, sulking. He didn't want you to leave. He quite liked being stuck to you. Jennie banged her hand on the steering wheel in frustration and said, 'Binnie, get your ass back there!  Come on to the front, Y/N.'

'Ew, no way! He's covered in puke!' Hyunjin whined. Which was why no one wanted to sit with him.

'Not my fucking problem, Hyunjin. Another word from you and I'm done' Jennie warned.

After exchanging seats, the remaining ride home was in silence. Hyunjin's eyes were fixed on you and his heart sank, watching you wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes.

He genuinely felt bad for what his mother had said. And he did confront her away from the crowd. He knew that his mother went out of her way to separate the two of you right from when you were at school. You never did anything to seduce him. Knowing his mother's dislike for you, you had always kept away from him. It was the hardest thing for Hyunjin. He loved you even without any kind of effort from your side.

The tension existing between you two wasn't a secret. Everyone knew that this wasn't just some stupid rivalry. There was so much more going on. But no one said anything because some things are better left alone.

You reached the apartment building and the boys helped their drunk friends to their feet. As Jennie went on to park the car, Hyunjin caught hold of your hand, as you tried to slip away.

'Look. I'm sorry for what mum said. I didn't pick a fight only because she can be real pain. I didn't want to provoke her, Y/N. She would've just insulted you more.' Hyunjin said. 'I'm sorry I didn't stand up for you.'

'It's alright.' You said with a nod. 'I know.'

Hyunjin nodded and watched you leave in silence.

You and Jennie shared an apartment and the boys, another, on two different floors. But you always met for your meals, mostly at the boys' apartment. The next morning, when you woke up, Jennie had already gone to Hyunjin's to cook breakfast.

After a quick shower, you joined her. As you passed Hyunjin's room, you saw the door was open, and he was sprawled on his bed in his pyjamas, still asleep. His shirt was pushed up, exposing his tummy. A purplish bruise had formed where you had pinched him the other day. You didn't mean to do it so hard, and now felt bad about it.

After watching him snore softly for a moment, looking so innocent and angelic, you walk away. You enter the kitchen to find Jennie pouring coffee into mugs.

'Can you please take this to Jinnie and wake him up?' Jennie asked as she returned to cooking. The bacon that she was frying looked way too burnt at this point.

'Not a good idea. Not this early in the morning' You said, shaking your head no and nibbling on a piece of the burnt bacon.

'Please sweetheart.' Jennie said pouting, and you sigh.

'I know what you are doing Jennie Kim.' You said in a sing song manner.

Jennie just gives you an innocent look as you pick up the mug and walk to Hyunjin's room. Placing it on his bedside table, you touch his arm to wake him up.

'Hey.' You call softly. 'Wake up, Hyunjinnie!'

You pause as you cringe at the way you said that. But he opened his eyes slowly and seeing you, he sat up, smiling.

'Am I dreaming?' he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep.

'Ok. Come on, up.' You said, trying to distract yourself from the way he is looking at you. 'Jennie asked me to wake you up.'

He nods with a sigh, taking the mug in his hands. You begin to walk out when he stops you.

'Are we good, Y/N? ' he asked.

You turn to look at him with a frown, but end up nodding quickly and escaping the room and his puppy eyes.

Jeongin, Minho and Jisung were awake and terribly hungover. Jennie shot them all looks of disgust as she brought breakfast to the table.

'Stop looking at me like that!' Minho whined. 'People make mistakes sometimes!!'

'Lino, you puked all night, do you remember?' Jennie asked, with her arms on her hips.

'Of course I know, I'm the one who nearly puked my intestines out!' Minho said, resting his head on his hand. 'I'm sorry!'

Jennie sighed and said, 'Innie?'

'To both my noonas, I'm really sorry I got carried away!' he said raising his hands in surrender. 'Sorry!'

'I'm not even starting with you Hannie.' Jennie said. You giggle, loving how Jennie managed to make three men shiver under her glare. Jisung pouted, sipping on his lemon tea.

'And Hyunjin.' Jennie said sarcastically. 'You don't even have to be drunk to be a pain in the ass.'

He grinned showcasing all his teeth, his eyes two crescent moons.

'i try my best.' He said, winking at you, and you roll your eyes at him.

'Honestly, Jinnie, if you can't keep you hands to yourself, why don't you just ask her out?!' Jennie snapped at her cousin.

'Jennie!!' You hiss, poking her on the rib.

'I'm sick of you both always bickering like some old married couple! it's so damn annoying!' Jennie said. 'Just give each other a chance at least!'

'It won't work!' You said, shaking your head. 'Jennie, stop.'

Jennie knew of your feelings for Hyunjin and she really wished that you would just get together, since she knew her cousin felt the same.

'I want you both to try.' Jennie said. 'I'm tried of seeing you both eye fucking each other every time you're in the same room. It's disgusting.'

'I don't deny it.' Hyunjin said confidently.

'Oh my God!' You cry. 'Why is your family set on humiliating me all the fucking time!?'

'You're my best friend and he's my brother. I need you both to get along. I'm so sick of your constant disagreements. I want you to try dating. It could seriously work out.' Jennie pressed on.

'I agree with Jennie Noona' Jeongin said.

'You guys can always stop if you want.' Jisung offered, while Minho was too hungover to make a meaningful comment.

'Hyunjin.' You plead.

'I'm ready if she's ready.' Hyunjin said with a shrug.

Jennie grinned, knowing her cousin's deep dark desires. She turned to you with hopeful eyes.

'Your mother is going to throw a fit about it.' You warned Hyunjin. 'You know that! She'll never allow it!'

'Who cares about what his mom thinks?' Jennie dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. 'We know that you both like each other. This is about you. Not us or anyone else.'

'I decide what I do with my life, Y/N. Not mum.' Hyunjin said, seriously. 'You don't have to worry about her.'

'You can say no, you know.' Jennie challenged you, with a smug look. 'No one's stopping you.'

You shrivel at her words. Of course, no one was going to stop you if you say no and walk out. But this is what you really wanted. You've wanted Hyunjin all your life. You were crazy in love, to say the least. You could say no. But you didn't want to. Hyunjin just looks at you, bottom lip between his teeth and it felt like he was holding his breath.

'Ok.' You said. 'Ok, I will give it a try. But if he puts one toe out of line, -'

'I won't' Hyunjin said, quickly. 'I really won't.'

Knowing his ways, you weren't so sure. But you still nod.

'I'm so happy!' Jennie said clapping. 'Finally. I've waited for this day for so long!'

'Congrats Hyunjinnie and Y/N noona!' Jeongin said giving you both a cute smile.

'Let's not make this more awkward now.' Minho said. 'Let them be.'

You give Minho a grateful look before your eyes fall on Hyunjin. He sat with his eyes on you, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. The rest of them went on doing their own things leaving you two alone in the room.

'So, girlfriend.' Hyunjin said, teasingly. 'Come here and gimme a kiss.'

You shoot him a glare, making him laugh.

A month later:

It was movie night at the boys' apartment. Changbin and Jennie shared a couch, and you and Hyunjin shared another. The rest of them had put sleeping bags on the floor and they were all settled to watch the movie.

Hyunjin had draped a blanket over you both. It has been more than a month since Jennie pronounced you a couple, but you were still a bit awkward with it. It made you so sad that even though you held hands and cuddled and went out on dates, none of it felt real. Hyunjin didn't irritate you like he usually did. But that was all.

Hyunjin, who was usually a very confident person, felt like everything was out of his control. He had wanted this for so long, but now that it was actually happening, he was scared. He didn't want to lose you in any way. You were so perfect in his eyes, he felt that he wasn't enough. He felt this was why you never really told him anything important or even look at him with affection.

The movie was going pretty well, until some steamy scenes came by. You feel Hyunjin's fingers intertwine with yours and he slowly brought them up to his lips. You blush at his sudden display of affection.

Hyunjin moved closer, his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your heart raced and you throw a quick glance at Jennie's way. She and Changbin were huddled together, whereas the others were already asleep.

'Jinn-'

Hyunjin's lips were hot against your own. You feel butterflies in you stomach as he tilted his head slightly for better angle. Your lips moved together in synch and his free hand slipped under your night shirt, cupping your breast over your bra. Your grip on his arm tightened as he squeezed gently.

His lips trailed down your neck, pressing soft warm kisses on their way. You close your eyes, engrossed in the feeling. But your eyes snapped open when Jeongin's raspy voice called out your name.

Hyunjin stopped and sat still. You turn to look at Jeongin who had his eyes still closed.

'Can you please get me some water?' he mumbled sleepily and you sigh in relief.

Hyunjin is up on his feet, taking your hand and walking towards the kitchen. Pulling you into his arms again, he kissed you, this time more demanding than before. You pull back to breathe and he watched like a predator looking at his prey. He stepped closer and kissed you again. His hands wandered, over your chest and sides, before cupping your butt through your shorts. He pulled you as close as he could.

You were shocked and you gasped as you felt him against you. You gently put a hand to his chest, to stop him. Shaking your head, you try to step away. Hyunjin looks at you, but not that lovesick look he gave you a few minutes ago. You heart thudded on heavily as you remembered the last time you had seen this look of utter heartbreak on his face.

This wasn't your first time with Hyunjin. The last time it happened,you were at one of Kim Mingyu's famous parties, back in highschool. You were all drunk (for the first time in your case) and Hyunjin was all touchy (what's new?). He had dragged you to one of the bathrooms where you got into a very heated make out session.

You were terrified and it was your very first time letting a boy touch you like that. You had pushed him away, even though you have loved it. He had looked just as heartbroken back then. Being rejected by the love of his life hurt like hell.

You never spoke of it, and somehow all the frustration of never being able to go back to that moment and being too awkward to try it again led to your constant battles. You're both quiet, each reliving the memory.

'Do you not enjoy it?' Hyunjin asked, trying to remain calm.

You are surprised by this question.

'What sort of a question is that?!' You ask, giving him a glare.

'Why do you always push me away? Are you really not interested?' He asks, and you just stare at him in silence. 'Is sex a problem?'

'Hyunjin, are you really that stupid?' you ask, trying to understand what he's saying.

'Is that why you haven't been with anyone all these years?' He asks, folding his arms against his chest.

'How does that concern you?' You retort, embarrassment hitting you hard.

Hyunjin laughs and says, 'Thanks to my sister you have me.'

'I can get any guy I want on my own Hwang Hyunjin! I don't need you or your sister for that!  It's my choice if I see people or not!' you said furiously. 'I don't like to fuck around for fun like you do!'

Hyunjin scoffed.

'Why do you ruin everything, Hyunjin?' You ask. 'That was a good moment we had.'

'Was it?' Hyunjin asked, shaking his head. 'You were dying to push me away.'

'You know what, fuck you!' You said, making your way out.

'I dare you to find someone who's actually interested in you!' Hyunjin said suddenly.

You turn to look at him, the hurt clear on your face.

'YOU are breaking up with me?' You ask, raising your eyebrows.

'I never said that.' Hyunjin said, a pang of guilt (and fear) hitting him.

'Well, good. Because I am breaking up with you.' You said, a single tear escaping your eye before you left the room.

Hyunjin stood watching you leave. He knew he had said too much. He had provoked you, though he promised that he wouldn't. But he was really hoping to take things forward. Your rejection had just hit him in the wrong way.

You tossed the bottle to Jeongin on your way out of the apartment. Tears ran freely down your cheeks and you couldn't hold back your sobs anymore.

It was too good to be true, you thought.

[straylightdream]

I don't give a fuck about your friends - 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: lee minho x f.reader

friends to lovers

↳ Oh baby, take a look around I'm the only one that hasn't walked out, Im right here.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, smut warning below the cut.

𝐚𝐧: part of a series called ohmami of short one shots inspired by Chase Atlantic songs. This one was inspired by Right Here. If you would like to be tagged in all stories for this series or a specific boys please fill out this form.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, soft dom minho, rougher passionate sex, creampie, size kink, dirty talk, minho calls the reader the name Pretty.

It’s been a rough night to say the least. A night out with your friends went wrong. A bunch of drunk girls in the club is never a good mix, followed by watching a so-called friend makeout with your ex who you thought at one point you were gonna marry him. The sight of them kissing was like a bucket of cold water being dumped on you. Tears well in your eyes as you rush off to the hallway near the bathrooms. You fight back crying as you call the only person you want to see at that moment.

Walking back to the table where a few friends were, you let them know you were heading out. The buzz you had has faded away as a feeling of sadness takes over. Walking outside the cold air catches you by surprise. Taking a deep breath you wrap your arms around your body trying to find some warmth. You stand outside alone for all of five minutes when you see the only person you want to see walking towards. He’s dressed in gray sweats with a hoodie underneath and coat over the top.

You practically jog towards him, wrapping your arms around him, throwing yourself into his chest. There is a moment of silence as you cling to him. His hand gently rubs your back making you feel warmer.

“Thank you for saving me.”

“That’s what friends are for,” he presses his lips to the top of your head.

Pulling away he takes off his coat and holds it out for you. You know he’ll probably be cold walking back to his car but there is no use in fighting him. Pulling his coat on you immediately notice his eyes are focused on you. He steps closer to you resting his hand on your cheek. Ever so slowly be wipes away the stray tear that had slid down your cheek.

“You’re too pretty to be sad,” his voice was calm and gentle.

Arriving at his car he helps you in the passenger side before shutting the door. The drive back to his apartment is quiet. You can feel him looking over at you every so often as you wipe away the stray tears that keep falling. He hasn’t really asked you what’s wrong but you know he will.

You arrive at his apartment he shares with Jisung and you notice right away there is no sign of his roommate. Without thinking the moment he shuts the door you lean forward to kiss him just like you always do. You’re caught off guard when he pulls away the moment your lips touch. The small feeling of rejection stings but you know it’s because he knows you’re upset.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” He seems frustrated. You can’t blame him though. Recently anytime something has gone wrong in your life you always call him. He never tells you he can’t come to your rescue. He always does and every time no matter if it’s day or night it always ends the same way with you naked and spread out underneath him. He normally doesn’t say anything when you throw yourself at him. Peeling away your clothes as you desperately cling to him trying to make yourself feel better.

“Mae was all over Hyunwoo at the club. I looked out on the dance floor and saw my friend making out with the guy that broke my heart.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just takes a deep breath and steps closer to you. Minho hated Hyunwoo and after you got your heart broken he hated your ex even more.

“She’s not your friend if she would do something that she knows would hurt you.” His hand rests on your side standing close to you.

“I’m probably just being sensitive,” you sigh, wiping away your tears. “I have that trip with them next weekend. I know she wouldn’t intentionally do something to hurt me.” You're an absolute fool and you know it. Mae and a bunch of the other girls are selfish and you know deep down inside you need to cut them off. Minho has told you over and over again he doesn’t like most of your friends in that group and you know why. He doesn’t say anything for a moment instead he moves away from your hand and gently rests his hand on your cheek. His thumb swipes away the tears that are staining your cheek.

“Come stay with me next weekend. I don’t think you should go on that trip.” From the moment Minho heard that you were supposed to have a girls weekend he was instantly against it. He thought most of the girls that you had started hanging out with since college were fake. After seeing one of them make out with the man that broke your heart led you to believe he might be right.

“They’ll be upset if I cancel on them,” you sigh.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“‘Min they’re my friends. It does matter.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your friends. I’m the one who is always right here. They don’t treat you right. If they were true friends they would have seen you were upset tonight and wouldn’t have let you leave crying.”

“Min,” his words catch you off guard.

“I’m being honest. I don’t give a fuck about your so called friends. I just want you to be happy and I think being with me instead of them would make you happy.”

Even though your head is telling you that you should go on this trip, you want to listen to your heart and stay with Minho.

“What happens if I stay here?”

“We’ll figure out whatever we are.” He pushes his figures through your hair tilting your head back. His face softens as your eyes lock.

“We’re not just friends?” You’re not dumb you know you’re more than friends. If you were just friends you wouldn’t throw yourself at him any chance you get. If he was just your friend you wouldn’t daydream about kissing him.

He pulls back from you shaking his head. “I don’t fuck my friends.” He starts walking away from you heading off to his room. You’re caught off guard by his bold statement but it lets you know he feels the same way you do. Without thinking anymore you follow him. Walking into his room you notice the light on in the bathroom connected to his room. You wait sitting on his bed for him to walk back in. Walking back into his bedroom he pulls off his shirt tossing it in the hamper by his closet. He strips down to his boxers. You silently sit there watching him. You should have known at some point or another things between you and Minho would come to a head. You couldn’t go on sleeping together without talking about how you really get.

“Are you going to skip that trip?” He finally breaks the silence.

“I want to know what it’s like to be more than friends with you.” This is your way of telling him you aren’t going on that trip.

“Stand up for me,” he says walking towards you. You listen to him standing at the foot of the bed. “Those girls aren’t good for you. They don’t care about your feelings and I don’t like that.”

“I know they don’t.” You get sad again thinking about how your night went.

“Strip down to your underwear please.” He doesn’t normally boss you around when you sleep together. He’s always had dominant energy about him, but when you have sex he always lets you do what you want. Every time you’ve slept together it’s been when you’re upset or want a form of stress release. You realize you’ve been selfish and never really asked Minho what he likes or what he wants.

Standing there in just your underwear you reach out resting your hand on his cheek, “what do you want from me?” You ask.

“Anything you’re willing to give me. I want every part of you.”

“Minho I mean what do you want if you don’t want to be just friends?”

His hand rests on your bare side pulling you close to him. You take a deep breath taking in his closeness. “Pretty, I want to be your everything. I want to make you happy and show you what it’s like to be loved.” Leaning in closer he rested his forehead against yours.

“I want you to be my everything.” You didn’t want to just be friends. You wanted so much more with him.

His lips crash against yours and he kisses you like he needs you to breathe. His hands grip your soft sides as your lips move together.

Pulling away you both removed the rest of your clothes. Laying on his bed completely bare he sits between your spread thighs as he rubs his hardened length through your folds.

“Min put it in,” you practically whine wanting him inside you.

A smirk tugs at his lips as slowly pushes his length into you earning a moan. He moves at a slow pace letting you adjust to his girth. The groan that passes his lips as he bottoms out is intoxicating. Your hands reach for his wanting to hold on to him. He thrust into you at a firm but steady place. The blissed out look on his face makes you weak.

“Pretty, you’re so tight. Is my cock too big for you?” He loves to make you feel small. You weren’t a tiny girl by any means but the way he talks about his size makes your head spin.

With one particularly hard thrust makes you practically scream his name. A soft laugh passes his lips as he thrust hard again causing your breast to bounce.

“Min-“ you moan.

“Do you like it when I’m rough?” You just silently nod your head, unable to fully respond. He grabs one of your legs, putting it over his shoulder before he continues his pace. His finger toys with your clit knowing just the right way to touch you to make you scream his name again.

He keeps his steady pace leaving you a panting mess. One of your hands grip the cotton sheets next to you while the other grasp your breast. Your thumb drags across your sensitive nipple adding to the overwhelming sensation taking over your body.

“Fuck you look good touching yourself while you’re taking my cock,” he groans. His dirty words come close to pushing you over the edge.

“I’m so clo- clo close.” He’s left you a stuttering mess.

“Does pretty want to come?”

“Fuck,” you whine nodding your head.

“Do it then,” he says, thrusting harder.

Pulling your leg off his shoulder he quickly changes his position so he is hovering right over you. He keeps his pace as he leaves a trail of open mouth kisses from your chest up to your lips. The moment your lips together you moan into his mouth as you fall apart. Your walls flutter around him as a white hot wave crashes over you. He thrust into you over and over again as you ride out your high.

His thrust gets sloppier as he chases his own release. He comes painting your walls white moaning your name. He stays plastered on top of you riding out his release. Ever so slowly he pulls himself away from you. He sits back on his hunches watching for a moment as his release drips out of you. Reaching over to his nightstand where he keeps a box of tissues he always wipes his release before laying on the bed next to you. You’re absolutely exhausted and feel like you’re on the verge of falling asleep.

“Pretty?” He says pulling your sleepy body close to his.

“Yeah?”

“I meant what I said. I’ve always been right here, and I don’t want to be just friends.”

You smile nuzzling close to him, “Minho we’re definitely more than friends, and I’m glad you’ve always been right here.”

His lips gently press to the top of your head before you fall asleep in his arms.

Regarding taglist:

If you aren’t interacting with my writing outside of liking the new post I’m gonna have to remove your name from the taglist. You will also be removed if I try to tag you and your blog is listed as "invisible". If you've changed your URL and didn't let me know I will also be removing your name. I’m sorry for the inconvenience but my interactions outside or likes feels like it’s nonexistent right now. All of my taglist are still open though. If you request to be added to one via this form, I kindly ask for interactions in the form and feedback and reblogs. To be quite honest, those really encourage my writing.

[biancasreign]

KISS AND MAKE UP

Carmelo Hayes x Black female OC

Summary: Carmelo and Saniyah get into an argument and it’s tearing them apart.

“Y’all still not talking?”

“Nope, he pissed me off and I don’t want to be around him right now.” She rolled her eyes at her best friend.

“Now girl, I know you been walking around all sad and shit. You know you miss being up under that man.”

“I do but I just feel like he’s in the wrong. Like don’t tell me you not answering your phone isn’t that serious.”

“That’s true but I think the situation just escalated. You were already upset and he was drunk.”

“If you say so girl.” She mumbled and looked down at her phone. She knew both her and Melo were both stubborn so at this point it was a waiting game.

The two hadn’t spoke since yesterday morning when she cussed him out for not answering her the previous night and it was eating her up. She was craving her man’s touch, his kisses, and his scent but her pride wouldn’t allow her to call him.

“Isn’t he leaving to go back on the road Friday?”

“Yeah.” She mumbled.

“So y’all just aren’t going to talk? He’s going to go back on the road and then what? You’re not going to get any going away dick or anything?” Jania asked her best friend.

She knew how much her best friend was in love with Melo and it was only a matter of time before they were all up under each other again. Saniyah was a stubborn person that at times would escalate situations beyond where they needed to be.

“Ugh, I hate when you’re right. Let me go call my man.” She rolled her eyes and stood up from her bed.

“Alright girly, make sure you use protection!”

“Bye Jania!” She laughed before hanging up with her.

Saniyah got dressed in a black matching set and her furry slides that showed her freshly done white toes. She brushed her hair into a neat ponytail and added a bit of lip gloss on her thick lips. Leaving her house she nearly sped to Melos apartment complex and patiently waited for him to let her in.

“What’s up?” He answered the door wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants and the typical gold chain he always had on. Saniyah wanted to jump his bones right then and there but knew it wasn’t the time for that.

When she didn’t respond he sat down on the couch and sighed, mumbling something under his breath that she couldn’t make out.

“You shouldn’t be mad. You’re the one that’s in the wrong.” She pursed her lips at him.

“Did I not apologize three different times. You can be mad but I’m not about to kiss your ass Saniyah.”

“I’m not asking you to. I just want you to act like you care and stop being mean to me.” She sniffled making his heart ache. He hated when they got like this.

“Come here.” He reached his hand out and grabbed her by her waist, pulling her between his legs.

“I’m not being mean to you. Stop crying mama.”

“Yes you are. I haven’t heard from you since yesterday and all I wanted to know was you were okay. Now you’re mad at me.” She spoke between her sniffles.

“Im not mad at you and I understand why you were angry. That’s why I apologized but baby you gotta work in the way to talk when you’re upset.” He told her as he looked into her eyes.

He knew she was a big ass baby when it came to him but when she was upset her mouth was something serious. One thing he didn’t tolerate was disrespect not even from her.

“I know and I’m sorry. I was just scared that something happened to you.” She reached her hand up and rubbed his face.

“I ain’t mean to scare you baby. My phone died and when I got home I just crashed out. It won’t happen again, okay?”

“Okay baby. I love you.” She nodded her head.

“I love you too, give me a kiss.”

[ayyyez]

"Extra fandom options" she says, as if she means anything other than haikyuu 😂 Heheh of course you may do whatever you want always but you know what I'm here for, gotta be on brand.

SO if you have any thoughts of Tanaka and Ennoshita in a romantic relationship headcannons, either solo or in a poly relationship, I'd love to read them! Fluff and/or spicy, you know I'll happily read and gush over what you write. Thanks and you look good today!

Also first.

a/n: not these sitting in my inbox forever. But hey look I’ve finally gotten around to them bc I wanna think about hq while my sinuses hate me 😂 but im doing these first for you 🫡

Tags: relationship headcanons, fluff, kissing, spooning, confessing, poly (at the end)

Characters: Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Ennoshita Chikara (with x reader and poly [seperated])

Tanaka

God this guy is the most in love sap you would ever encounter but he’s so endearing.

After the whole ‘marry me’ Kiyoko situation he decides to hold back a little when he has a crush. But this is by Tanakas standards. His holding back is he very obviously has a crush on you but isn’t asking you out (or to marry you) right away.

Being near you and gestures are his go to. It’s canon. And how he reacts depends on how you are.

If you’re the type to go out of your way to talk to him then he’s like doki doki BEST DAY EVER! but also isn’t 10/10 intense every time you talk to him. He chills a little. BUT STILL DEDICATED TO YOU.

If you’re more naive or the shy type then just a small smile from you is enough to get him through the day. Very much oh boy they looked at me I’m the best wing spiker in the world.

To get into a relationship with him one of two things need to happen.

One: you gotta give him a sign that you are into him. Flirt-Tease him about his antics (particularly the taking shirt of woo) or just give him a compliment saying you’re into him. Give him smiles more than anyone else. Then he’s just ‘go out with me PLEASE.’

Two: ask him out. He will combust and Tanaka.exe will stop working for a moment. But then he’s like OKAY. (Doesn’t wanna fuck it up and over do it. It’s steered him wrong before)

Dating this guy means waking up the luckiest person ever. You are SPOILED with attention, gestures and affection.

Man is a personal heater. Big spoon, little spoon, doesn’t matter longs you be spooning.

A bit of a restless sleeper and sleep talker. It’s kinda funny the silly things he says. One time yelled ‘LEFFFFT’ in his sleep.

The only way to stop the wriggling is spooning him harder than you’ve spooned before. Still has a stray leg flicking every now and again but it’s better.

His first kiss has him sweating the details. Wants to make it perfect like in those manga he reads but overthinks it. He takes ages to do it if you want him to initiate.

Just kiss him honestly. The reaction is worth it. The reddest blush. Once again stops working.

Once he’s done it though his smooches are so good. Passionate boy starts soft then HES HUNGRY FOR MORE. Very intense. Kinda awkward with his tongue at first but he gets it.

He’s big on physical touch but it doesn’t have to be big. A hand held is gold to him. Cuddling is just something he lives for.

Cannot handle alcohol so you’re carrying (or organising others to) carry his ass home. Super sappy and happy drunk. ‘I love… youuuuuu’. A crier too. He just feels extra hard.

Get a couple into him though and he dances like no one’s watching. Actually not half bad until he starts stripping. Only you can stop him. He’s too obsessed with you to care about anything else he was doing.

Makeouts on the couch are BIG with him. Won’t take it further until you ask. Gotta be a gentleman. Yes even when his hands are squeezing your ass.

Ennoshita Chikara

The type to silently indulge in his crush every now and again while FIGHTING and PUSHING those feelings down.

At least, that’s how it is at first. He will be your friend first so he doesn’t want to compromise that. Just let’s pretend we don’t feel that for now shall we?

As if he could hold that back. It takes a while but it’s not long before something pushes him (he’s afraid of losing you) and he’s spilling his feelings.

He may be spilling but he’s seems like he’s confident with the monologue that comes out of his mouth. When he finishes his eyes are just wide and staring at your shoes. Evidently he was not so confident.

Grab one of this clenched fists. Pull his chin up to face you. Tell him you feel (maybe not in as many words as he did) the same way.

‘Are you sure!?’ ENNOSHITA PLEASE.

Honestly takes a while to accept it but once he does he is noticeably on top of the world.

Doesn’t announce it to the world but once people asks he’s smuggly like YEP WE ARE INDEED DATING peasants. Like damn Ennoshita.

A very caring and protective guy. Lets you do your thing while watching your back from the sidelines. Will punch people for you but won’t let that slip.

Very much a words of affirmation, tease and quality time dude.

Will go with the flow but will absolutely take charge.

His first kisses are those cute gesture ones. A kiss on the cheek, a peck on the lips or a smooch planted on the forehead.

You gotta grab this man by the cheeks and just plant one passionate kiss on him. That leaves him frozen for a second and then oop self control gone. MAKE OUT TIME.

More of an alone time physical touch guy but will break that when he’s particularly ehem into you. Or if some jerk thinks they can pick you up.

Plants one on you while maintaining eye contact with said jerk. Or places a very in your face arm around your shoulders.

Very much a big spoon guy. It just makes him feel protective. Also kind of like he’s leeching your hair warmth.

Pretty chill sleeper. Once he’s out he doesn’t move much. Sometimes you wake up facing him and he’s blowing air in your face (sleep breathing).

Kiss his nose and he’ll scrunch it in his sleep and let out a soft ‘mmm?’ But doesn’t wake up.

Tanaka and Ennoshita poly

You’re all in a relationship. Tanaka and Ennoshita included. Their crush on each other goes back a while they just never wanted to admit it.

You coming into their lives kind of makes it easier. Well eventually.

Once they realise they both have a crush on you both of them want to be the better man and let them have you. (Even if a small part inside them is screaming for the opposite).

It’s up to you to set them down and be like ‘nah uh I’ll have both’ and then also set them onto the path of realising they also like each other. It’s a very eventful week.

Ennoshita is still the big spoon. You’re the middle. Tanaka is either little or wrapped around you like a Koala. Depends on the day.

Ennoshita is the wrangler and kind of takes charge when he needs to. Tanaka is the passionate but also softy. It’s up to you whether you want to continuously go with the flow or take charge every now and again.

Just imagine sitting on the couch between them and taking turns making out. Start with Tanaka then come up for air and turn to Ennoshita. He’s a bit more intense when he’s second, handsy too. Then sit back and watch them kiss each other.

Every now and again you get home late and find them either cuddling or asleep in each others arms on the couch with some movie playing in the background.

Ennoshita brings his (grand) movie collection to the relationship. Tanaka brings his home gym. You tie it all together by hyping up both.

[hello0780]

solitaire Ranttttt

I love this book and I've read it at least 30 times. i just want to say before I start that these are my personal opinions about the book.

I know i said I've read it a lot but i still don't know everything so please don't get mad if i get any facts incorrect.

Solitaire starts as Victoria (tori) Spring is starting school after x-mas or winter break. Tori lives with her mom, dad, and two brothers, Charlie and Oliver. Charlie, who is also in the heartstopper comics, struggles with an ED. I truly think that this effects Tori's life a lot. I know its not Charlies fault but I'm sure tori is almost constantly worrying about him. Tori and her mother don't get along very well. I'm not entirely sure why they don't but i think they touch more on that fact in This Winter. I've read it but it was a long time ago and i really need a reread.

on a different note. I've been needed to talk about this but none of my friends care enough. This is a controversial opinion but i hate Becky. she is such a bitch to tori and i just can't stand her. i know most of the time when tori and her would fight it would be when Becky is drunk but that doesn't make anything she has done right. she dated Ben Hope, one of the worst people in the universe of solitaire. i guess i don't really have a true reason to hate her accept for the fact that i have had friends like Becky. its all fine and its a beautiful friendship, then out of nowhere they go behind you and become friends or start dating someone that isn't a good person. they don't know they are a bad person and you do. and if you try to tell them that they are a bad person they either don't care or they don't believe you. I truly don't get why people like Becky. this is way too much but I'm going to do it any way. I'm going to analyze one of their fights.

pages 226-228 Solitaire

Becky was kissing Ben Hope after 100% knowing how awful of a person he was and still is to her best friends little brother. Tori sees this happening at the Solitaire party and is furious. which is completely reasonable because of how actually nasty he is.

after ben walks off Becky asks tori what she's looking at. in the next bit tori just goes off on her saying stuff like "you are a nasty bitch," and "you just don't care, do you?"

"that's it isn't it? I'm you naive little friend whose sad little life makes you feel better about yourself. well, you're absolutely spot-on there. I haven't got a single clue about anything. But you know what i do know? I know when someone is being a nasty bitch. Go ahead and cry your little crocodile tears if you want to. You don't fucking care at all do you?" this is a rant Tori goes on while arguing. This leaves Becky absolutely speechless.

"well- you- you're the one being a nasty bitch! Jesus Christ just calm down." After Becky says this Tori tells the reader that, i quote, "this is bad. I need to stop. I can't" Tori is now aware that she can't help was she says anymore. She no longer trust Becky. She no longer has a "BFF". Becky has betrayed her.

Tori continues to yell at Becky. "I'm sorry - do you have any comprehension of the level of betrayal you have just reached? Do you have any concept of friendship? I didn't think it was possible for someone to be that selfish, but clearly i've been wrong all this time" Tori is very very upset now and then says " You've killed me. You've literally killed me."

Becky has single handedly DESTORYED Tori. Becky is awful, and of course she just tells her to calm down. she literally was just making out with a boy that SA'd HER BEST FRIENDS BROTHER! and she knew he did it. which is ACTUALLY INSANE!!!!!

just the amount of betrayal and shit she caused makes be fucking sick to my stomach. yeah i do know that its a fake story and they aren't real people. it's just the fact that people like Becky do really do shit like this. I can't believe people are actually capable of stuff like this.

i really need to shut up but i have two more quotes from Tori then I'll stop.

"You have solidly proven that everyone and everything is shit. well done. Gold star. please delete yourself from my life."

" i am gone. I am gone. I guess everyone is like this. Smiles, hugs, years together, holidays, late night confessions, tears, phone calls, one million words - they don't mean anything. Becky doesn't care. No one really cares."

thank you for listening/reading

[karizard-ao3]

Sex and sexuality is a prevalent theme in NGE, and especially in EoE. What are your thoughts about this?

I've been sitting on this one (and therefore the other asks in my inbox because I like to do them in order) for a few days to see if I could come up with a nice, coherent answer, but, as always, I can't so I must ramble instead.

One of the things I appreciate about the way sex/ sexuality is addressed in NGE/EoE is how messily and amorally it is portrayed, because I feel like that's very realistic. Clearly, it is important to apply morality to sex in practice (like, getting consent, respecting the sexual boundaries of your relationship(s), etc), but internally it's all a sloppy grey area, and sometimes people are going to do questionable things in moments of weakness (ex. try to hook up with an ex's bff who you don't even get along with because you're drunk and still upset about the breakup). And we see that a lot in Evangelion, as well as the characters' conflicting feelings about it.

For instance, Misato. Do I actually think she was attracted to Shinji? No. I think she cared about him very much as a guardian, but when she didn't know how to comfort him/ encourage him, she turned to offering sex. I read someone saying that she sees sex as a source of comfort due to sleeping with Kaji as a way to get over her father's death, which could be true, but I'm not sure that seems quite right to me. I believe she uses it as a tool in some ways. As an escape in others. And as a way to manufacture emotional connectedness in other instances. Sometimes all at once. And we see that she feels conflicted about it as well, because she's not sure if she loves Kaji or is using him. Then, Queen Daddy issues saw her ward in a bad spot and, with everything going to shit around them, she tries to use sex as a tool to motivate Shinji and also show him that she cares about him (even though it was so incredibly inappropriate 😭). Anyway, for Misato, sex is the cure to the hedgehog's dilemma, I suppose!

And then there's Shinji. The only time he seems able to make any kind of advance towards Asuka is when she is asleep, which I do not think is a sign that he is a predator but more an indicator of how deeply pervasive his inability to open himself up to other people is. It is *symbolic*. It's not okay what he did, but I think we are supposed to see it as a symptom of his own self loathing, and that he wants to reach out and touch people but is too afraid to make the move when they are able to perceive him doing it. Shinji masturbating to Asuka's exposed body at the hospital was obviously wrong, but it also seems like the summary of his relationship with her and the version of himself that exists through her. I'm trying to think how to describe it. i've written and deleted so many things. I don't know. Ugh. When she cannot see him, he can finally reveal how desperate he is for her to be with him. She is the one he seeks out when everything goes to shit, although if she were awake, I don't think he could have been so honest about how much he needed her. But she's in a coma so he is free to beg her to wake up, then, when her robe falls open... you know. It's like he's carrying out his half of a relationship in a bubble, without every offering her the chance to join him. And he hates himself for it, just like he hates himself for what he did in her hospital room. He knows masturbating to her unconscious body was wrong. He knows she is more than just jackoff fuel. He know she deserves to actually be held and loved. But he is immobilized by his fear of rejection and how others see him (and also so unbelievably horny because he's a teenage boy). The kiss between him and Asuka is really unfortunate because if either of them had just given the other any kind of indication that it was special to them in any way, I think things would have gone a lot differently. Shinji believes Asuka was just doing it because she was bored and mad about Kaji being out with Misato (right? Am I remembering the circumstances right?), and then, because Shinji just stood there, Asuka believes that Shinji only let her kiss him because she grabbed his nose and forced him, and not because of any affection for her. They were both too afraid to be honest. Maybe if Asuka had been more patient, Shinji would have closed the space and kissed her. Maybe if Shinji had held her, she wouldn't have run away after, screaming about it being a mistake. Maybe it wouldn't have gotten to the point where the hospital scene played out the way it did.

Which brings me to Asuka, who is the last one I will talk about because I think these three are the ones with the more convoluted attitudes towards sex and also this is already getting long. I think Asuka was really profoundly affected by her father finding and hooking up with another woman while her mother was ill (her mother's doctor, no less). I think it gave her the belief that a woman who is able to provide sex is a woman who will receive loyalty and love. She throws herself at Kaji, an adult who she feels safe with and wants the approval of, because, to her, that is the way to secure his affection. When we first meet her, she shows off how big her boobs got. Could that not be her way of announcing that she is lovable? But Kar, you might say, she freaks out about boys looking at her panties and things. To which I say: Yeah. She's 14. She's putting on a show, just like in everything else she does, trying to prove to everyone that she is worthwhile. Look how artlessly she comes on to both Shinji and Kaji. She wants to be seen as sexy and desirable because to her that's a means to an end, which is making sure people have a reason to want her around and notice her. What she really wants to be cherished. If Shinji had been able to show her that he reciprocated her interest/attraction, then I think there would have been a natural progression in their physical relationship. In closing, Asuka exists in a perpetual state of conflict because she demands love in whatever way she thinks the can obtain it, but she does not actually know what the love she needs looks like. I think if someone simply hugged her and stroked her hair and told her how brave she's been, she would sob for a day and a night.

Whew. And, of course, my thoughts might change after I finish my rewatch and eventually get my hands on the rebuild movies and rewatch in the future, but that's where I am on the subject right now. And I didn't even address Shinji and Kaworu. But, I think that whole thing is pretty straightforward. Kaworu pretty much ignores all of Shinji's reservations and showers him in praise and affection and Shinji goes all heart eyes because it's the first time he's felt wanted and he's bi.

[4ngeldusstt]

“ J U S T L I K E Y O U ”

A/N: Some cute Levi fluff your all of u to enjoy! <3 i got 1 request only, so feel free to send more!

Word count: 1.194

Warnings: none

You landed as your boots touched the hard pavement, whipping away the nasty titan blood that somehow splattered on your face with the back of your hand an obvious disgust look appeared on your face, you hated the feeling of being dirty. A loud thud was heard as the dead body of the titan you just killed fell behind you.

“She is like a female version of you Levi.” Hange teased her comrade as she eyed you obtaining a “tsk” sound from the raven haired man as he looked away from the scene. You joined the pair greeting them with the warmest smile, one that could make anyone instantly melt from the sight, even humanity’s strongest soldier. “It’s crazy how when you are in killing mode your facial expression is terrifying Y/N, but when you snap out of it it’s like you’re a different person you’re all smiles, being cute and sweet almost like an angel.” Hange was impressed with you, well all the superiors were, you being the best cadet they had ever since Levi joined the Scouts back in the day was something they never thought it could be possible.

“What do you think Levi?” She elbowed him with a teasing smile. “She’s good and gets the job done what else do you want me to say shitty glasses?” He would never admit it but he noticed it too, how your personality drastically changes depending the situation and how he also thought you were an angel an angel that was a killing machine, he loved the duality you had. Despite him being so serious and cold to everyone all the time somehow you had nothing but smiles and kindness for him in return.

The mission was a success, once back in the survey corps headquarters Erwin thought it was a good idea to celebrate the fact that titans were killed and every scout made it back alive bringing food and drinks for the cadets to enjoy, some fun every once in a while is not a bad thing is it?

You were with your usual friend group Sasha, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie and Eren. Sitting in our usual table as they all experienced the effects of alcohol, you never drank you hated the taste and the feeling of being drunk tea was your favorite drink, you liked going to the city every once in a while to spend money on the best tea you could get. “Come on Y/N, get that shitty tea out of my sight and drink some beer with us!” Eren loudly said as he offered you his cup “hey! My tea is not shitty it’s actually a really expensive mix of leaves, I only like the best of the best you fucker!” You playfully said back with a grin, side eying your corporal as you said the last part. It was true, you only like the best of the best, so of course you had to like humanity’s best soldier.

“See, she is just like you Levi, I never thought I’d see someone that was a tea freak just like you.” Hange said to Levi as they observed the ambient from afar noticing the subtle look you shot him. Erwin laughed as he agreed with Hange “I see how you always look at her. You should ask her out, or some of those kids will take her away from you.” His superior added to the conversation. Obtaining an annoyed look from the man, he didn’t take his eyes off you during the whole night, you were too good for him, he thought, “I don’t want to ruin her.” His voice stern but soft, his comrades taking notice of his words “maybe she is what you need Levi, maybe she will bring some light into your darkness.” “You deserve to be loved too, captain.” His friends stated, they were not wrong though, maybe you were all he needed.

Levi’s gaze followed your small frame as you excused yourself from your friends and made your way to the nearest exit, he didn’t hesitate to follow you minutes after. Once he made it out the door he saw you sitting on a set of stairs admiring the starry night sky “there’s a party or whatever going on inside you know? What are you doing outside brat, you’ll get sick.” You slightly jumped at his voice, not expecting anyone to be there. The warm feeling of your captains cloak was nice in comparison of the cold air that blowed that night. Muting a small thank you at the gesture.

Turning your head to face the man, that was now seated next to you. “I’m not much of a party girl, I get overwhelmed very easily in situations like this, where there is a lot of people and a lot of noise.” You quietly answered his initial question, “I get it, now I understand why everyone tells me we are alike.” He mutters, “they tell you that? I get that too, It’s funny cause I see it too, we might have some things in common I think.” Your smile making him feel nervous, in the best way possible. “Don’t look at me like that.” He couldn’t face you not with you giving him that soft smile, looking at him with those kind eyes, it was too much, if he kept looking at you he might do something he was trying with all his strength to fight away.

“What do you mean Captain?” Your innocence was something he loved about you. “If you keep looking at me like that I will have no other option than to kiss you.” He whispered loud enough for you to hear. “Then I’ll keep staring at you like this until you kiss me.” Your voice mimicking his tone. He slowly turned his head facing you again, “kiss me Levi.” He couldn’t handle the urge any longer, his hand cupping your cheek caressing it softly with his thumb, his grey eyes going from your own to your lips back and forth taking in how perfect you looked with only the moon light hitting your factions, slowly leaning in until his lips touched yours, the kiss was soft and filled with emotions that were held for too long, after a few seconds it became more passionate as if you both were trying to show through it how much you waited for this to happen and how much you cared for each other.

He broke the kiss leaning his forehead against yours whispering “Be mine, Y/N.” Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. “I’ve been yours since the day I met you, Levi.” His arms holding you tight against his chest, tears threatening to fall in his eyes, is this what love feels like? Was this the love he has never felt like he deserved before? He was eager for you to love him and take care of him like no one ever has done before and in return he is willing to let you in and love you with this whole entire being and take the best care of you for the rest of his life.

[lightupmyass]

Drive Me Fucking Crazy

Pairing: Nahoya Kawata x OC (Unmei or reader)

Warnings: Slight aggression, little bit of angst, little bit of make up sex, established relationship, possessiveness, lots of dirty talk, slight breeding at the end, rough, Nahoya just being dirty and making her know she belongs to him

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since he touched her. Her overly sexual boyfriend never went this long without kissing her, groping her, or pinching her to tease her. It made her scared that she might be the problem, maybe he just wasn’t in love with her, maybe she was ugly now or something like that. She’d looked at herself in the mirror a million times, wondering what it might be. Maybe he was bored of her? Maybe she was too plain looking? It could’ve been a million things, she couldn’t possibly pick just one thing. But, an idea formed in her head that she figured might work. She went out and bought the cutest little lingerie set, a pretty pale peach color with lace and a matching sheer robe with a silky ribbon to tie it together. She was sure this would work, make him at least look at her. She felt confident, twirling in the mirror and feeling good about herself. And when she heard the door open, she knew it was her chance, peaking out from their bedroom door as she watched him walk in, a smile creeping into her lips.

“Fuck!” He shouted, throwing his backpack at the wall before roughly tugging his hat of, trying to rip his hair tie on it and groaning in frustration when it got tangled, as it always did. “Dammit!” He yelled, trying to yank it out. Her smile faded, realizing that it was another fruitless night as she sighed, opening the door and walking over, dejected. “Hey, let me help. You’re gonna rip your hair out.” She said softly, reaching up to stop his hands. He huffed, going over to sit on the couch so she could carefully untangle it from behind, crossing his arms like a child as he grumbled. “Stupid fucking curls. Always get stuck in shit and ruin fucking everything.” He groaned. She finally got it out, patting the top of his head softly as he kept ranting about how much he hated his hair. At this point, she already knew her plan had failed, so if she was going to have to sit through another night of him either venting or ignoring her completely, she was going to get through it drunk. She grabbed some whiskey and two glasses, putting ice in them and setting them on the coffee table, pouring the amber liquid into them and handing him one as she sat down next to him, downing hers in one gulp and pouring more. He also drank it in one gulp, getting up and sighing. “I’m going to shower.” He said, the grin he always wore contrasting the dark, irritated tone in his voice as he left her by herself with the alcohol.

It was hopeless, no matter what, she knew tonight was not going to be the night, and she didn’t know what else she could do to get him to even look at her. He hadn’t even looked at the outfit she got, and it made her see red. She went through so much to look cute so he would at least acknowledge her, and he couldn’t even spare her a glance? The longer he spent in the bathroom, the more she was able to drink until the room started swaying a bit. When the bathroom door opened, she was already lost in a trance as she watched the TV silently, Nahoya sitting down next to her and huffing as he towel dried his hair. She was hyper aware of the fact he was shirtless, smelling nice and fresh from his shower, skin still warm as she unconsciously reached out for his arm, trailing her fingernails along his skin. “Mm…you smell good…” She hummed, resting her head on his shoulder. “Well duh, I just fucking showered. You’re drunk. You’re too warm.” He mumbled, pushing her off of him. Her jaw dropped, lips forming a pout as she put her hand over his, placing it on her bare thigh and moving it up and down. “Baby, just tell me what’s wrong. Every night you come home and you’re so mad, I just want to help you feel better. Can’t you just look at me at least?” She begged, pushing her breasts together with her arms, hoping that’d get his attention. “Jesus fuck, can I not have some time to myself? I busy my ass all fucking day at the shop, gotta cook all the food by myself, I just want some peace and fucking quiet when I get home. Is that really too much to fucking ask?” He huffed, tearing his hand away from her, still not even looking at her.

She was frozen. The shock and pain she felt from his words were enough to send her over the edge, jaw tightening as she got up. “Fine. I’m going to bed. Fucking stupid. Should’ve known better than to think you’d actually fucking give a shit.” She huffed, getting up and bending over a bit to grab the bottle and take it with her. Those words, that was the final snap for him, making him look at her and finally see what she was wearing, her ass on full display in front of his face. But, he couldn’t pay attention to that when her words struck a nerve. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He asked, titling his head to the side as he looked up at her. “Nothing. It means fucking nothing. Good night.” She sighed, turning to walk away.

“Nah nah nah, we ain’t doin’ that.” He tsked, keeping her in place, still bent over as he stood up, putting his hands on her hips. “Hoya, let go.” She grumbled, trying to stand up and wiggle out of his grasp. However, he put his hand between her shoulder blades and pushing her back down, her back arching as she pressed back into him due to her lack of balance. “What’s all this, huh? You put all this on to give me a little show? What, you go a couple days without my dick and you turn into a bitch?” He hummed, his eyes scanning over her back, watching the way her ass jiggled when he pulled it back harshly against him, making her yelp. “Let go of me! It hasn’t been days, it’s been weeks. Too fucking busy all the time to even look at me, so if you won’t play with me, I’ll go do it myself.” She huffed, struggling against him. He laughed loudly, pulling her up and turning her around. ‘You’re gonna go do it yourself, huh? That’s what you think? Fine, let’s go.” He taunted, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the bedroom, flinging her onto the bed. “Hoya! What the hell?” She cried out, scooting to the top of the bed as he leaned against the dresser, crossing his arms. “You wanna do it yourself, go right ahead. I bet you can’t even make yourself cum, let alone cum as hard as you do when I fuck you.” He said, his signature smile fading a bit as his eyes opened slightly, peering at her with slight malice. The fact that he had the audacity, that he could stand there so confidently, like she can only feel pleasure from him, that made her even angrier, making her get up and try to push him to the side to get into the dresser. “Move.” She huffed, nudging him. When he wouldn’t budge, she threw her hands in the air, engraved at this point. “Nahoya, move so I can fucking get my shit!” She shouted, the shit eating grin coming back. “Nope. You don’t get to use those. You said you’d go fuck yourself, toys aren’t allowed.” He told her, making her gasp. “That’s not fucking fair! Fuck you, Nahoya! Such a fucking ass!” She shouted, turning around.

“No, you know what’s not fucking fair? What’s not fair is that I have to bust my ass all day every day just to come home and have you instantly clinging to me! Do you know how fucking annoying it feels to just want to shower and relax and you’re glued to my side? When I come home, I just want to clean all the nasty shit off me and you won’t stop fucking touching me!” He admitted, her heart sinking as she sat on the edge of the bed. “What, do you think I just sit around and do nothing all day? I work too, you know. And when I come home, I wanna relax too, and I want to help you relax.” She told him, making him scoff. “Being Mitsuya’s assistant isn’t fucking work. That’s not hard. You sit around and watch him work and make coffee. You don’t actually do anything, that’s not a real fucking job.” He spat, making her gasp. “Are you fucking serious? I schedule events, I call people every day, I research, I do fucking everything except the designing in that studio! You know what? I’m fucking done.” She huffed, going to the closet. “What do you mean you’re done? I’m still fucking talking to you.” He shouted as she shook her head. “I’m done talking to you. If you wanna bitch and whine about me just trying to help you, then I won’t anymore. You can have your fucking alone time. I’m out of here.” She huffed, throwing clothes into a bag. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to stay here and be told that he hated the way she tried to show him affection.

His head was fuming, his heart hurting as he watched her pack. He couldn’t let her leave, there was no way. How could he give her the attention she needs when he was too exhausted after each work day? How could she even think about leaving him after everything he’s done for her? He loved her, for fucks sake, and all he asked for was a couple of minutes to himself when he got home, and now she’s fucking leaving him over that? No way, he wasn’t going to let that happen. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew it’d been far too long since he’d had the energy to give her what she needed, but he had the energy today, and he was going to use it, especially now that blood was pumping in every part of his body, especially where he needed it to. Hands were on her hips in an instant, pulling her back as she dropped the clothes, her body jolting upright as she felt him pressing into her, his cock hard in his pajama shorts. “Let go.” She huffed, her chest heaving as she tried to ignore it and stay mad, the alcohol making her hyper focus on it instead. “Aw, what’s the matter? You’re just gonna walk out on me? Dressed like that? You really think I’m gonna let anyone see MY baby dressed like that?” He hummed, trailing his hand over the front of her body, starting at her throat to lean her head back against his shoulder and moving down, over her breasts and down her tummy until it slipped between her thighs, pressed tight together. “This is what you’re so mad about, ain’t it? That I haven’t touched you, that I haven’t been dicking you down every night lately? So, if I fuck you, you’ll shut the fuck up, right?” He asked, his lips right next to her ear, her eyebrows furrowing as she tried to focus not in the way the unusual baritone in his voice gave her goosebumps and more on the fact that he was still acting like an ass. “You don’t get it. Just let me go, Hoya.” She pouted, tilting her head to the side as she felt his lips brush over her skin.

Her words fueled him, they way she said to let her go even though he could hear the breathlessness in her voice, the way he could just know her eyelids fluttered shut as she trembled under his touch. “I don’t get it, huh? I think I do, though. Pretty baby’s just so fucking needy that she can’t handle a couple weeks so her man can start up his dream business? That right?” He hummed, moving them slowly to the edge of the bed and bending her over, his hand flat on her back as he rubbed against her. “Just so fucking cock hungry that she had to buy this little get up just so she could tempt me to stuff her little pussy so full, isn’t that right? It’s pretty. Like this lil ribbon.” He chuckled, pulling the silk out off and grabbing her wrists, holding them behind her back and tying them together. “Hoya, what are you-ow!” She squealed as his hand slapped against her ass, so hard it left a small print. “Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy, you know that? Piss me off one second and make me hard the next. Feel it? Ain’t this what you’ve been wanting, baby?” He taunted, rubbing against her core as she stood on her tiptoes, eyes rolling back at the friction. She couldn’t help the way her body shook as he brushed up against her just right, burying her face in the blankets to muffle the whimper she couldn’t hold back. “Yeah, this is what you fucking want. Just say it and I’ll give it to ya. Say ‘I was only a bitch because I wanted your dick.’ And you’ll get it.” He laughed, her eyes widening. “I am not being a-ah! Fuck!” She yelped, lurching forward as he thrust hard against her, hearing their skin slap as her backside bounced against his abdomen. “Fuck! Okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, Hoya, I just wanna feel you, I wanna be close to you, wanna show you how much I love you. That’s all I wanted to do. Just wanted to love you.” She whimpered, holding back a sob as tears started staining the blanket. He stood still as he looked down at her, frowning as he heard the little hiccups. He moved them a bit, arching her back more and pulling himself out of his pants, lining up with her entrance and rubbing over it, thankful she gets wet when she’s drunk.

He leaned forward, slipping his hand around her neck and pulling her up against him and gripping her throat, gently as he pushed into her, hearing her moan loudly next to his ear as he sunk all the way in. He groaned low, his head falling forward as his fingers found their way to her lips, slipping into her mouth as her tongue swirled around them. He pulled out with a shaky breath before giving an experimental thrust, making her moan again as her mouth hung open with his fingers still on her tongue. “Fuck, that’s it. Pussy’s always so good for me. Feel so fucking good, baby.” He moaned, kissing her cheeks and he started moving, sliding in and out of her. Her brain instantly went numb, eyes rolled back and drool leaking from her tongue as she moaned uncontrollably. She knew she was needy, but she didn’t know just a few thrusts after so long would have her seeing stars already. He didn’t want to admit it, but he missed the way she clamped around him, the vice grip she always had around him, milking him for all he’s worth. “Okay, you’re right, it’s been too fucking long, shit! Ah, feel so good, baby. So fucking good. Love it when you, oh fuck, that’s it.” He moaned as she wiggled her ass back against him, squeezing tighter and sucking on his fingers. “Just like that. Doing so good for me, sweetheart. Always take this cock so fucking good, fucking takin’ it like a champ.” He groaned, licking behind her ear as he picked up the pace, the sound of their skin and the movement of the bed bouncing off the walls.

Nahoya let go of her, letting her collapse onto the bed in favor of watching the mesmerizing ripples of her ass cheeks as he slammed into her, gripping and massaging the flesh as he twitched inside of her. Unmei raised onto her tiptoes, knowing just how to get the best angle to have him hit the perfect spot inside and make her feel the best. This is exactly what she needed, after weeks of failed attempts to get off with her hand and the little vibrator they kept, all she needed was him, she always knew that. Nahoya wasn’t doing much better, already out of breath with sputtering hips. His moans were loud, Nahoya grabbing his shirt and pulling it up to bite down on the fabric, needing to get a better view of the way her pussy swallowed his fat cock so eagerly, the shaft coming out shiny and dripping in her arousal each time he pulled out. If he could keep this sight on replay for the rest of his life, he would. He felt a little bad that he went so long without touching her, but with the way she was pushing back on him, eager to please and take him, would it be so bad if he did it more often? Was he really that toxic?

“Hoya~! Feels so good. So good. Of fuck.” She babbled, shushing her face into the mattress to hide the loud whine she let out. He let his jaw go slack to drop his shirt, moaning and laughing. “I know, babe. Feels real fuckin’ good. Shit, pussy of yours is to die for.” He agreed, maneuvering her around how he wanted. He flipped her onto her side, one leg over his shoulder and the other dangling to the sides he spread her open, reaching up to pull the top of her dress down and expose her bouncing tits. She gasped and moaned, throwing her head back as he pinched and squeezed her breast, letting him take over the thrusts as she laid back and took it, the pace picking up along with the squelching sounds. “Pretty fucking dress. Pretty fucking pussy. My pretty girl. All mine, right? Can’t walk out on me, I’m all you fuckin’ need. No one else gets to see you like this ever. Right?” The possessive tone was driving her insane. She loved it when he got jealous, when he wanted her to know she was his. She gulped and nodded, looking up at him with lust and love swirling in her hazel eyes as she grabbed his wrist. “All yours. No one else. Promise. Just you. Only for you.” She assured him, giving him her signature sweet smile. He gave her the same, dragging his hand down her torso and pressing his thumb to her clit. “Damn right, all mine. That’s my baby.” He chuckled, happier than ever as her walls fluttered around him.

He was fast, rough, rubbing cycles into her bud until she could feel her body trembling, the waves of pleasure surfing through her and making her toes curl. “Oh fuck. Shit! Hoya! Go faster, ‘m almost, ah!” Nahoya flipped her back over again, moving her up the bed a bit so he could climb on, kneeling behind her and slipping back in. He grabbed her arms, pulling her up off the mattress so she only had her knees and his strength to keep her upright. “Faster? Want it fast and hard, huh? Just wanna be fucked dumb on this dick, that right?” He asked, keeping himself completely buried and not moving waiting for her to beg. Unmei nodded, choking on a sob as her high faded away, much to her dismay. “Please! Please, Hoya, wan’ it so bad. Just wanna cum, please, baby.” She whined, wiggling her hips again to encourage him to keep going. He smiled, dropping her back onto the bed and putting his hands on her back, making her arch more. “Alright alright, I GUESS I’ll be nice. Just make sure you cum hard and scream my name, kay?” He laughed, not wasting any more time before thrusting hard again.

The brutal pace had her vision going blurry, each snap of his hips making the headboard hit the wall, sure to deepen the dents already there. “Shit! Ah, fuck! That’s it, baby. Take it. I know you can. Gonna fill you up for being so good. Want that?” He asked, laughing when she babbled incoherently. She could barely even hear him, the pleasure too much and making her ears ring, the moans and whimpers the only sounds leaving her lips. “Dumb already? Guess you really love my cock that much. No one else can make you feel this good. Only me. I’m the only one that gets to cream these insides.” He couldn’t help it, just seeing her try to walk out earlier sent him feral, he had to make sure she knew no one else could make her feel the way he does. Even though she already knew it, he couldn’t ever let her forget.

He knew all the telltale signs, her walls clamping and fluttering around him, her hips rocking back shamelessly, pretty manicured nails digging into the comforter. She was leaking, her essence dripping down her thighs as the wet, nasty sounds of her pussy got even louder, driving him wild. It was making it easier to move faster, his hips snapping at almost an inhuman pace until her moans turned into loud gasps, screams as she reached back to grab his wrist. He watched as she turned her head to the side, her mouth hung open as she cried out, pussy squeezing the life out of him as she came hard. “Fuck! Holy fucking shit! Cumming!” He groaned, slamming into her one more time before he let himself go, slipping so deep inside of her he hoped it’d never come out. Maybe she’d learn her lesson then.

Nahoya collapsed on top of her, her legs falling as they laid together and caught their breath, his weight on top of her soothing. He sighed, rolling onto his side and spooning her, keeping himself nuzzled inside of her as he grew soft to keep everything from leaking out, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her neck and shoulders. Unmei’s eyelids fluttered shut as she smiled and giggled, placing her hand over hers as she relaxed. “Don’t ever make me wait that long again.” She breathed out, the vibration of his laugh making her heart flutter. “Aw, you really need me that bad, Angel?” He teased, Unmei slapping his hand. “I know, I know. I won’t, promise. Need you too bad for that. Love you, baby.” He cooed, kissing her ear lobe. “Love you too. Now, get off so I can go clean up.” She insisted, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. But, he kept her firm in his arms, clicking his tongue. “Nah, don’t think so. Wanna stay just like this.” He shook his head, only moving to have her face him while still keeping himself inside. That was the main thing he wanted, to stay snug and warm in her pussy, make sure all of him stayed tucked inside. Unmei didn’t really mind, she liked the intimacy of it, but Nahoya was definitely letting his toxic and possessive side get the best of him in that moment. If it meant keeping her around forever, one kid wouldn’t hurt, right?

[hedwig221b]

hiiii!! if you’re still taking sterek prompts: set in college, sterek are finally together! boyd, erica, issac, and kira are so so happy for them and glad that derek has found love with stiles but they miss hanging out with their friend!! derek is spending all of his time with stiles and they really understand that but they miss derek, maybe stiles overhears them talking about it and feels guilty that he’s taking up derek’s time and tries to get derek to hang out with his friends more

“What did he say?” Kira chirped, looking up at Erica with lifted eyebrows.

Erica huffed and turned her phone to show her the screen. It was a bit too sad to see how quickly Kira’s hopeful smile dwindled down to a dejected pout. “‘No’. Again. Fucking dickhead.”

“Erica.”

“What?” She turned to Boyd, who was watching as the girls touched up their make up in front of the mirror. “Am I wrong? He ditched us! We’ve known him since fucking high school. And you,” she thrust her finger at Kira, ignoring her puppy eyes, “are basically his sister. The only one who’s sane. And he fucking—”

“Well, it’s kind of expected,” Isaac muttered, glaring at his phone where he had just lost a game. “He pined for Stilinski since fucking forever, so…”

“Listen, I’m happy he’s getting laid.” Erica swiveled towards him with a sarcastic smile and spread her arms. “I’ll be the first to buy him a fucking balloon set and a gift basket, but this is ridiculous.”

“You just can’t stand being ditched,” noticed Boyd.

“And you can? This is the third time!” She turned back to the mirror and smashed the top of her lipstick case closed with a bit too much force. “I fucking miss his stupid face.”

“Me, too,” Kira sighed.

All of them looked at each other.

“Let’s go get drunk,” Boyd grunted, standing up.

*

“What do you mean ‘No’?”

“Mmm.”

“Derek—” Stiles grabbed him by the hair and pushed him up, away from his neck. The sight of his half-lidded eyes and a soft smile made Stiles’ face burn and his heart tickle. Concentrate! “Why aren’t you going?”

Derek made an attempt to dive back to kissing Stiles’ neck and rolled his eyes when Stiles didn’t let him.

“Stiles…”

“Derek.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Derek huffed. “No, I don’t want to go out. I’ve only just got you, baby, I want to spend all my time with you.”

Stiles sighed and traced his fingers down Derek’s face and scruff. He understood Derek’s feelings, probably more than anyone else, because he, too, wanted to glue himself to the man and never fucking let go. Like, what do you mean Derek fucking Hale wants to date him? To look at Stiles, touch him, kiss, make love with him. The same Derek who Stiles was sighing over for so long?

Sometimes, Stiles stared at Derek’s possessive hand spread over his thigh and wonder how the hell did he get this? What brain disease made this Greek god, this insanely funny and sharp-witted confident man turn his attention onto Stiles?

“But… Don’t you miss your friends?”

Derek stared at him with narrowed eyes. He was lying on his front between Stiles’ spread thighs — the sight of heavenly dreams, yes, please; his fingers flexed on Stiles’ sides a bit, as if he wanted to pierce the claws into him.

“Did you get tired of me?” he asked out of the blue.

“Wh— No!”

“Do you want space? I know we moved too fast, but I just can’t fucking get enough of you—”

This man. Stiles was going to become insane.

“I don’t want space,” he tried to smooth out Derek’s frown with his thumbs. “If I could I’d become a leech and attach myself to you. Wait.” Stiles froze. “Is that weird?”

“It’s not.”

Stiles bit his lip to keep the smile in. “Would you love me if I was a wo—”

“Don’t.”

Stiles snorted. “What I mean is…” He sighed. “I know what it’s like to be a friend who’s ditched because of a partner.” His careful gaze met Derek’s intense one. “It’s not a good feeling. And I don’t want your friends to hate me.”

“I won’t let them.”

“Go then! Like, what if you break up with me tomorrow and go to them and— Ouch!” Stiles rubbed his left pec that Derek just sank his teeth in.

“Not tomorrow, not next month, and, guess what, not even next year.” Derek pierced him with his glare. He lifted himself up on the elbows, loomed over Stiles and kissed him hard. “Don’t even fucking think about it,” he bit out into Stiles’ lips, making his heart shiver from the possessiveness in his tone. “You’re not getting away from me.”

“Okay, big bad wolf, Little Red got the message.” Stiles murmured, patting Derek on the sides. Internally, he was squealing from joy. “You’ll chase after me and my pierogi until— Stop biting!”

Derek didn’t look sorry at all, just arched an eyebrow. Stiles sighed and put his hands around Derek’s massive shoulders to urge him to lay down again. “Let’s at least pretend not to be so toxic about each other, okay?”

“We’re not toxic.”

“You’re lucky I’m as obsessed with you as you are with me. Otherwise, you’d get a touch too familiar with my Dad’s intimidation tactics.”

“I want to meet your dad,” Derek frowned at him.

Stiles stared at him. “I can’t decide whether you are a figment of my salivating imagination or you’re simply insane.”

“He’s your dad.”

This. Man.

“You’ll get to experience my annoying clinginess, I promise you. But tonight we are going to pretend that we can exist without being in the immediate vicinity of each other; you are going to go to your friends, have fun and get shitfaced.”

“Baby…”

“Nuh-uh. I need to finish my conspectus anyway, and you’re distracting.”

Derek’s sigh was so deep, one would think Stiles forced him to go take an exam.

“As you wish, princess.” Derek smirked at the blush on Stiles’ face. “You won’t remember any of your notes anyway.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m going to fuck your brains out when I come back.”

Stiles snorted, then fell apart in giggles, as Derek sucked a goodbye kiss on the base of his neck.

*

LOML: I love you

You: I love you too. having fun?

LOML: lvoe uou

Stiles’ heart did an excited screeching massive rollercoaster swerve. With a tight lodge in his throat, Stiles threw himself on the bed and stared at his too-bright screen in the darkness of his quiet room. And stared, and stared…

You: got it

LOML: Erica s yellin at Isaac

You: ?

LOML: she wants to bee my maid f honor at our weddinge

LOML: kiras crying bc she wants it tooo

LOML: can I have four poeple f honor? pls kitten

You: sure

LOML: I loooe yoi

You: love you too