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twstedstoryshop · 9 months ago

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FINALLY, I return properly. Kind of. Reason I've been away for so long was because of insane convention season and also had this bad boy in the works. This is one of two commissions done for a friend. Hope you all can enjoy yourselves for the crumbs I produce. -SK

CONTENT WARNING: Blood, violence, depressed s/o, and mentions of toxic past relationships.

Your New Boyfriends Runs Into Your Ex

While Rook Hunt was one of many to find camaraderie in a den of villains, that didn’t mean chivalry was dead to him. Certainly not him.

Under his keen gaze, he knew that when a certain topic was broached, you would shy away instantly. Paled knuckles, a panicked gaze, and your bottom lip near to splitting open by how badly you chewed down.

It was like he was seeing a rabbit or deer caught in a trap, frantic with no escape. Though his heart had been trained to a perfect steel and not feel for his quarry, when he sees that look in your eyes, all defenses fall away.

The topic? Well, the worries of what the future held for you. Moreso in far off days. Would you continue to have your friends by your side? Would someone ever cherish you? Have a deeper connection?

For Rook, it was a no-brainer because of course! Who else was more worthy of adoration and praise than his dear petite grâce? As he would declare this in all his usual grandeur, a small smile would form on your lips, but that happiness never reached your eyes.

Doubt clouded that sweet gaze of yours. In its own way, seeing such clear eyes be veiled by sadness was heartachingly beautiful. Yet it was a beautiful scene Rook couldn’t bear to behold for too long.

When it came to keeping track of you, Rook was extra considerate. If one can call it that… In his mind, he kept careful track of those you interacted with. He watched your mannerisms, your dialogue, anything amiss he would file it away. But for the longest time, it didn’t seem like an outside force was troubling you.

For a moment, Rook considered that whatever wounded your heart was a scar from a distant past he had yet to uncover. What he didn’t expect was said wound abruptly appearing on a normal day.

From a vantage point, perhaps from a second story window or among the trees that dotted the campus, Rook had caught sight of you stone-still on your walk. Before you, an NRC student he couldn’t recall. He didn’t really have time to register the man when Rook had just attention all on you.

Your wide, hollow eyes. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. How you froze so perfectly under the gaze of this man. It was a scene Rook was all too familiar with. Prey terrified beyond its own mind to run, to hide, or even fight.

Your rational mind couldn’t comprehend what your ex was even saying to you as panic held you in its overbearing clutch. The world grew dizzying and just when you felt like your heart would give out, right then and there, a broad arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“Ah, there you are, ma petite grâce. I was looking all over for you. You made me a bit worried, you know!”

It was hard to look up at him as Rook’s hat was tipped just enough for the shadows to mask his features. But your ex needed only one glance for the role of prey to be forced on him. Green eyes with a gaze so sharp, so precise like a notched arrow perfectly aligned to fire, bored right into him.

It didn’t take much time before the ex backpedaled away with his tail between his legs, now only leaving you with Rook.

Rook would face you, gripping your forearms firmly. His expression, soft though. He called out for you, trying his best to snap you from your daze. When you finally realized it was him now before you, your body moved on its own before you could think. A heaviness made you fall against his chest. You shivered, maybe tears and sobs escaping you.

Rook held you so close against him. Like he was cradling a sculpture of the most delicate porcelain. As if one scratch or knock would crumble you into fine dust.

A single hand held the back of your head protectively, letting you weep as much as you wanted against his shirt. His chin nestled along your hair. You would be so blissfully unaware of Rook’s gaze. A complicated stare into space as his mind swam with many thoughts.

Rook always found beauty in the oddest of places. Yet for the first time, there was something Rook found utterly detestable. A vile image that was a blot in his picturesque vision and that was your ex, the source of your pain. But from that ugliness, he did find a most exquisite sensation. A drive to hunt. An unyielding need to protect you.

While he couldn’t spring into action earlier, his quarry was marked. A hunter is patient and he can wait as long as he needs to for one slip-up, one more attempt to dare get near you, and Rook would be sure to let loose a vicious arrow.

There is a tension between you and Floyd on certain days. While most times, it would be all fun and games, just him and his little Shrimpy. But Floyd wasn’t blind to the weight you carried.

It would irritate him on a dime when you obviously had thoughts clouding your mind. So much so that you fidget anxiously or not even pay attention to him. His sharp voice would call over the din of thoughts and you’d see the eel practically inches away from your face.

His dual colored eyes glared at you and a slight frown pulled at his lips. “Geez, what the hell is goin’ on with you!?” He doesn’t mean to be so crass, but to see his Shrimpy unsettled, it frustrated him.

Moreso that he can’t exactly pinpoint what was going on with you, that he can’t just squeeze it to a pulp and boom, no more problems!

He knew you had your walls and such walls took time to lower to let him in. Floyd had the patience as a waiting moray eel, but if he had the proactiveness to actually act upon his patience? That’s a whole other story. When it came to you, he just wanted to see you happy and unbothered. All reasoning would flutter out the window.

It may or may not have taken a lot of squeezing and thinly veiled threats to your friends for them to fess up information you couldn’t bear to unload on Floyd. A common name would be passed around, an ex from your past. Just the thought that someone else had their hands on you nearly made Floyd break bones if not for the pitiful yelps of your friends to release them in time.

Questions whirled in that skull of his. Why have you never brought this up to him? What did this ex do to you that made you shy away from him? Where was this scumbag now? All of these worries would bleed into his daily life and if it weren’t for Jade and Azul to straighten him out, he would have been throwing tantrums left and right.

It wasn’t until one day that all his frustrations would come to a boiling point into a final, satisfying crescendo. At least for him.

Work was to be done at Mostro Lounge. Floyd was on duty to be a waiter along with yourself. Both of you have opted to be in an awkward silence in your relationship and it was evident by how you both avoided one another, unsure of how to really talk about your issues.

Floyd had taken an order from a particular student, one he could easily sniff out as a rude bastard by his mannerisms and his tones. But if Floyd’s temper got the better of him, he’d never hear the end of it from Azul. He would hand off the order to you to at least serve drinks.

Everything seemed normal until suddenly a glass shattered. All eyes shifted to you who shivered in place. The tray rattled in your hands and below you a cascade of broken glass.

“Y-you…” “The fuck…? What the hell are you doing here!? And look at what you did to my drink! You’re still incompetent as ever, tch!”

You wanted to cry, scream, run away. You felt so ashamed, being treated like garbage again from an ex you swore you’d never let walk all over you again. But at the height of stress, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up for yourself. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic…

That is until a sing-song, nonchalant voice slid right up behind you. “Ahhhh, what a shame. I apologize on the behalf of our lil waiter here. They’re just nervous is all. Here~ Why don’t I make it up to ya? I can serve ya a drink right here, right now. On the house~” “Finally, some decent fucking service…”

You looked up at Floyd and saw that dangerous glint in his eyes. How his pupils honed on the poor fool as his smile widened so tightly across his face. He reached for a spare glass that was left on the table, presented it with a flourish to your ex, and coyly said, ��Readyyyy~? Watch carefully.”

Then, his hand flew so quick to grab a clump of your ex’s hair and slammed it squarely on the glass. The crunch of glass, your scream, and the screech of chairs being pushed back as patrons jumped.

“GYAHAHA, YOU LIKE IT!? IT’S MOSTRO LOUNGE’S OWN PERSONAL RED. Ahhhh, but the red comin’ from you? Pfft, it ain’t worth the shit under my shoe…” Your ex could barely register what was even being said to him from the glass embedded in his face and blood gushing from his nose and broken lips.

Hands covered your mouth in terror as you could barely register what was happening. From panicked students screaming to Azul and Jade holding Floyd back from beating the poor ex to a pulp. All you could really register was the horrifying satisfaction deep in your chest, seeing the one who hurt you so much battered under the hand of someone who protected you…

Leona has his own ways of caring but most of the time, if you cannot read between the lines, it may come off as uncaring.

He does care, but don’t expect a coddling man rushing to be your knight when you are feeling sorry for yourself. The last thing he wants to do is pity you as he knows all too well the humiliation of being pitied.

Instead he observes, he watches, he’s keen to everything you do that isn’t a part of your daily life. In sly ways, he tries to break your moments of dissociating. He calls your name sharply to snap you out of your funk and gives you a menial task.

Telling you to maybe preen his mane, join Ruggie on an errand, what have you. It’s better to keep yourself occupied than whatever is plaguing your mindscape.

Sometimes, he will even abruptly lean against you, his weight toppling the both of you over. Even if you protest under him, he will insist he’s really tired and just wants something warm beside him to help him sleep. In truth, it’s just another way to stop your self-deprecating thoughts.

Though he will speak up in annoyance if your depressed thoughts start to bleed into your relationship. It will sting, but he means well. He tells you gruffly that he’s not in the mood to lay next to baggage. He wants only his partner, dammit.

You may argue, you may not, it depends on how you react but at the end of it, one way or another, you’re going to have to face him and this problem that hangs over you.

If you take time before approaching him or spill everything in one go, he will wait patiently and listen. But cowardice by running away he won’t accept and would want answers promptly.

One way or another, the truth has to come from you and you explain the thoughts that coil around you like a petulant serpent. A name and face that digs into your chest horribly. Your ex and the ways he has hurt you in many ways.

Leona listens stoically, letting you share your story before acknowledging and commending the strength it took for you to finally admit this. He knows all too well the pains of the past, he shares in your frustrations. But the past stays in the past for a reason.

Now it’s you and him now. You define yourselves here in the present. If anyone says otherwise? Well, he’d like to see them try.

Who would have known that such a time would come so soon when one day, someone had the gall to start harassing you right in the Savanaclaw dorm.

That same face that always lingered around you like a ghost was here right now in the flesh, taunting you at the edges of the Spelldrive field. Your ex sneered at you, wondering what the hell you were doing around here during his practice hours. Had the nerve to accuse you of stalking him despite your split.

Your anger boiled your blood, your face flushed. Your nerves alighted with a burning fury that made the dorm’s dry heat pale in comparison. But your body did not respond to you. Your throat froze despite wanting to curse and yell out at your ex.

What neither you expected though while your mouth gasped for something, anything to throw at this scumbag, was a lion’s roar peeling across the field. A shadow loomed over your ex and both of you looked up to a silhouette blocking the sun and a pair of piercing green eyes.

Astride his broom, Leona stared squarely at the ex. “For a minute, I thought I heard annoying squawks from a mangy vulture, but now I just see a whelp. Having the nerve to approach my partner…”

Without missing a beat, Leona lowered himself to the ground and sauntered right over to your ex. Your ex tried to stand his ground but anyone could tell he was practically shaking in his spot.

“So.... What were you two talking about?” It was such a simple question. So trivial. But the way Leona spoke each word, it was like a pair of hungry jaws were ready to snap behind every syllable. He dared for your ex to slip up.

“N-nothing… Nothing at all… I was l-leaving…” “Hooo?” Leona’s tail whipped behind him in amusement. “So you just waltzed up to my partner and gawked at them? Nothing left your useless, flapping gums? I can hardly believe that.”

Leona’s knuckles cracked as he flexed his hand and for a quick second, you swore you saw wind and dust particles gather between his finger tips. The air felt still and you heard your ex gulp audibly from a dry throat. Then, a sudden calmness.

“But if you were just about to leave, then by all means, scurry along. I hate people wasting my time.”

To which your ex immediately did, turning on his heel, so close to make a run for it. Then, like a giant paw slamming atop a helpless mouse, Leona’s hand roughly grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.

“A warning since I’m feeling so generous today… Don’t ever let me catch you near them again. Ya hear me? Or else, I’ll make you a nice addition to the scenery. We could always add more sand and bones.” Leona cracked a toothy smirk with darkness in his eyes. His fangs glinted in the sun and it was then you truly realized the fierce lion you had taken in as your boyfriend.

#scrawlingquill #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #rook hunt x reader #floyd leech x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twisted wonderland y/n #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #twsited wonderland scenarios #twst scenarios #twst reader insert #twisted wonderland reader insert #long post #long reads

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reiderwriter · 10 months ago

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Okay but, flirty reader majority pointed at Reid, and the scene where he has to get hosed down and says "I'mma bout to get naked, I don't think you wanna see that" and reader's just like raising her hand and says "don't worry I'll stay". And after she walks out to go to the hospital and sees everyone and with an open mouth and wide eyes just goes " woah" cause big dick energy

A/N: Hi, thank you so much for your request! I've been a bit sick lately, so I haven't had a chance to write much, but this was fun and quick to write! I might do a part 2 with the actual smut in the future, so if that's something people would want let me know in the comments!!

Warnings: suggestive content, public dirty talk?

“I really want to see that.”

You heard the words but weren't sure where they'd come from for the longest time. It had been a confusing morning, with a high alert for anthrax and your coworker trapping himself inside a contaminated lab to save you from dying a presumably very painful death, you couldn't be blamed for not realizing that you'd said the words in question.

He'd meant the words sarcastically, of course, and they'd warned Morgan off immediately with a chuckle and a “You better survive this, kid,” but you'd stood rooted to the earth until he'd repeated them again.

“Y/N, they're going to strip me down. You don't want to see that.”

“I really do, though.” Your eyes unabashedly trailed down the contours of his body, soaked from the hoses currently decontaminating him. You could've sworn that he was moving in slow motion as his hand pushed back his hair and cleared his face of water.

If there weren't this many CDC agents around, you'd have likely joined him in his impromptu shower to feel your way along the lines of his clothing, checking to see what was outline and what was the thick layers of shirt and pants that unfortunately still obstructed your view.

Another minute of you ogling him went by before your eyes finally returned to anywhere near his, and you realized that your desire for the man could no longer pass for camaraderie.

“You better not die, Spencer. Not before I can enjoy the meal I'm about to sample.”

His doctors were either ignoring the conversation completely or were busy focusing on other things, and luckily, they didn't react to your words. Other than to take Spencer's temperature one more time when he flushed bright red, and stared at you slack-jawed.

“We're going to have to speed this along, Doctor Reid. Please start unbuttoning your shirt,” one of the hazmatted men said to him, but his eyes were fixed on you.

“Yes, please do, Spencer. It's for your own good. And mine.”

You expected him to blush and fawn again, but his day had been as long and confusing as your own, so you were unsurprised when he looked you directly in the eye and began unbuttoning his shirt. You watched his descent, and your breath faltered, seeing the water drip down his bare skin now.

“I'm not sure which of us is wetter right now,” you tried to joke in earnest, but you felt a sharp jolt of lust in your gut as soon as his hands reached his belt.

“Y/N, you need to leave now. Before you make this any harder for everyone here.” The innuendo in his words were clear, but you were thankful again for the considerate and/or oblivious doctors either side of him bagging up his discarded shirt and jacket.

“Only if you promise I can make your life as hard as I want to when you're in the clear.” You smiled again, hoping the full force of your lust would reach him. Spencer was always oblivious to genuine flirtation, you'd observed enough women throwing themselves on him (had discouraged a few too many with a hand on his arm and a finger playing with the abandoned curls at the back of his neck, too) to know that for sure.

You needed to make your need for him explicit.

“I mean it, Spencer. I really mean it.”

His eyes locked with yours for the last time ad you made to turn around, doing your best to convince him without becoming distractedly horny.

“I know. I'll see you at the hospital.”

“At the hospital? Risky, I like it.” You winked and turned away, leaving him calling back after you as you walked over to the car Derek had pulled around the front of the property.

“Wait, not the hospital! Those beds aren’t comfortable. Y/N! Y/N, really!”

You giggled as you sat down in the car, but you bubbled with anticipation still.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 11 months ago

Text

The Blood is Rare

Summary: Aemond has always loathed his niece, and the feeling is very much mutual | Words: 3.3k | Warnings below the cut!

Warnings: a lot of talk of illegitimacy, hatefucking, dubcon, choking, slight knife play, biting, bitta blood, incest (character is described with strong features), p in v sex, baby trapping?

There was no plate at his spot at the table. No knife to tempt him. He would not break bread with those he could not trust.

Like an animal atop high ground, he sits rigid at the head of the table, on the outside unnervingly calm. But he watches with a keen eye the prey that sits at the other end.

She shares many features with her mother. His whore-sister. Her stubbornness, her determined gaze and the nervous twisting of the rings on each of her fingers into the bargain.

Had she not the dark brown, near-black shade of waved hair atop her head and bright, clear blue eyes of the former Commander of the City Watch, his niece and his sister would look nearly identical.

Unfortunately, they both shared his hatred for them as well.

He loathed the idea of them all. The birth of one mere brown-haired bastard was enough, and yet there were three of them, sat together in unification, as if to put up defences against the opposite side of the table, dotted with the moonlight-silver of Alicent Hightower’s children.

He smirked at the thought that she came mere hours after Jace. That she was unplanned. Unwanted. And yet here she existed, sitting with her eyes fixed on a flickering candle, trying to drown out the laughs, smiles and the oddity that was all of them all gathered together, enjoying one another’s company.

He knew as well as she did. It was the only thing they had in common. That they could see through this charade.

Aemond wondered if she had always seen it. Understood it. The strife that would happen between them. Perhaps she was a dreamer and could envisage the future before it had even happened.

She was a melancholic, hateful little thing. Born with fire and fury.

He supposed if anything, she was still the daughter of a Targaryen.

Aemond swore she was a witch of sorts. For she must have felt his gaze on her, and her clear eyes were illuminated by the dancing flame as they met him. Her expression unchanged.

His smirk grew that they felt the same about each other.

He was the cunt son of Alicent Hightower.

And she was the Strong bastard of his whore-sister.

Not breaking eye contact, she raised her chin, looking down at him over her nose, huffing as she turned away to sip from the cup on her small, delicate fingers.

Stuck up cunt.

The atmosphere shifted considerably as Viserys groaned, a frail hand raised to the injured portion of his face, to which Aemond felt a sick sense of delight. The guards swiftly carried him away by each corner of his chair.

And the gap between Rhaenyra and Alicent seemed to push each side away further. Irreparably so.

His niece did not appreciate his tribute to her and her brothers.

Throughout the evening, she had said few words apart from mumbled whispers to Daemon on her right and Luke on her left. But when Aemond stood to speak, he revelled in her undivided attention. In those angry eyes, he saw not only a loathing for him, but a loathing at the truth of what she was.

A loathing that he was right, and she knew it.

She seemed almost as disappointed as her mother when Jace struck him weakly.

And before Daemon could place himself between the warring factions of their family, he watched the Strong Princess march angrily away, her skirts in her hands, flashing a stern glare before she left.

Her eyes were all he could think about, with her face anchored in the firm grip of his fingers.

He thought she was so small and fragile, that he could just squeeze and break her little jaw, her bones clattering between his fingers like pebbles. And yet she still looked at him with such fire, that only one of Targaryen blood would be able to throw.

She looked at him like he was the most loathsome creature she had ever seen.

The passageway Aemond had her cornered into was stifling and suffocating, forcing them to breathe the same humid air in anger. He saw her face redden where he had her in his grasp, her glossy lips slightly parted to breathe.

“I will extend you the courtesy of assuming there is a very good reason why you have your hands on me like this, Uncle.”

He almost wants to laugh right in her face, despite what she said not meaning to be funny. She is so frail, and yet roars so loudly.

“There is.”

Her jaw muscles tighten in frustration, shuffling backwards though there is nowhere to go.

“Then, I dare say your reason will not be good enough.”

Aemond allows his gaze to roam over her face. Up close, she really and truly is the picture of her mother, with her father's unfortunate features to her disadvantage in her colouring.

“I merely wished to see the colour of your eyes, mandianna.”

“To make some cruel jape no less, I am sure.”

He grins at the way she takes a sharp breath when he tugs her face towards him slightly. And he swears he sees the pupils within the clear blue of her eyes widen as he does, and wonders if he is having the same effect swelling at the forbidden place between her thighs.

“You wound me, sweet niece. A man cannot simply appreciate the beauty of a woman? Does there always have to be some cruel intent?”

“With you, there must be.”

He somewhat loosens his grip on her face, fingers trailing down her neck, the glint of her earrings catching his eye. She visibly shivers at his touch there.

The most venomous expression sits on her face, and she does not miss a beat. Too clever and witty for her own good.

“Do not insult my intelligence, Uncle. I know what depraved thoughts bat around inside your head, and they are not original. A family trait perhaps.”

He hums, more amused than curious, but perhaps with a smattering of both, “And what of you?”

Her perfect little lips part to speak before his thumb trails down the column of her throat, long fingers wrapped around her neck to her nape. The threat of what he could do making her go quiet.

“What depraved thoughts bat around in your head, sweet niece?”

Silence wraps around them like a rope, tightening with the fibres cracking against their skin. Hot and suffocating all at once. And all Aemond can hear is the steady rhythm of her breathing, his eye wandering down to the necklace perched on her chest as her lungs erratically suck in air.

“It is treason to question my virtue.”

She swallows as his thumb presses on the centre of her throat, as if testing if she is indeed real.

“It may be treason to question your virtue, but it is not treason to question your honesty,” he replies coolly. Aemond can feel her pulse fluttering beneath her skin, the barely-contained rage on her face hidden only by a blanket of courtesy, “a maiden does not allow herself to be alone like this with another man.”

Aemond found himself, a man who had sparred with Ser Criston Cole for a large portion of his life, a man who as a child had claimed the largest dragon in the world and a man who had dealt with the burning pain of losing his eye, and the shame that he carried alongside it, was shocked into brief silence when his niece’s small, delicate palm echoed off his cheek.

It was not the force of it that stunned him so, but rather the shock that she had chosen to do it, with his hand around her neck and his frame blocking her escape.

The little dragon had felt threatened and given him a warning clip.

Aemond felt the warmth bloom on his cheek and smirked. She had slapped him on his bad side, where she knew it would sting the most. For a split second, white, hot pain nipped at the temples of his head as he turned back to face her, and saw that look on her face.

That she knew she’d made a mistake, but was too angry or proud to admit it.

Or perhaps she was both.

Excitement wriggled and rolled in his stomach at the whimper that escaped her lips, using the force of his grip around her tiny throat to force her back, muscles and bones rolling against the stone walls where she was trapped, and those clear, curious eyes darting back at him with distaste. And he was pleased to see, a sprinkling of horror and panic.

“That was a mistake,” he mused, pressing himself closer to her, his hand firm around her throat despite her own attempting to pry them off him. His other hand reached down, shifting her up the cold wall, and gathered her heavy skirts in his palm, and rucked them frustratingly up towards her hip.

He revelled in the terror that crossed her face, a smirk winding its way to his sharp features.

“How exhilarating,” he pondered, “to take something that you are not willing to give.”

“I will scream”.

“Then scream. I will say it was you who seduced me,” he bit back, watching her face and expressions that crossed them, “And who will they believe? The King’s second son or the bastard daughter of a whore?”

He could feel her breath against his face, soothing the spot where she had struck him not a moment before. Aemond blinked slowly at the woman in his grip, apparently attempting to decide for herself whether it was worth the fight.

Or perhaps something else.

Aemond grinned, “like mother like daughter.”

And he enjoyed the fire it stoked in her eyes.

“You will let me go-”

He shook her neck in his grip, as if to make her be quiet. And it seemed to shock and scare her, for she closed her eyes to steel herself, “And then what will you do? Run? Scream? Or will you do something stupid enough to give me an excuse to make everything you’ve ever said about me, truth?”

Her jaw tightened looking at him, feeling cornered, but a strange ache between her thighs.

“You threaten me, Uncle?”

His dagger sliced the very air between them, pressing the tip to the column of her throat where his thumb had branded her not moments before, tracing the shape of her skin. His niece froze, her breath trembling and her head pressed to the wall, as if to try and pull herself feebly away from threat.

This very dagger was an extension of Aemond himself. As if his hand were still touching her but with a pointed edge. And he wondered if he sliced her skin, even just a little, would she bleed like him?

There was something there in her eyes as he looked between them. Her breath came in shallow gasps. And Aemond was willing to bet that deep down, beneath the demure veil she hides herself behind, peeking through, that she is wet and ready for him between her silky thighs.

“You are clever, dear niece,” he all but whispers, trailing the blade down to the neckline of her dress, the rich fabric yielding to it, “but not as clever as you think you are.”

She swallowed thickly as his blade teased the tied bindings to her dress, playing with the double-tied knots as if they were strings of a lute, and he was playing her easily. He plucked one, and then two, watching her face the entire time.

“You believe yourself a proper little Princess, do you not?” he asks, his voice low, almost feline in nature, his face so close to hers she can make out the stitchings of his eyepatch, “hair decorated with gold. Fingers adorned with rubies. Wrapped in lavish dresses.”

She flinched as he flicked his wrist, severing the second to last tie holding two sides of her gown together.

“But pull one little thread, and you unravel -” his tone deepens, forcing her to listen to every little syllable, his gaze boring into hers, “-and all you are…is a wanton, bastard, whore.”

She attempted to push his body away, but his dagger clattered to the floor, holding her easily by her wrists, near-painfully pressing them to the stone wall behind her. It happened so quickly. Lips, teeth and tongue fought as if in battle, and Aemond held her there for him, pressing his rapidly hardening length against her clothed womanhood, rolling his hips against hers to search for that delicious, forbidden friction.

It did not seem to him that she was fighting him, but rather fighting how he made her feel.

Her lips were velvety, moist and soft as his anchored hers apart to taste her, once having a split second’s worth it was never enough. Every little breath and whimper and he wanted to make them louder, make her submit, a part of him intoxicated by her when her teeth grazed his bottom lip, and bit on him, only for her tongue to soothe the area afterwards.

Aemond thought of what would happen, if he devoured her wholly, pressed so hard against her that it was difficult to fathom where either of them began and ended.

His lips moved along her jaw. She smelled of whatever oils were combed through her hair. Camomile and something sweet perhaps. Quickly his hand left her wrist to ruck her heavy skirts up to her waist, feeling her shiver at the touch he left behind with the brief touch of his fingertips where no man had touched before.

“Fight back,” Aemond dared, a mere whisper against her neck where he left his bruise-like mark.

He met her gaze, looking into her bright eyes and allowed his grip on her to slowly relax, waiting to see if she would push away. Scream and run, as she had previously promised. And while her jaw was still tense and eyes aflame with hostility, he swore he saw her pupils dilate.

“Just get on with it.”

The surging heat in his stomach distracted him briefly from acting cocky, his fingers fumbling to untie his breeches while keeping her elevated. And it felt as if his body was thinking before his mind when he looked between them to see her hefty skirts bunched at her hip, and one smooth leg on display, pulling his achingly hard cock free and tucking himself between the soft haven between her thighs.

She could pretend she desired him not all she liked, but when their gazes met in fire and fury, finding that in all of their fighting and struggling she was soaking wet, Aemond pushed against her entrance until she welcomed him, sliding within her tight, choking walls with a low groan batted against her neck.

She whined at both the intrusion and his tight grip on her thigh, one hand elevating it so that he could begin pushing up brutally into her. Shame rose to her cheeks as she closed her eyes tightly, finding the wet smack of their skin rousing that tightness in her belly.

It was both embarrassing and hateful that she found herself enjoying this, and that she let him first of all.

And all she could see above her when she opened her eyes was him, his lips parted to breath as if he was holding some beastly form of himself back, his hair spilling like rays of moonlight over his shoulders with every thrust into her weeping cunt and the way his lone eye never strayed from her expression, not for a second.

That is until Aemond felt as if not only he wanted to own her shame and her body, but wanted to show it too, and leaned forward to graze his teeth on the skin that was now exposed by the ever loosening shoulders of her dress, and sink his teeth in to mark her.

The sound that came from her was between a grunt and a moan, as his position changed the angle of his hips and the blunt head of his cock sparking pleasure deep inside her.

“Fucking…hate you…” is all she managed, feeling the top of his canine break the skin just slightly. Her voice clung to that flat, stoic hatred, and she hated that it sounded as if she were about to fall apart.

If it were possible, he increased the intensity of his movements, pushing up into her mercilessly and drawing feminine, soft whines from her mouth. Sounds he wasn't even sure before his niece was capable of making.

“I adore your fire, sweet niece,” he muses lowly, tracing her jaw with his lips, “I adore how much you think you hate me.”

She does hate him, she tries to think. But every thought that appears is swiftly batted away by the incessant rhythm of his cock pistoning in and out of her, the depraved sounds betraying how she truly feels. An internal war Aemond can clearly see.

“Do you like this? Do you like how much I hate you? How much I want to hurt you?”

Yes.

A thought rung in her mind that she wanted him to hurt her more, so that she could just feel something from him aside from the way he stretched her walls around him so deliciously.

The soreness of his girth is something she had not expected to be a problem, a lapse of thought that she will no doubt be paying for the next morning.

But this, this was a core lapse of morals, surely. Allowing him to do this to her.

His fingers dug into the flesh of her thigh, as if pulling her to meet his cock halfway, feeling the way his body shuddered at the closeness of completion evident on his face.

Aemond grinned wolfishly, “You like this. We both know it.”

He thrusted into her so forcefully that she had no choice but to hold onto him, clinging to his leather-clad shoulder tightly when he met her fleshy end, her insides involuntarily squeezing around him in both pain and pleasure.

His hand came to her neck, clamping down experimentally on her windpipe, and groaning deeply at the way her cunt sucked him in as he did. Forcing her chin up so those traitorous blue eyes met his, he grinned.

Hateful little cunt.

Her peak crept up her spine first, feeling as if the sensation was melting her muscles where they sat inside her body. And then her lips parted in a soundless scream, pitifully moving her hips towards his to encourage the feeling to crest until it rushed out of her with a feeble whine, “uncle…”

Not only was the feeling of her quivering, velvety walls enough to convince him, but the way she called him that while he was so deep inside her, threatening for relief, was so erotic it did not feel depraved in the slightest.

But nothing was better than that wide-eyed, colourful expression of panic, distaste, hate and anxiety when he deliberately planted his seed inside of her. Aemond was sure there was no better feeling, bad intentions or no, her blood felt good on him, his teeth and cock alike.

All he could imagine was what dynasty could be created from such a house of revulsion. To watch this hateful little creature swell with his child, a true Targaryen. Only to put on the same stoic, flat expression which he knew was untrue when he'd fuck her again, and again, and again.

What flame flickered under that expression of hers, he wondered. What stone was hidden in the centre of her peachy, soft exterior. A heart, perhaps.

She didn't have to like it, this dance between them. But when he put her down and watched his spend trickle down her thighs, he would have her come to love it.

She existed for this. Whatever it was. He was sure of that.

“Well, little dragon,” he whispered, “the bastard daughter of a whore, with another growing within her?”

She swallowed around his hand as he tugged her face closer to his.

“Or burn with me.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch@castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy

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lostbo0 · 5 months ago

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Nothing I Had Planned… (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: After four months of blissful marriage, you fear that new realities may introduce challenges you had not anticipated or prepared for.

Genre: Spencer x Fem!Reader, Angst with comfort, happy ending

Content: Mentions of pregnancy, periods, relationship doubt, nerds in love.

Word Count: 1.8k

~~~

The confession you had made that evening was not one marked of a particular grandiosity, and yet it grew a welling in your heart so strong, you felt as though you could fall in love a thousand times over.

your afternoon seemed to slip from your fingers, watching time crawl between the cracks of the blinds, sunlight dragging across the wall of your freshly inhabited living room. Spencer had not long departed to pick up forgotten work materials, insisting on your relaxation for the evening. You mindlessly clicked the remote button, eyes glossed over the tv you had no idea what to do with. Admittedly, you had hopes to escape the confines of your empty home for a small while, yet when you saw the sparkling glow of matrimonial duty glinting in Spencer’s eyes, you rescinded your desire at once.

The TV screen flashed with cop and forensic shows, too familiar to enjoy as you lazed about your unworn couch. You abandoned the idea of TV all together, instead walking to the bathroom, deciding that a warm shower might occupy your time. You shuffled through cabinets, hunting for a spare bottle of shampoo, when, behind nicknacks and more often used supplies, a small case of period products flashed across your vision.

When was the last time you had used one of these?

Your period had never been regular. In fact, it had been far from the word, but you had never missed one completely. At first, you thought that you had simply been “glowing with marriage” as Penelope suggested, your body not finding the time to worry about menstruation. In hindsight, the notion seemed silly to you, but at the time, all you could think about was the fact that you had married the love of your life.

Maybe a change in environment, you had foolishly told yourself a month ago. It just now struck you how long it had been.

Your mind did not immediately resort to conception. In fact, your hypochondria suggested more inevitable death than anything else. Yet, as you sat in the bathroom, shower long discarded, you began to wonder. A baby? It didn’t even feel possible. Of course it had been possible, but you had not even considered it to be a likely reality.

The idea of children had danced upon your tongue, slipping in to conversations laced with playful sincerity, but you never thought it to be a near future. Nothing in the past 4 months had even felt real. You just loved and danced and laughed and sent sparks flying, no consideration of permanent consequence. You found yourself dragged by a ghost of yourself towards the door, simply sliding on shoes and going.

~~~

You jammed the keys into the ignition, stalling for just a moment, hoping for a sign — for your period to magically start “haha you weren’t pregnant, really got you there!” Or perhaps waiting for an angel to descend, delivering the message that you were in fact not with child. But the angel never came. Not yet.

Street lines blurred across the windshield, reminding you to slow. All you could hear was your breath. No radio, no revving, no sirens, not even the rain on your window, just the inhale exhale of your lungs, breathing a silent plea. You weren’t prepared for this, and it scared you. All your life you had spent preparing: seven, the talent show. Twelve, state testing. Sixteen, SATs. Twenty-two, FBI training. Never once did you sit down, read a book, talk to a friend, talk to your mom even! The sound of your breath was loud. Louder, you thought, until it became rhythmic. A rhythm of no count, no time, it was filled with gasps and choking cries that mixed with the patter of rain crawling down the windshield. The line between raindrops and tears began to blur as your own tears pooled in your eyes and ran down your cheeks in hot puddles. You felt foolish — an adult woman crying at the result of her own actions. Yet you didn’t feel like the adult woman that you were. All you could see was a scared teenage girl, faced with the fear of a lifetime in front of her. But you didn’t have a parents to disappoint, not a boyfriend or a teacher, just your poor loving husband that you were scared to death of hurting.

Spencer was the only person who made you believe that the world still had some good left in it. He was the most gentle and tender hearted human you had ever laid eyes upon, and the idea that you could even scare him in any way, sent your stomach twirling like a centrifuge. You knew he loved children, that was not a fact lost on you, but you were also aware of the horrors you both faced each and every day you stepped into the bullpen.

Your entire line of work was comprised of lunatics and monsters and horrors beyond normal comprehension, and you were also well aware of how much of a danger it posed. Spencer had been kidnapped, Penelope had been shot and stalked, and every day you were afraid that you could be next. It almost felt selfish and wrong to bring a poor sweet child into your tainted world. How could you do that to something so innocent?

~~~

You parked your car with recklessness reminiscent of chasing an unsub as you set your vehicle spanning multiple parking spots. You slammed the door shut harder than you had wished, catching a glimpse of your swollen, red, and sordid face. The tears felt sticky on your fingers as you quickly wiped them away.

The fluorescent lights dug into your skin as you walked to the back of the drug store. You knew in your heart that no one there had a care in the world about what you were doing, and yet you had never felt so exposed. Aisles blurred together as you dragged yourself to the shelf, hastily grabbing the most expensive test you could find, hoping the price would reflect upon its accuracy. You checked out and made your way to the car, rain still beating, pooling in the pavement. The car ride back felt just as long as the arrival, thoughts speeding across your vision as quick as the road signs. How would he react when he saw you? How would he react when he saw the results? Would he hug you? Would he cry? Would he slide a hand into yours only to pull the ring off with the words “I’m sorry, I’m not ready?” You felt guilty for even considering it. That was the man that loved you, and he made the promise to love you, no matter what, so faced with these facts, why were you so scared?

~~~

The bathroom tiles were soaked with tears and rain water as you waited tirelessly for the minutes to drag by. No matter how warm your thermostat was set that morning, you couldn’t help feeling cold. These next few moments would decide your future for the rest of your life. But it wasn’t the moments that decided your fate, but the two prominent lines that spoke millions of words all at once. After all the crying you had done, you found it shocking that no tears rolled down your cheeks. In fact, you didn’t make a single noise. You were certain that you hadn’t made a sound. You didn’t know how long you sat there on the bathroom floor staring into your hands. You didn’t know when Spencer would return, but you wanted terribly for it to be soon. No matter how afraid you were of telling him, you wanted nothing more than to feel the familiarity of his arms around your body, building the warmth in your soul that you so desperately desired.

~~~

You were on the couch when Spencer came home. Hearing the door open, you shot up from your seat and stood there in the middle of the room, waiting for him to walk inside.

“My love, I’m home!” He paused where he stood when he saw you, seeing easily through your tight-lipped smile. “are you ok?” He dropped his bags and rushed to you, large hands holding your shoulders with gentle firmness.

“Yeah…” Your voice was quiet, hoarse from crying.

“Baby,” he moved a hand up to your cheek, heart pounding in hopes that you were ok. “Your eyes are red and puffy…”

“I was crying.” You laughed softly at your admission.

“Why sweetheart,” he brushed a thumb across your cheek, feeling dried tears soaked into your reddening skin.

“Um, well…” you wiped your face with your hand. You could feel the tears building in the cracks of your eyes and the familiar clenching of your throat. Spencer peered down at you with those sickeningly brown eyes, prodding for an answer.

“I’m pregnant…” The words scratched out in a whisper, you could barely hear the words yourself, questioning if you even spoke them. He only looked at you, unease growing in your stomach as you fear the worst. “I took a test and I know that sometimes results can be inconclusive but, my period is weeks late and I just-“

“I love you so much-“ His warm arms pulled himself to you, breaths coming out in choked gasps, hot air on your neck as he grasped your body. For the first time all day, you felt safe. A sigh fell from your lips like a waterfall, the tension releasing from your body in one choked out breath. You could feel your arms crawling up his body like a magnet, against your own will and at the same time exactly what you wanted. Your fingers grabbed at his sweater, pulling at the fabric in earnest attempt to hold him forever.

“I was so scared-I, I love you-“

“I love you too. I love you so much.” Your tears came out in hot puddles, soaking the shoulder of Spencer’s shirt. It was silly to even think that it mattered. His body engulfed you, tearing at the seams that held your fear in place, ripping apart any hesitation.

“I’m-I’m sorry I didn’t plan anything special to tell you, I just, I didn’t want to wait…”

“No, Sweetheart, this is perfect.” He pulled away from you, holding your face in his large hands. “You’re perfect.”

You could have spent an eternity basking in the comfort of his arms. In fact, you weren’t sure if any more words were spoken.The truth was, you hadn’t prepared for this. At the time, you hadn’t even wished it. And yet, in that small, careful, tender moment, you realized that if everything you hadn’t planned for turned out just like this, you would throw caution to the wind, following the tides of your love instead.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Requests are open if you have any ideas!

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction

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hazbin-writings-and-musings · 10 months ago

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Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Height Difference Headcanons

AKA What it's like to love a Short King

I was already inspired after my last headcanon post, and have some more fun little ideas for Lucifer X Reader, namely in regards to our dear Fallen Angel being the short one in the relationship. Got a bit sillier and spicier with this one, and I hope you're all ready for some very spicy ones in the near future!

- He's accustomed to being shorter than most, and while he's not one to accept mockery of any kind, he's more than comfortable enough with himself to accept nicknames and loving platitudes about his height from a romantic partner. Hearing you sweetly refer to him as a "Short King" will always get him smirking, and an affectionate "Little Lucy" makes him melt every time. Cooing over how cute he is is also sure to put him in a happy, purring mood, to the point he'll end up laying his head on your lap if you'll let him. Hearing about how darling you find him whilst having your fingers run through his hair might just be his favorite pastime.

- Between the wings and his angelic powers, he doesn't actually struggle to reach anything high up, but he will still appreciate it if you preemptively grab the item in question. That's not to say he won't ask, but he'll always make a point to be as silly about it as possible when he does. Requesting a lift is his preferred way of doing so, and he'll take his sweet time lounging in your arms after grabbing what he needs, even stretching out bridal style for a bit of carrying. Angelic magic can make him light as a feather for extra long bouts of carrying if you're willing to indulge him.

- He'll be the first to tell you all about the advantages of his stature, and at the top of his list is how often he finds himself at bust height, which is quite the gift for a breast man like himself. Yours are the only ones he's interested in, obviously, but he loves how easy it is for him to come in for a hug and tuck his head in between. You'll find him doing this wether he's had a great day or a terrible one, with the former being to celebrate and the latter being to get some much needed comfort somewhere warm and soft. He can't help it if your boobs are just the perfect place to put his face.

- He's going to borrow your hoodies. Granted, "borrow" is an interesting term for something you'll never get back, but he always ensures you're compensated in some way or another. No top of yours that fits him is safe, and the looser it fits over his smaller frame, the better. These oversized clothes are never worn outside the privacy of his quarters, and he wears them most frequently when circumstances keep the two of you apart, particularly at night. Having something of yours all around him is like having your embrace from a distance, and he can't help being sentimental enough to find comfort in that, even after so many eons.

- He's small, but you'll never forget that he's an absolute powerhouse, if only because it's beyond obvious when you're in his presence. Angelic power practically hums through the air if you listen closely, and that's just what you can sense at a distance. Things are even more intense when you come into contact with his lean physical form. For all of his grace and agility, he doesn't lack for physical strength in the slightest, and you learn that the first time you feel him support your body with his. He'll never once give even a hint of effort, let alone struggle, no matter how considerably you tower over him. Carrying you bridal style takes no more effort than one would to lift a couple of grapes. As such, he'll happily take you into his arms or lap, and showing off his unfathomable strength in romantic gestures always gets him puffing his chest with pride.

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vampirestookmydoubts · 7 months ago

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Hi, I loved loved loved your Bridgerton sis imagine, I love the bond she has with Benedict!! Could you write something about her falling in love with Prince Friedrich and some sisterly rivalry because Daphne is trying to make Simon jealous with him? Thank you!!

A Prince's Heart

A/N: thank you for the request, absolutely loved it! Hoping to write more like this in the future. Hope you enjoy! <3

Characters: bridgerton!sister x Prince Friedrich, Benedict Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton

Word count: 2184

Warnings: non

The ballroom in front of you was a shimmering sea of silks and satins, the opulence of the evening mirrored in every glittering crystal chandelier. The scent of roses and delicate perfumes filled the air, merged with the sound of laughter and the orchestra playing an upbeat song. Your heart fluttered as you stood near the entrance, trying to steady your nervous breath. This was a grand occasion for many, one that could change the course of many young women’s lives, including your own.

Your eyes scanned the room, catching sight of your siblings scattered about. Anthony was deep in conversation with Lady Danbury, while Colin and Eloise appeared to be in the midst of a lively debate. But it was Benedict who caught your eye, his warm smile offering a sense of calm in the bustling room. Your elder brother had always been your confidant, your anchor in the unpredictable sea of social expectations thrown at the both of you.

"Y/N," Benedict called, making his way toward you, linking your arm with his and starting to parade you around the room. "Are you enjoying the evening, dear sister?"

"As much as one can in these circumstances," you replied, a hint of mischief in your tone. He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Well, if anyone can find joy in such an event, it would be you."

Before you could respond, the room suddenly fell silent except for a few whispers and murmurs, and your attention was drawn to the grand staircase. There he was, the grand guest of the evening, Prince Friedrich, descending the stairs with an air of regal grace. Your breath caught in your throat.

The prince was a vision to see, his presence inevitably commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Your eyes met as he gazed upon the ton, and for a moment, it felt as though the world around you had disappeared.

The first time you had met the prince he was introduced to your sister Daphne, as she was the diamond of the season and you just happened to be with her and your mother, so you were greeted, too.

Despite what a lot of the Mama’s and their daughters thought, the prince wasn’t just all looks and riches. He was witty and intelligent and had the ability to make the people around him laugh sincerely and with ease. The way he included you into the conversation and not only asked about Daphne’s interests, but also about yours, never felt forced or just him being polite.

It felt like he had a sincere interest in getting to know you.

"Y/N, isn't he magnificent?” You were violently jolted back to reality by the excited voice of Daphne.

"Indeed," you replied cautiously, fixing your posture. "He is quite remarkable."

Daphne’s eyes sparkled with a hint of something more—determination, perhaps. “He certainly is. It’s no wonder the Queen is so fond of him. He would make a wonderful match for any young lady this season.”

You nodded, sensing the underlying tension in her words. “Indeed. He is quite the catch.”

Daphne’s smile widened, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You know, he is interested in finding a suitable match, and as we were just presented this season and introduced to him, it is only natural for us to be among his considerations.”

You met her gaze, recognizing the competitive edge in her tone. “Of course, Daphne. But I think he is looking for more than just suitability. He seeks a genuine connection.”

“Which is why it is important to make a strong impression,” Daphne replied, her tone sharpening slightly at your underlying accusation. “He must see who is the best match for him.”

You felt a pang of frustration, not just at her words, but at the realization that she would use the prince to make Simon jealous. “Daphne, I understand your desire to capture his attention, but is it truly fair towards him… and Simon?”

She raised an eyebrow, her expression cool and composed. “Maybe I do care for the prince sincerely. I intend to make him mine, you know.” She straightened her posture. “Also, Simon has been most infuriating lately, and I believe a bit of jealousy might do him some good." Your heart sank. Of course, Daphne would use the prince to make the Duke of Hastings jealous. It was a clever plan, one that would undoubtedly succeed.

You sighed, trying to keep your voice steady. “I know you, Daphne. I know how much you care for Simon. But Friedrich deserves honesty, not to be a pawn in your game.”

Daphne’s eyes softened, but her resolve remained. “So what about you, Y/N? What are your intentions with the prince?”

You took a deep breath, meeting her gaze with determination. “I think I feel a connection with him that I cannot ignore, Daphne.”

For a moment, silence hung between you, the weight of unspoken words and sisterly rivalry heavy in the air. Then, Daphne’s expression softened slightly, a hint of understanding in her eyes. “I see. Perhaps we both have more at stake than we realize.”

As you watched your sister move toward the prince, clasping her giant feathery fan, a pang of something you couldn't quite identify surged within you. Was it envy? Regret? Or something deeper?

"Are you all right?" Benedict's concerned voice broke through your thoughts. You nodded, though your heart felt heavy. "Just thinking."

"About Prince Friedrich, perhaps?" he teased gently, nudging you softly. You met his gaze, your eyes betraying the turmoil within. "Perhaps."

Benedict's expression softened. "You have always been honest with yourself, Y/N. If you think you like him, you must not let Daphne's games deter you."

You sighed slightly, your eyes following Daphne as she easily engaged the prince in conversation, fanning her feather fan lowly to draw his attention to her cleavage.

"It's not that simple, Ben. Daphne has always been the one to capture attention. And now, with her being the diamond of the season and her mind set on Prince Friedrich..."

"I don’t know about Daphne’s motives, but I can sense you have genuine feelings for the prince. You should listen to your heart and not be content with living in your sisters shadow." Benedict interrupted your self-pity. “You deserve happiness, too.”

His words resonated with you, filling you with a resolve you hadn't realized you possessed. Perhaps Benedict was right. Perhaps you owed it to yourself to not let Daphne use him for her scheme and to see if this connection with Prince Friedrich was more than just your imagination and if there was something, where it might lead.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself following the prince with your eyes, waiting for a moment where he wasn’t engaged in some conversation. Just as you were about to give up your mission, Fortuna settled the matter and your paths crossed near the refreshment table.

"Miss Bridgerton," he greeted, his soft voice sending shivers down your spine, making you spin around.

"Your Highness," you replied quickly, offering a curtsy. "I trust you are enjoying the evening?"

"I am now," he said, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "Might I have the pleasure of engaging you in a dance?"

You hesitated suddenly, glancing over to see Daphne watching you both with a keen interest. But then your gaze shifted to Benedict, silently rooting for you, and you knew what you had to do, despite your anxiety and racing thoughts.

"It would be my honor, Your Highness," you said, placing your hand in the one he held out for you.

The ballroom's splendid grandeur faded as Prince Friedrich escorted you to the dance floor. His hold on your hand and waist was warm and steady, his presence both calming and exhilarating at the same time. The small orchestra began a waltz, and you started to move in unison, the world around you narrowing to just the two of you.

"Miss Bridgerton," he began, his voice soft yet clear over the music, "I must confess, I have been eager to speak with you all evening."

You looked up into his eyes, surprised by the sincerity in his gaze. "And I, Your Highness, have been equally curious about you."

"Please," he said with a charming smile, "call me Friedrich."

"Friedrich," you repeated in a whisper, the name feeling both foreign and wonderfully familiar on your lips. "It's a beautiful name."

"Thank you, Y/N," he replied, his eyes never leaving yours. "Tell me, do you enjoy these grand events?" You hesitated, considering your answer. "I do, to an extent. They are lovely, but I sometimes feel lost among the crowds and the expectations the ton has."

He nodded, understanding evident in his expression. "I understand. These gatherings can be quite overwhelming. It is rare to find genuine connection amidst all the pomp and circumstance."

"Indeed," you agreed, feeling a growing ease in his company. "But I find solace in the familiar faces of my family. My brother Benedict, in particular, always knows how to bring a smile to my face."

"Family is a great comfort," Friedrich said thoughtfully. "I admire the close bond your family shares. It is something I have longed for."

Your heart softened at his words, seeing a vulnerability in him that was surely hidden behind his princely façade most of the time. "You are always welcome among us, Friedrich. We Bridgertons have a habit of adopting those we care about."

He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "That is a generous offer, Y/N. I may take you up on that."

As the music swirled around you, the conversation grew more personal, the connection between you deepening with each passing moment. But you also became acutely aware of Daphne watching from the sidelines, her expression unreadable. You knew she had her own motives, her own desires, but in this moment, they seemed distant, overshadowed by the prince's presence.

"May I ask, Friedrich, how do you like London?" you inquired.

"It feels like a mix of duty and desire," he admitted. "I didn’t time to see much of London, to be honest. As you know, my aunt, the Queen, believes it is time I find a suitable match. But I was hoping to find someone with whom I can share more than just royal obligations."

You felt a flutter in your chest at his words and mustered up your strength to ask further. "And have you had any luck in the search so far?"

His eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that made you catch your breath. "Perhaps," he said softly. "There is indeed someone who has captured my attention."

Your cheeks flushed under his gaze, hope blossoming in your heart. "And, if I may ask, what is it that you seek in a potential partner, Friedrich?"

"Someone genuine, kind, and unafraid to be themselves," he said, his voice earnest. "Someone like you, Y/N." The admission left you momentarily speechless, your heart racing and head spinning.

"I have to admit you seem different from the others," Friedrich said, his tone contemplative. "There is a sincerity about you that is rare to find these days."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I could say the same about you, Friedrich. You are not what I expected."

He cocked his head in confusion. "And what did you expect?"

You paused, searching for the right words. "Someone distant, untouchable. But you... you are kind, genuine."

Friedrich's gaze softened, and he took a step closer. "It takes courage to be yourself in a world that often demands otherwise."

Your breath hitched as he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "To be honest I find myself drawn to you in ways I cannot explain," he confessed.

Your heart soared at his words, the honesty in his eyes mirroring your own feelings. "I… feel the same, Friedrich."

The moment was charged with unspoken emotion, a promise of something deeper, something real. The music swelled, and as the final notes played, Friedrich led you to the edge of the dance floor. He didn't release your hand immediately, his thumb brushing lightly against your knuckles.

"I would very much like to see you again, Y/N," he said, his eyes searching yours.

You smiled, feeling a sense of hope and excitement you hadn't felt in a long time. "I would like that too, Friedrich." The prince smiled contently, offering you a polite bow as he handed you over to Benedict, who nodded at Friedrich in response.

You curtsied as a goodbye and when you came up again, you were greeted by Benedict’s raised eyebrow and a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Friedrich, hm.”, Benedict mocked you in a loving way. You felt your cheeks flush, but returned his smile, feeling a newfound sense of confidence and purpose.

The night had brought unexpected revelations and the promise of new beginnings. As you watched Prince Friedrich mingle with the guests, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you were ready to face them. For now, you had hope, and perhaps something more—a chance at love.

#bridgerton sister #bridgerton!sister #bridgerton reader #bridgerton imagine #prince friedrich x reader #prince friedrich #prince friedrich x bridgerton!reader

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blarshwritezz · 8 months ago

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Yandere Prince x Reader

this is gonna be fun

TW - general yandere behavior, abuse of power

Yan!Prince was a spoiled brat. As a child he threw massive tantrums and only one thing could calm him down. Fairy tales.

Yan!Prince especially loved reading the ones where the princesses would be saved by brave knights and live happily ever after.

Yan!Prince could never be a knight though. He was sheltered his whole life, and never saw any need to be strong when he had actual knights to be strong for him.

Yan!Prince initially didn't care at all when you were appointed as his personal knight. He's had a million of them, honorable men and women that just weren't interesting enough to stay.

Yan!Prince wasn't planning on you sticking around for long either. That was until you saved him. Sure he knew that he'd be in danger if some stupid enemy kingdom decided to attack, but he never expected it!

Yan!Prince was taken in the night by a spy and held hostage. All his training for what to do in this situation was gone.

Yan!Prince thought this was the end. For 5 hours days, perhaps even weeks he was trapped there! Held captive by these disgusting men. That was, until you came along.

Yan!Prince was in awe as you fought off the men single handedly. He didn't even mind the blood that splattered on his cheek. An intense blush spread across his face as you picked him up to carry him home.

Yan!Prince realized that it was you. You were his knight in shining armor. And he would have his happily ever after with you, no matter what it took.

Yan!Prince was incredibly clingy after that. He never ever let you leave his sight, not even for a second. You needed to go attend training? Well, he'd just have to join and watch you. You needed sleep? You'd have to join him in his bed. After all, you needed to protect him.

Yan!Prince didn't let any of the other knights near you. The man that pat your back after training? Fired. Or the woman who shared her water with you? Mysteriously disappeared.

Yan!Prince eventually made you move in with him, making you bring all your belongings to his room. He was even considerate enough to add new decor that would suit your tastes!

Yan!Prince was a parasite you couldn't get rid of. You just had to have your meals together, sleep together, and even shower together.

Yan!Prince never missed an opportunity to use his authority over you. You just had to bend over to pick up that item he dropped! Not because he wanted a view of your rear...

Yan!Prince finally gave you a day off...but only if you brought him with you. Seeing you in your civilian clothes made his heart beat so fast it could have escaped his chest.

Yan!Prince finally convinced his parents to approve a marriage between the two of you. Damn old hags we're getting in the way of his happily ever after...He just couldn't wait to surprise you with the news! He was sure you'd be just as thrilled!

Yan!Prince is elated if you comply! He couldn't wait to see how you'd look at the ceremony!

Yan!Prince if you protest, however, isn't nearly as pleased. He had other ways to make you marry him. You became a knight for the money, right? So you could pay for your parents to have a better life? You must care about them a great deal. Sure would be a shame if his future in laws were framed for some horrible crime and were executed...

Yan!Prince knows you'll be happy with him, whether you like or not. It's in the name, isn't it? You two will live happily ever after...

Hope ya'll enjoyed! Any interaction is always appreciated!

#yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere #yandere prince #prince yandere #prince x reader #x reader

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killerelysia · 8 days ago

Text

Pardonnez-moi, Monsieur!- Solivan brugmansia x Yan!G.N Reader! (Part 4!)

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don't interact!

Words: 10276

Genre: Yandere-(Self aware yandere won the poll)

(Reader is G.N)

Summary: You’ve become consumed by your obsession with Solivan Brugmansia. What started as innocent curiosity quickly spiraled into a fixation. He started it and you began to stalk him, learning every detail about his life. You felt a sick sense of satisfaction in making Sol’s world safer while growing increasingly delusional about your connection with him. Your love for him deepens as you fantasize about the future, convinced that you are the one who truly understands him—better than anyone else. Despite the line between reality and obsession blurring, you remain certain: Sol is yours, even if he doesn’t know it yet.. You're his and he's yours...

Trigger Warning: This content contains themes of obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, mental instability, and delusional thinking, Drugging, Yandere?, Hopeless in love for attention Please read with caution.

Obsessive behavior: The reader becomes dangerously fixated on someone, bordering on stalking and delusion.

Manipulation: The reader engages in schemes to control or harm others, often through deception.

Mental illness: Delusional thinking, possible dissociation from reality, and unhealthy fixation on someone.

Violence: There are references to bullying, physical harm, and emotional manipulation.

Emotional abuse: Both in terms of how the protagonist manipulates others and how they might internalize toxic behaviors.

Stalking: The reader watches and follows the person they are obsessed with.

EXTRA: He's a character from a game named The kid at the back!! Note, The relationship presented here between sol and reader is extremely toxic!! In no way, Just because I'm writing doesn't mean I support this kind of toxicity. Note, It's okay to like sol if you know the flaws and don't be a blind eye on them! Again, I don't support his actions etc! If you hate sol ignore this.

Than to love and be loved by me.

The one who loves.

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

I was a child she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea.

DAY 2: THE KINGDOM

The next day, Your usual seat at the front wasn’t even a consideration today; you made a beeline for the back corner, far from prying eyes—and far from Crowe. Your heart sank when you saw him glance up from his seat, his expression brightening momentarily at the sight of you.

But you didn’t meet his gaze.

You sat down quietly, pulling out your sketchbook and notebook, placing them on the desk like a shield. Your hands trembled slightly as you flipped to a blank page, picking up your pencil to sketch. The familiar motions grounded you, the lines and curves forming shapes, the gentle pressure of graphite against paper drowning out the world....

Crowe stood a few desks away, watching you with furrowed brows. He hesitated, then started toward you. His voice was soft, careful. “Y/n…”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you pretended to be engrossed in your notebook, scribbling down the professor’s words as the lecture began. Your focus was split between the notes and the growing sketch in your sketchbook—a vague outline of Sol’s silhouette, his familiar posture, his distinct, sharp features.

Crowe lingered near your desk, shuffling awkwardly. "Hey, can we—"

You turned a page in your notebook with a deliberate flick, effectively cutting him off without a word. He exhaled sharply, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

“Y/n, please, just—”

Still nothing.

The room began to fill with whispers as students noticed the exchange. Embarrassed, Crowe finally moved back to his seat. But even as he sat down, you could feel his eyes on you, a weight pressing on your shoulders. You swallowed hard, your pencil pausing mid-stroke.

You were sorry.

Sorry for ignoring him, for pushing him away, for the cold shoulder and the distance you’d built brick by brick. But it had to be this way. It had to. Crowe didn’t belong in this part of your life, in the chaos you were creating for yourself. He deserved better—better than being tangled in the web of your obsession with Sol.

You kept your head down for the rest of the lecture, focusing solely on your sketch and notes. You poured your feelings into the page, the drawing of Sol becoming more vivid, more alive with every stroke. It was as if he were there with you, his gaze pulling you in, his lips curved in that faint, elusive smile that haunted your dreams.

The professor dismissed the class, and students began to file out. You stayed in your seat, pretending to organize your things. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Crowe hesitate near the door, glancing back at you one last time. His expression was a mix of worry and resignation.

Your chest tightened painfully. You wanted to look at him, to say something, to explain. But you didn’t.

Instead, you kept your eyes on your sketchbook, shading in the smallest details, your lips pressing into a thin line. You heard his footsteps fade away, and the classroom grew silent. Only then did you let out a shaky breath, your fingers trembling as they gripped your pencil.

"I'm sorry, Crowe," you whispered to yourself, the words barely audible.

But you didn’t stop drawing. You couldn’t. Sol’s face stared back at you from the page, his crimson-orange eyes boring into yours. You smiled faintly, brushing your fingers over the drawing.

For now, this was enough.

The words echoed in your head as you stirred awake, the remnants of an uneasy dream slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

"If you don't pay up, we will have to take your land."

It was a haunting phrase, one tied to memories you didn’t care to revisit.

You felt someone shaking you gently, pulling you back to the present. Bleary-eyed, you blinked up at the figure looming over you.

“Does that mean we can talk now?”

The voice was unmistakable. Your vision cleared, revealing Crowe's concerned face staring back at you. For the love of everything, him again.

“No,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended. You sat up fully, brushing off his presence like an unwanted pest. “Leave me alone.”

“Why are you—”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish. Pushing past him with enough force to make him stumble, you stormed off.

The hall was already bustling with students, and you moved through the crowd with purpose. Brittney and Deryl stood near the lockers, their animated chatter ceasing as you passed. Geo, leaning against the wall, caught your gaze with a sneer. His lips curled into a silent judgment, his expression screaming disgust.

You paused for the briefest moment, flashing him a sharp smile. And just for good measure, you stuck out your tongue before continuing down the hallway. You didn’t care what they thought—not Geo, not Brittney, not Deryl. Not even Crowe.

Except… Crowe was still following.

You glanced over your shoulder. His pace was slower now, his shoulders slumped, his expression weighed down by something you didn’t want to name.

Why won’t he stop?

You reached your destination, you slowed your steps and pulled out your phone, pretending to be engrossed in the screen. In truth, you weren’t checking messages or scrolling through feeds. You were just avoiding the noise—the whispers, the stares, the weight of Crowe’s gaze.

Lunch.

Your stomach twisted as you realized you hadn’t brought anything to eat. Of course, you hadn’t. You never did anymore, not since you left your lunch box at the vent.

You tensed, gripping your phone tighter. The vent was closed now. There was no way to check out Sol anymore.

No way to be near him without making it obvious.

You stood frozen for a moment, debating your next move. You couldn’t go back to the cafeteria, not with those faces staring at you. And you certainly couldn’t go to Crowe.

You took a shaky breath and turned, heading toward an empty corner of the school. Anywhere but here. Anywhere but them.

You didn’t care. No, you really didn’t. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself as you moved through the hall like a ghost, your thoughts fragmented and chaotic.

Join Sol

Call Sol over

Stay with the fucking group

And then you saw him.

Sol.

He was stepping out of a classroom, his silhouette catching the dim light like it was crafted to stop your heart. For a second, you were frozen. But then you noticed someone trailing after him—a familiar face.

Hyugo.

That rascal. The carefree little mischief who somehow always seemed to be hanging around Sol like a bored puppy. Hyugo looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else, his hands in his pockets, expression betraying his boredom.

You couldn’t help it; your gaze locked onto Sol, and your heart practically burst with excitement. It was too much—your steps quickened, and for a second, an impulse hit you like a lightning strike:

Run. Hug him. Surprise him.

But reality hit harder.

That’s fucking creepy! What the hell is wrong with you?!

Your pace slowed, and you adjusted course, pretending to act casual. A flood of emotions hit you as you walked closer to Sol: adoration, longing, frustration. You were caught between running away and running straight to him, but there was no stopping now.

Sol’s eyes shifted, catching sight of you. He stopped mid-conversation, his focus zeroing in on you like a heat-seeking missile. His expression remained calm, unreadable as always, but you knew he’d noticed you.

Beside him, Hyugo also turned, noticing Sol’s distraction. His gaze followed, landing on you. For a brief second, his eyes were dark, calculating. But then, his lips curled into a smile. A smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

Threatening.

The moment replayed in your mind —his voice, the subtle threat, the tension crackling like static in the air. You ignored it.

“Hello! Did Sol teach you a lesson yet?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.

Hyugo’s bored demeanor dropped instantly. His eyes narrowed, and his lips formed a pout, an exaggerated expression of mock offense.

“Hmph! You told him?! Why would you do that?” he said, huffing like a sulking child.

You smirked. “You and George of the Jungle have the exact same baby face,” you shot back, tilting your head.

Hyugo’s faux anger morphed into surprise. His mouth opened slightly in an “O” shape. “You know him?”

You nodded smugly. “Yeah. I like to piss him off. He torments me constantly, so I’ve made it my mission to get justice for the—uh—life he’s made miserable for me.”

Hyugo raised a brow, clearly unconvinced.

“And while we’re on the topic,” you continued, pointing at him, “tell your brother to stop being such a Pinocchio and sticking his big nose in other people’s business!”

Hyugo blinked. “Okay! He won't listen!"

“And you!” you turned your attention back to him, your eyes narrowing, “you threatened me yesterday! For what? What did I even do to deserve that?!”

Hyugo crossed his arms, a smirk curling on his lips. “Me? Threaten you? I would never,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Don’t act innocent,” you shot back.

Sol, who had remained silent during your exchange, finally spoke. His voice was calm, cutting through the tension. “Hyugo, stop messing around. Didn't we talk about it?"

Hyugo sighed dramatically, throwing up his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave. Geez, Y/N, you’ve got sharp teeth for such a cute face.”

You glared at him, though your heart skipped a beat at Sol’s intervention.

Sol glanced at you, his usual composed demeanor softening into a rare, gentle smile. “Hyugo won’t do it again,” he assured you, his voice calm but with an edge that hinted at unspoken consequences.

You tilted your head, curiosity bubbling up. “And if he does?” you asked, teasingly but genuinely curious.

Before Sol could answer, Hyugo spoke up, his grin wide and playful. “Break my nose, for sure,” he said with a dramatic shrug, as if the idea didn’t faze him in the slightest.

You blinked, caught off guard by his nonchalance. For a moment, you were tempted to laugh, but something about the way Hyugo carried himself made you hesitate. He wasn’t someone to underestimate, and the playful glint in his eyes told you he knew it too.

Still, you forced a smile and decided to shift the mood. In your best attempt at Japanese, you bowed your head slightly and said, “ごめんなさい。” (Gomen’nasai.)

Hyugo’s eyes widened in surprise, his usual teasing smirk replaced by something more genuine—a bright smile that seemed to light up his face. But just as quickly, his expression shifted into something more thoughtful, his brows furrowing slightly.

He was thinking.

Perhaps too deeply for someone like Hyugo.

You could almost see the gears turning in his head. Did he suspect something? Could he tell you weren’t just throwing out random words? Maybe he’d pieced together that you actually understood bits of what he was saying when he switched to Japanese.

Sol, however, just looked at you, his crimson-and-orange gaze filled with quiet confusion. “What… are you doing?”

You grinned cheekily, shrugging it off as if it were nothing. “It was a one-day course I did,” you explained casually, “figured I’d try it out. Plus, I wanted to use it to piss off Geo.”

Sol’s expression didn’t change, but you swore you caught the faintest twitch of amusement in the corner of his lips.

Hyugo, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes at you, his arms crossing as he tilted his head. “Geo, huh? So you’re learning languages just to mess with him?”

“Exactly,” you replied with a playful smile.

Hyugo shook his head, a chuckle escaping him. “You’re something else. My brother never was silent!”

You hissed under your breath, the tension building inside you, threatening to spill over. Hyugo, that damn shit, was trying to divert the conversation again, and you could feel your frustration boiling over. But before you could say anything, he chimed in with a grin.

"But hey there! Thanks again for taking care of my buddy ol' pal here!"

You clenched your fists, the words on the tip of your tongue. No! Don't say it. Don’t fucking say it, Y/n. The voice in your head screamed, but you couldn’t help it.

"You’re an idiot," you said, the words coming out more harsh than you intended. "Ditching your friend like that. You know Sol gets bullied a lot. What if someone—"

You caught yourself too late. The words hung in the air, and you immediately regretted speaking them. Shut up, you fucking idiot! The self-loathing crashed down on you like a wave. You had to hold back the urge to slap yourself for speaking without thinking.

Hyugo, to his credit, just let out an awkward chuckle and winked at you, clearly unfazed. “Well, you were there for this handsome face fully yesterday, so I wasn’t worried.” He teased, grabbing Sol’s jaw and holding it up for display, causing an irritated groan to escape from the usually composed taller male.

“You. Are. Embarrassing. Me.” Sol’s voice was low, almost embarrassed as he tried to swat Hyugo’s hand away from his face, but Hyugo didn’t budge, instead grinning like the fool he was.

You felt a pit in your stomach. They were so easy with each other, too easy. You hadn’t been in a friendship like this, a closeness that felt so…natural. But that didn’t mean you liked it. It didn’t mean you were okay with it. Sol was yours—at least in your mind. No one else could have him.

Hyugo was just a distraction. A nuisance. Yet, something in the way he smiled and teased made you feel strange, uneasy. He was playing his part to perfection—being the charming idiot who seemed to have everything effortlessly. While Sol stood there, looking annoyed but also strangely comfortable around him, you couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort creeping up your spine.

You had to stop thinking like this. You needed control.

"Sorry about him letting you take over his responsibility," Sol said, his usual teasing demeanor replaced with an exaggerated puppy pout, his smile ripped from his face as quickly as it came.

"Why did you tell him, Y/n? See, he's so cold to me now." Hyugo's voice turned whiny as he shot a glance at Sol, clearly disappointed that his playful antics weren't having the desired effect. The pout on his face only made him look like a sad kitten, and for a moment, you couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

God, you’re such a mess, Y/n. You mentally scolded yourself, but it didn’t change the fact that the whole situation was starting to feel like a personal disaster.

Sol was still stoic, the ever-watchful protector in his own way, but his eyes flicked toward you momentarily. The slightest shift in his gaze sent a warm rush through you.

"Sol..." you began softly, almost shyly. You didn’t want to be too obvious, but the words slipped out before you could stop them. "Please talk to Hyugo... Whatever it is, I want to thank him for letting me meet you finally. I mean, in the process."

There it was. The one thing that had been gnawing at you for so long. You weren’t asking for much—just that Sol would acknowledge the effort Hyugo had made to bring you together, even if it was clumsy and awkward.

Hyugo, catching the tone of your voice, nudged Sol in the ribs, prompting a low groan of discomfort from the taller male. He reached up to rub Hyugo's head in a way that seemed both affectionate and exasperated, like an older brother humoring a younger one.

"Yay! Thanks for fixing our pretty friendship, Y/n!" Hyugo’s voice was light, and his smile returned as he waved to you, looking genuinely pleased with himself.

You couldn't help but smile back, the corners of your mouth curving up in something like a real, genuine smile. It’s just a smile. Just a passing moment of kindness, you told yourself.

And then everything went to hell.

"Fuck, shitty Crowe," you muttered under your breath. You felt a heavy pressure on your chest as you turned to see him standing there, looming like a shadow that had followed you from the past.

"Aren’t you coming…?" Crowe’s voice carried with a mix of awkwardness . His presence was an unwelcome interruption to your fragile little bubble of hope. "Oh! Is these your friends? I see… I’m sorry if I bothered you." He said it so casually, as if he didn’t realize the effect his presence had on you.

You locked eyes with him, your gaze sharp and accusatory. Don’t make a scene. Don’t make this worse. But the words that came out of your mouth were anything but calm.

"Which part of the line... will you not?" Your voice was tense, the words biting at the air like venom.

Everyone in the group seemed to fall into an uncomfortable silence. You could feel their eyes on you, unsure of how to react. Geo stood there like a distant figure in the background, arms crossed, a slightly irritated expression on his face, while Brittney, Deryl, and Jess exchanged looks full of concern.

You felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of their attention, and you just wanted to escape. You can’t keep running, Y/n. You can’t keep hiding.

But it wasn’t just Crowe that you wanted to avoid. It was everything. The constant nagging fear, the guilt eating at your insides. You excused yourself, muttering under your breath.

"Y/n!"

Sol’s voice stopped you dead in your tracks, his tone softer than you expected. He rushed forward, concern laced in his words.

You turned to him, your heart leaping in your chest. There was something about the way Sol looked at you now, like he wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but he cared enough to make sure you were alright. The chaos of the moment didn’t matter. What mattered was Sol’s gentle hand on your shoulder, the way his eyes locked with yours as if asking for permission to step closer.

You smiled at him innocently, brightly—genuinely happy for the first time in days. The way Sol rushed to you, the care in his every step, was everything you had been craving.

Hyugo, clearly noticing the shift in the air, started talking to his brother, who was still looking incredibly displeased with him. The sound of their conversation faded into the background as your world narrowed down to just you and Sol.

For a moment, everything else—Crowe, your inner demons, the tension with Hyugo—seemed like it didn’t matter.

Because Sol was there. And for once, you weren’t alone.

"Anyway! Do you have any plans, Y/n? We're planning to go to the rooftop today and eat lunch there. You wanna tag along with us?" Hyugo's voice broke through the moment, casual and carefree.

You blinked, torn between the overwhelming thoughts racing through your mind. Rooftop. It sounded like an escape, away from the chaos. Away from the suffocating noise of the cafeteria. Definitely not the cafeteria, you thought.

"...Sol, definitely not the cafeteria... right?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual but a tinge of excitement slipping through.

Sol shivered at the mention of the cafeteria, and Hyugo gave a small, nervous chuckle, clearly aware of the discomfort you both felt.

"I get it," you continued, your voice almost too smooth as you spoke. "The noise there is... discomforting. It makes me feel overwhelmed, and causes panic and anxiety... Is it like that for you too?" You didn’t mean for your words to sound the way they did—seductive, almost as if you were trying to show him that you two were alike. Definitely not faking it, you told yourself, though the tone you used felt too real. Too much.

Sol paused, his gaze shifting to you. The concern in his eyes deepened, and he nodded. He looked almost guilty, like he was worried for you. "Yeah... it is," he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hyugo, scratching his head in the background, glanced at the two of you with a knowing look. He leaned over to Sol, whispering something under his breath, but you were close enough to hear.

"You two are soulmates or something? How the hell are you both so similar like this?" Hyugo's words were teasing, but the implication made your heart beat faster.

Sol's face turned a deep shade of red, his lips pressing into a thin line as he fell silent. He glanced at you for a moment, clearly flustered but still trying to keep his composure.

You smiled at him, the expression on your face twisted in something darker than it should’ve been, but Sol didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy trying to fight the blush creeping up his neck.

Your smile deepened, but Sol was too lost in his own thoughts to see the crazed gleam in your eyes. He didn’t know how much you really cared. How much you needed him.

Hyugo walked over to his usual spot, taking his seat on the bench you had grown so fond of watching from a distance. Your eyes followed him, but it wasn’t long before Sol appeared, holding a large, wrapped box in his hands—something that immediately caught your attention. You couldn’t help but glance at the box, your curiosity piqued.

Sol, sensing your gaze, turned to look at you, and for a brief moment, your eyes locked. You didn’t break the connection, your expression softening in a way that only Sol would notice. You quickly moved to sit beside him, a little too eagerly, but you didn’t care. You had waited for this moment, and now it was here.

Sol glanced at you from the corner of his eye, and the faintest curve appeared at the corner of his lips, a subtle but knowing smile. It was small, almost imperceptible, but you caught it. You pointed at the box nestled in his hands, your voice laced with quiet curiosity.

"Did you pack three bento boxes again?" you asked, the word ‘again’ slipping out before you could stop it. Sol didn’t seem to notice, too focused on the task at hand as he unwrapped the cloth.

"Could say that," he replied casually, his voice warm but detached as he opened the box. Inside, there were indeed three meticulously packed bento boxes. Sol passed one to Hyugo, and then another for himself, leaving the third.

Hyugo accepted the box with a grateful smile, thanking Sol before pulling out his chopsticks. As he opened the container, he let out a small gasp of delight, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Oh! The otopushes are so cute!" Hyugo exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

You didn’t let him finish, jumping in with your own enthusiastic response. "Ahhh!! They're adorable!" Your voice was louder than it probably should have been, but you couldn’t contain your excitement. You were practically bouncing in place as you leaned over, almost falling into Sol’s lap in your eagerness to get a closer look at the little decorated foods.

Sol let out a yelp, caught off guard by your sudden movement, but you didn’t care. The otopushes were so cute, and you couldn’t help but giggle at how perfect they looked. You practically cooed at them, your voice a mixture of excitement and affection.

"Ahhh!!! So cute!!!" you giggled, completely enamored by the detail Sol had put into each box.

Sol’s face flushed slightly, his surprise fading as he watched you. Hyugo just chuckled, watching the scene unfold with a knowing grin. He didn’t say much, letting the moment play out, but his eyes were amused, glancing between you and Sol as he happily dug into his meal.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t stop smiling, your heart swelling with a strange mix of happiness and obsession. This moment, sitting beside Sol, was everything you wanted. The warmth of his presence, the quiet connection in the little things like sharing a meal together, it was everything. You let your gaze linger on him a bit longer than you should have, lost in the simple joy of being near him.

"Did you pack three bento boxes again?" you asked, the word ‘again’ slipping out before you could stop it. Sol didn’t seem to notice, too focused on the task at hand as he unwrapped the cloth.

"Could say that," he replied casually, his voice warm but detached as he opened the box. Inside, there were indeed three meticulously packed bento boxes—each a masterpiece in its own right. Sol passed one to Hyugo, and then another for himself, leaving the third—always for you.

Your heart fluttered.

Hyugo accepted the box with a grateful smile, thanking Sol before pulling out his chopsticks. As he opened the container, he let out a small gasp of delight, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Oh! The otopushes are so cute!" Hyugo exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

"Ahhh!!! So cute!!!" you giggled, completely enamored by the detail Sol had put into each box.

But you knew, deep down, this was just the beginning. And no matter how many times you found yourself in these little moments with Sol, you would always crave more. More of him. More of this closeness. More of everything. And nothing, not even your own twisted thoughts, could stop you from wanting it all.

You glanced at Sol's lunch as he opened it, noting how simple it was—a ham and cheese sandwich, neatly wrapped, but nothing too special. It made your heart ache a little. How could he not treat himself to something more? You had seen his attention to detail in the bento boxes he made for others, and yet, when it came to his own lunch, it seemed like he didn’t care as much. It was almost as if he didn’t value himself enough to do something nice.

You wanted to cook for him, to make him something special. Something as beautiful as what he put into the lunches for others. Why didn't he do that for himself?

Sol’s voice broke your thoughts.

“Did you eat today?” he asked, his voice unusually gentle.

You shook your head. “No…”

Sol’s eyes widened in surprise, and Hyugo, still mid-bite, stopped chewing, his eyes flicking between you and Sol. The sudden shift in the atmosphere wasn’t lost on you. There was a brief silence before Sol made a quick decision. Without saying anything more, he grabbed the third bento box from the cloth and placed it gently onto your lap.

You stared at the box, surprised. "Sol... it’s okay. Why do you have an extra one?"

“I thought Hyugo would finish it… plus, I didn’t like it,” he answered, his voice grumpy but soft. He looked away, clearly not wanting to explain further. His face was cute, though, flushed slightly as he tried to brush it off like it was no big deal.

But you could tell. Sol didn’t want to talk about it, but the effort he made, even in such a small way, made you feel warm. It was almost like he was giving you a piece of himself in that box.

You gently pushed it back towards him, shaking your head. “It’s okay, really…”

But Hyugo, looking a little tired himself and definitely more than a little frustrated, sighed loudly.

“For fuck sake—just eat from the same box, will ya?” he muttered, barely looking up from his meal as he poked at the food in his own bento.

Sol hesitated for a moment, his fingers gripping the fork and spoon a little too tightly, as if unsure of what to do next. The silence between you felt almost suffocating, but you could sense the tension building in the air. You decided to tease him, just to see how far you could push his patience.

You shook your head, declining the fork with a small smile. "I don't need that," you said, your voice playful, almost teasing.

Sol blinked, taken aback. "You want a spoon then? Or you could use chopsticks if you'd prefer," he offered, trying to keep his cool.

You didn’t respond to his suggestion. Instead, you looked directly into his eyes, leaning in just slightly as if to draw him closer. Your eyes were heavy-lidded, the playful innocence you tried to convey just enough to make him second-guess everything.

"Nothing of sorts," you replied cryptically, but with an intensity in your gaze that sent a shiver down his spine.

Sol raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "Then what do you want?" he asked, his voice quiet, his patience running thin.

You didn’t break eye contact. In fact, you only leaned in closer, a soft but mischievous smile tugging at your lips. Your voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of your intention.

you said, your voice trembling with something you couldn’t quite place. "I want you to feed me."

Sol’s breath hitched. His eyes widened, the red hue of embarrassment creeping across his face at your unexpected suggestion. You could see him freeze, his body stiffening as he processed your words. He glanced at Hyugo, who was sitting beside him, but you knew Sol’s attention was solely on you now.

With puppy eyes, you repeated, "Are you going to deny me, Sol?"

You didn’t care that Hyugo was right there. You were completely focused on Sol, testing him, wanting to see how far you could push. You wanted to make him squirm, to watch his reactions to every word that came from your mouth.

Hyugo, however, was no fool. He gave you a pointed side-eye, clearly unimpressed with your antics. "Really? Right in front of my bento box?" he muttered under his breath, his judgmental stare only adding fuel to the fire. "Come on, not the time or place."

You ignored him entirely, your gaze still locked on Sol, waiting for his response. You needed to see his reaction, to make him feel something for you, anything at all.

Sol looked back at you, his expression a mix of confusion and something else you couldn’t quite decipher. He was silent for a few moments, and you could tell he was struggling to come up with a response. His hesitation made you even more determined. You wanted to see him squirm, to watch him struggle with your words.

Hyugo, still eyeing you both, broke the silence with a scoff. "Are you gonna keep staring at them like that, or...?"

Sol glared at Hyugo, clearly irritated. "S-Shut up, Hyugo," he muttered, his voice quiet but sharp. "I’ll feed them."

At his words, your heart skipped a beat. There it was. He had agreed, albeit reluctantly. You almost couldn’t believe it. You sat there, waiting, as Sol took the spoon from the bento box a little too harshly, as if his hands were trembling with uncertainty. He scooped up some rice, along with a piece of sausage, and held it out to you, waiting for you to open your mouth.

You stared at the spoon for a moment, confused. Was he actually going to do it? You had thought he would refuse, that he might push you away, but here he was, offering you food.

Sol’s gaze never wavered from yours, his face flushed with embarrassment and something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His silence was almost maddening, but you couldn’t bring yourself to break it.

Finally, with a small, almost imperceptible sigh, you leaned forward and opened your mouth. Sol hesitated for a moment longer, as if testing to see if you were serious, but then he gently placed the spoon into your mouth.

For a brief moment, everything felt surreal. It wasn’t about the food, not really. It was about the intimacy of the gesture, the closeness, the way your relationship with Sol seemed to shift with each passing second.

Hyugo, still sitting beside you both, stared at the two of you with an unimpressed expression, clearly over the scene you had created. But you didn’t care.

The bite of food melted on your tongue, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement. It was delicious, but that wasn’t what had your heart racing. It was the fact that Sol, Sol, was feeding you. You wanted to scream, to shout your happiness to the world, but you kept it all in, a bubbling excitement threatening to spill out of you.

You took a moment to savor the flavor, but internally, it was like fireworks had gone off in your chest. You wanted to explode with happiness, but instead, you simply giggled. The sound escaped from you before you could stop it, a quiet, almost delirious sound of pure joy.

Inside, however, it was a different story. Your mind was screaming at you, your heart pounding in your chest like a runaway drum. Sol, Sol, Sol, I can’t believe this is happening!!! You wanted to jump up and scream it, but instead, you kicked your feet under the table in an almost childlike display of happiness.

Sol, of course, was completely oblivious to your inner chaos. He watched you for a moment, blinking in confusion. Your reaction was not what he expected, and it made him blush even harder. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly unsure of how to respond to your gleeful energy.

"This is so good!" you exclaimed, your voice practically sparkling with delight as you savored another bite. You couldn’t hold back your joy—it was as if every flavor came alive just for you.

Hyugo, who was absolutely stuffing his face with his bento box, looked at you with puffed-out cheeks like a hamster caught mid-feast. "I KNOW, RIGHT?!" he shouted through a mouthful of food, his enthusiasm infectious.

You chuckled at his energy, finding it oddly endearing. It made you glance back at Sol, who was eating quietly beside you. His calmness always stood out, but in this moment, it just made you feel more drawn to him.

"Sol," you said, calling his name softly. He turned to you, his eyes meeting yours with a quiet curiosity.

"You’d make such a great household husband," you teased, your tone light but your words brimming with affection.

Sol’s eyes widened at your declaration, the calm composure he usually maintained instantly crumbling. His cheeks turned a vibrant shade of red, and he quickly averted his gaze from you.

"Y-You really think so?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded with a smile, finding his reaction absolutely adorable. Sol seemed at a loss for words, his face growing even redder as he clutched his chopsticks tighter. He glanced down at his food, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to say something but couldn’t find the words.

And then, in a voice so soft you almost missed it, you heard him mumble, "Do you... want to get married to me?"

Your heart froze. Did he just—?

Before you could even process or respond, Hyugo swooped in like a wrecking ball, loudly exclaiming, "OH, LOOK AT THAT! THE WIND IS PICKING UP! DON’T MIND ME!" He clapped his hands together and let out a nervous laugh, cutting through the tension like a knife.

Hyugo’s interruption was so sudden and dramatic that it managed to defuse the moment, at least on the surface. Sol groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose, clearly mortified. "Hyugo," he muttered through gritted teeth, "shut up."

But you weren’t letting it go. Not in your heart, at least.

Inside, you were a storm of emotions, your heart screaming with uncontainable joy. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! The thought of Sol even considering marriage with you—his quiet, hesitant words—set your soul ablaze. You wanted to jump, to scream, to kiss him right then and there.

But outwardly, you kept your cool, only letting a small, soft smile curl on your lips. You didn’t want to make Sol feel awkward or embarrassed. He already looked like a beetroot—his face flushed so red it was almost glowing.

You giggled softly and focused on your bento, savoring every bite with newfound delight. It wasn’t just the food that made you happy—it was the thought of Sol, his shy demeanor, his quiet kindness, his gentle heart.

Hyugo, sensing the charged atmosphere, leaned back and continued devouring his food with an exaggerated nonchalance

Meanwhile, Sol stayed silent, his gaze fixated on his lap as he fiddled with his SPOON.

Hyugo leaned back on the bench with a dramatic flourish, his arms spread wide as if making a grand announcement. “Let me tell you something, Y/n,” he began, his voice loud and playful, “Sol here? He’s not just a pretty face, no, no, no! He’s a complete package. The guy can cook, clean, organize, you name it! Total husband material! You’d think he was trained for this or something. Honestly, if I were into dudes, I’d have already proposed!”

You blinked at him, taken aback by his sheer enthusiasm. Hyugo’s grin widened, clearly enjoying himself as he continued his sales pitch. “Need someone to whip up gourmet-level meals? Sol’s your guy. Want your apartment to look spotless and smell like fresh lavender? Sol’s already on it. I mean, the man even folds his laundry so neatly it looks like art. ART!”

Sol let out a groan, covering his face with one hand. "Hyugo, stop it."

“Stop what?” Hyugo said innocently, clasping his hands together. “I’m just stating facts! You’re like the dream husband everyone wants, and I’m just letting Y/n know how much of a catch you are! You should be thanking me!”

“Thanking you for what?” Sol snapped, his tone sharp but his lips curving into an amused smile despite himself. “For making me sound like your personal butler? No thanks.”

Hyugo pouted, crossing his arms. “That’s not what I’m saying at all! It’s a compliment, you ungrateful perfectionist!” He jabbed a finger in Sol’s direction, his cheeks puffed in mock indignation.

Sol finally broke into a soft laugh, his irritation melting away. His eyes sparkled with that rare warmth, and the corners of his lips lifted into the gentlest of smiles. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Thanks for your glowing review, Hyugo.”

Their banter felt so natural, so effortless, like a glimpse into the depth of their friendship. It warmed your heart to see them like this—to see Sol smile like that, carefree and genuine. His laughter was soft, but it echoed in your mind, filling you with a quiet, radiant joy.

Your gaze lingered on him, watching how the sunlight hit his face, how his expression softened when he looked at Hyugo. You loved him—deeply, irrevocably. The realization hit you again, as powerful as the first time. You wanted this light in your life. You wanted him.

Sol had gone unusually quiet, his gaze distant as if lost in a maze of his own thoughts. You tilted your head, curiosity tugging at you. Something was off.

"Sol," you called softly, your voice breaking through his reverie. "You okay there?"

His body jolted slightly, like he'd been startled back into reality. "Oh! Yeah, I'm fine, Y/n." He forced a small smile, but his eyes betrayed him—there was something unsettled swimming beneath the surface. "Perfectly fine." He repeated the words, but this time there was an unmissable hesitation.

You narrowed your eyes at him, concern creeping in. "Are you sure? You seem... distracted."

He cleared his throat abruptly, sitting up straighter as if to compose himself. For a moment, he seemed ready to speak, but instead, he mumbled something under his breath. The words were faint, but they lingered in the air just enough for you to catch: "...like him..."

You leaned in slightly, brows furrowing. "What was that?"

He avoided your gaze for a second before finally turning to you, his expression guarded but laced with something else—an emotion you couldn’t quite place. "That person," he began carefully, his voice quieter than usual. "The one with braids."

Braids? It took you a second, but then it clicked. Crowe. Why would Sol be asking about him? The thought made you tense.

"Crowe... Ichabod? What about him?" you asked cautiously. You didn’t miss the flicker of something in Sol’s eyes at the mention of Crowe’s name—a fleeting darkness that made the air around him feel heavier.

He took a breath, his voice steady but low. "Yeah. Him." His tone carried a weight that made you sit up straighter. "Can I ask you something?"

Your confusion deepened, but you nodded. "Go ahead," you said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. The touch seemed to catch him off guard; his body stiffened for a moment before relaxing under your hand.

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours. His lips parted, and the question slipped out, almost too quiet to hear: "Do you... like him?"

The question struck you like a thunderclap. Your mind reeled. Why was he asking this? Why did it matter to him? The intensity in his gaze, the slight clench of his jaw—it wasn’t just idle curiosity. It was something deeper. Something raw.

"I..." You faltered for a moment, searching for words.

Seeing your daze, you turned your head to Sol. His expression was dark, a shadow falling over his features, but his eyes gleamed unnaturally bright against the gloom. He said nothing, his gaze locked on the ground as if avoiding yours entirely.

"You don't have to say," he muttered, voice low and strained. His grip on the bento box in his lap tightened, the edges digging into his palms, and you noticed his fingers turning pale from the pressure.

Is he… jealous? The thought ignited something in you, a twisted kind of satisfaction at the possibility, but it was tempered by the sight of him like this—silent, tense, and clearly battling his emotions. Your obsession screamed at you to push it further, to see how much he’d unravel for you, but... you didn’t.

Not this time.

You didn’t want him to suffer under the weight of his feelings, even if they mirrored the toxic depths of your own. There was some sliver of humanity left in you, wasn’t there? Maybe. Or maybe it was simply because seeing Sol unhappy made your chest ache, and all you wanted was to see that gentle smile return.

Because you loved him. You loved him in a way that no one else could. In a way that bordered on madness. But you also wanted him to love you freely, without the pain etched across his face now.

Toxic? Yes. You were fully aware of it. You always had been.

But at least you could choose not to trigger him—at least, not intentionally. Not when you could feel the weight of his unspoken thoughts. He was waiting for an answer, bracing himself for something he clearly didn’t want to hear.

You looked at Sol, who was still gripping his bento box tightly, his knuckles pale. His jaw was set, and his eyes burned with an intensity that pinned you in place. This was not a side of him you saw often. Sol, with his quiet strength, always seemed above emotions like jealousy. But here he was—hissing softly under his breath, his lips barely moving as if he were mumbling something to himself.

He thought you still liked Crowe, didn’t he?

You let out a small sigh, leaning back slightly to gather your thoughts. Your fingers fidgeted in your lap, and you glanced at Sol again. His gaze was fixated on the ground, but his attention was wholly on you. The air felt heavy, charged with unspoken tension.

"Sol," you began softly, "about Crowe…"

That got his attention. His head tilted just enough for his eyes to flick toward you, the glint in them sharp, cautious. You pressed on, voice steady but quiet.

"During the first semester… there was this incident." You hesitated, feeling the memories resurface. "Crowe saved me. I don’t mean in some big, dramatic way, but he was there when I needed someone. And for a while… I liked him. A lot."

Sol’s eyes narrowed, his lips curving downward as he let out a quiet, almost inaudible hiss. The sound made your heart clench—not out of fear, but because you hated seeing him this way. Still, you pushed forward.

"I liked him because he was nice," you admitted, your voice calm but tinged with something heavier. Sol’s head dipped slightly, his bangs falling over his face, and you saw his hands tremble just a bit.

You took a breath, letting the words pour out before he could spiral further. "But you know what? I hate nice people."

That startled him. His head snapped up, his eyes widening just enough to show his surprise. You gave him a small, bittersweet smile, feeling your chest tighten as you spoke.

"I hate nice people because… if they so much as say hello to me, it stays on my mind. If they return my texts, my heart races. The day they call me? I’d probably replay that conversation in my head for days. But I know—deep down—I know it’s just them being nice. Nothing more."

Sol’s lips parted as if to say something, but he stayed silent, his gaze locked onto yours. There was something raw in his expression now, something vulnerable.

"And Crowe?" you continued, your smile growing faint, almost brittle. "He’s the same. He’s kind to everyone. He sees the good in people, always. That’s just who he is. And you know what? If the truth is cruel, then kindness is a lie. Because lies are meant for kindness."

You stopped, swallowing hard as you felt the sting of unshed tears. Sol’s gaze softened, though his body remained tense. He wasn’t interrupting, wasn’t looking away. He was listening.

"I gave up," you admitted, your voice quieter now. "I gave up on wanting things like that. Someone who’s just nice to me because it’s what they do? It’s not enough. I wanted someone to love me. Not out of pity or kindness. But because they saw something in me—something worth loving. And if they did? If they loved me… I’d give everything to them."

Sol’s breath hitched audibly at that. You didn’t look at him, afraid that meeting his eyes would unravel you completely. Instead, you stared at your hands, voice trembling as you finished.

"No matter how… strange the love might be," you said faintly, "I’d love them back. Because they found something in me. Because they wanted happiness… with me."

You paused, letting the silence stretch between you both for a moment. When you finally looked up, Sol was staring at you, his expression unreadable but his eyes glistening with an intensity that made your heart ache.

"So, to answer your question, Sol…" you said softly, meeting his gaze head-on. "No. I don’t like Crowe. Not anymore. We even had a fight yesterday, and honestly? I’m done with it. I’m done with him."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Sol’s shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension in his posture easing, though his expression remained serious. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped, his lips pressing into a thin line instead.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as the weight of everything you just said hung in the air. The truth had tumbled out so effortlessly, yet it felt heavy, like you’d cracked open a part of yourself you hadn’t meant to. Sol was still staring at you, his expression unreadable, but his eyes… they stayed on you, unwavering, as if he was waiting for something.

"It’s so shitty, isn’t it?" you muttered, your voice low but trembling with emotion. "How people like me… how we think. It’s exhausting. I hate how my mind works—getting attached so easily, overthinking every little thing. Crowe just smiles or says hi, and suddenly it’s like I’ve written a whole future in my head. Like I matter to him. Like I’m… special."

You scoffed, running a hand through your hair. "But it’s not real. It never is. And then I get angry at myself for even hoping it could be. It’s stupid, you know? Wanting to mean something to someone who probably doesn’t even remember I exist half the time."

Sol flinched, almost imperceptibly, but you caught it. His hands rested on his knees, gripping his pants tightly as if grounding himself. Hyugo, on the other hand, looked away awkwardly, the tension thick enough to make even him fidget.

"And the worst part?" you continued, your voice rising just slightly before falling into a strained whisper. "It’s like… I know better. I know that people like Crowe aren’t bad, that they’re just being themselves. But it still feels like shit. It feels like a cruel joke. Because I can’t stop myself from wanting to matter to someone like that. And every time I realize I don’t? It’s like I lose another piece of myself."

You finally looked up at Sol, your eyes locking onto his. His expression was softer now, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. His gaze held a storm of emotions—anger, sadness, and something else that made your heart twist.

"I hate how pathetic this all sounds," you admitted, your voice cracking. "But it’s the truth. And the truth is cruel."

The silence that followed was deafening. Even Hyugo, who always had something to say, stayed quiet. Sol finally moved, shifting slightly closer to you. His hand hovered near yours, hesitating for a moment before his fingers brushed against yours lightly, grounding you in the moment.

"You’re not pathetic," Sol said, his voice low but firm. "Don’t ever call yourself that."

His words were simple, but the weight behind them made your chest tighten. He looked at you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe, his crimson-and-orange eyes burning into yours like they could see every hidden part of you.

"You just… want to be seen," he added, his tone softer now, almost tender. "That’s not pathetic, Y/n. That’s human."

".....When will you let me see you...?" You asked quietly, Sol didn't catch it.

You shifted in your seat, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. The mood had gotten heavy, and you were desperate for some levity. "So, Sol," you began, your tone light and teasing, "surely you must like someone, right? Spill it!"

Sol raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips curling into that mischievous smirk you knew all too well—the one that appeared when he thought he had the upper hand. It was the same smirk he gave you when he thought you were fast asleep, his arms wrapped around you tighter than they needed to be. It made your chest flutter in ways you couldn’t admit out loud.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "Why? You interested?"

Your eyes widened, your entire face heating up as you puffed out your cheeks in frustration. "W-What?! No! That’s not what I—ugh! Sol!" You stammered, flailing your hands as you tried to recover, but the damage was done.

The grin on his face widened, and for a brief moment, he chuckled—a rare, soft sound that made your heart skip a beat. His teasing facade cracked just a little as he looked at you with those piercing eyes, the playful glint fading into something warmer, softer. "So cute," he murmured, almost too quietly for you to catch.

Almost.

You did catch it, though, and your brain immediately short-circuited. Your chest tightened, and your legs wobbled as if your body couldn’t handle the sheer force of him. You could feel the heat radiating off your face, your heart pounding like it was trying to escape your ribcage.

Did he just—? Did Sol—?

Your vision swam for a moment, and before you knew it, you were swaying. "Whoa, Y/n!" Sol’s voice snapped you back as he reached out, catching you before you could fully tip over. His hands were firm and steady on your shoulders, his eyes wide with genuine concern. "Are you okay?"

Hyugo had stopped mid-bite, his hamster cheeks full of rice as he looked at you, clearly worried. "Y/n, you’re as red as a tomato! Do we need to call someone?"

"I-I’M FINE!" you squeaked, quickly sitting upright as you waved your hands frantically to dispel their concern. "Seriously, I’m okay!" But your face betrayed you, still hot and crimson as you avoided Sol’s gaze.

Sol narrowed his eyes at you, skeptical but letting it slide—for now. "You sure? You looked like you were about to faint." His voice was soft again, the teasing edge gone, replaced with something closer to worry.

"I’m fine!" you repeated, louder this time. Then, in an attempt to regain some semblance of control over the situation "Your cooking is good!"

Hyugo gave a knowing nod, stuffing another bite into his own mouth. "I know, right? Sol’s cooking is unbeatable!"

You smiled at Hyugo before turning your attention back to Sol, who was still holding the spoon, his face carefully neutral despite the redness creeping up his neck. "You’d make a great househusband, Sol," you teased, your tone light but sincere. "Seriously, whoever ends up with you is gonna be so lucky."

Sol’s eyes widened at your words, his grip on the spoon faltering slightly. "You… really think so?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he averted his gaze.

You nodded earnestly. "Of course! You’re amazing, Sol."

For a moment, he was silent, his face an even deeper shade of red as he seemed to grapple with something. Then, so quietly you almost missed it, he mumbled under his breath, "It's for you..I.."

Before you could fully process his words, Hyugo loudly cleared his throat, his eyes narrowing at Sol like he was trying to keep him from saying anything else. "I know right!"

Sol shot him a glare but complied, scooping up another bite and holding it out to you. You leaned forward eagerly, biting down on the spoon and savoring the taste. Inside, your heart was doing somersaults, screaming, AHHHHHHHHHHH SOL SOL SOLLL!!!

You kicked your feet under the table, your cheeks hurting from how wide you were smiling. Sol, despite his earlier embarrassment, couldn’t help but smile back at you, his expression softening once more.

This was perfect.

You leaned back, taking a break from the spoonful of food you’d just been fed, your mind racing with curiosity. "So… is this what you two do? You just feed each other like this every day?" you asked, playing it innocent, though you were secretly enjoying the chaos you were stirring.

Sol raised an eyebrow, looking slightly irritated but amused. "Hyu—" he paused, glancing at Hyugo, who was currently munching on his food like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. "Hyugo forgets his lunch sometimes," Sol explained, "Then I end up sharing mine with him."

Hyugo’s face instantly puffed up in indignation, pouting like a child caught in the act. "Hey! I don’t forget my lunch," he snapped, his voice muffled by the rice in his mouth. "It’s just... I’m busy! Plus, I can always count on Sol to feed me."

"Whatever, Sol," Hyugo muttered, crossing his arms as he slouched back. "I’m just looking for inspiration. You wouldn’t understand."

You giggled, watching the playful banter unfold. There was something about the dynamic between the two of them that made you feel warm inside. "Speaking of inspiration," you turned to Sol, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Where do you get the inspiration for these bento art pieces? They’re incredible. Do you just, like, think of it off the top of your head?"

Hyugo perked up, looking at you as if you’d asked the most obvious question. "Oh, you didn’t know?" he said, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Of course you know! Sol’s like the art guy in our class. He’s always been into making everything a piece of art—even his cooking. That’s why he learned to cook so well. He doesn’t just want to feed people, he wants them to experience it, you know?"

Sol’s face softened for a moment at Hyugo’s words, a small, fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He looked almost shy when he responded. "I guess... I like cute things."

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly. "Cute things? Like… what kind of cute things?" you asked, curious.

"Like," Hyugo chimed in with a smirk, "cute food, cute animals, cute people... you name it. Sol’s a sucker for anything that’s adorable. Like the way he stares at that stuffed horse plushie all the time—"

At that, you paused, eyes widening. "Wait, what? You have a stuffed horse?" You knew it.

Sol's face immediately turned bright red, and he let out an exasperated sigh. "No! I do not have a stuffed horse." He crossed his arms tightly, glaring at you and Hyugo. "And I’m not answering that."

You grinned, fully entertained. "Aww, come on, Sol. You can’t just drop a bomb like that and not tell me the name of your precious horse plush. What’s it called?"

"I said no," Sol growled, looking away with a flushed face. He looked so cute when he was flustered, and you couldn’t resist teasing him further.

The conversation took a turn for the darker after that. You, Sol, and Hyugo sat quietly, watching as a group of high-class individuals walked by. Sol was the first to break the silence, his eyes narrowed in distaste. He muttered under his breath, "Tch, high-class mugs."

You didn’t reply to Sol’s remark. Instead, you focused on the scene before you. There was something about the way they carried themselves—so poised, so perfect—that made everything feel distant. A cold knot settled in your chest.

Hyugo then, told abut learned about Hierarchy, High class.

Hyugo noticed the shift in your demeanor and turned to you, his usual warmth gone, replaced with concern. "Hey, you okay?" he asked gently.

You didn’t respond immediately. Your thoughts drifted, and you suddenly recalled the dream—the one that haunted you for years. Four years ago. You couldn’t shake the feeling it was all connected somehow.

Hyugo seemed to sense your unease. He raised an eyebrow, his voice quieter. "Let me guess... It's something you can't avoid?" he asked, almost like he already knew the answer.

You exhaled slowly, your thoughts heavy. "I honestly don't know... My father never really explained why we were in debt," you murmured. "I was just desperate not to lose our home... three jobs, giving out personal information... Everything was hard, and we weren’t getting enough money." You trailed off, feeling the weight of it all again.

Silence fell between you, the heavy atmosphere surrounding you like a fog. It felt like there was something more you couldn’t escape, something always lurking in the back of your mind. Something you had to do, but you couldn’t figure out how.

After a moment, you looked up, meeting Hyugo’s concerned gaze. "My father owns a farm down south," you said, trying to sound casual. "Not much—just horses, cows, maybe some wheat."

Hyugo’s eyes lit up at that. "Horses? Sol would love that place!" he said, his smile bright and eager. "Hey, you should take me and Sol sometime! We could check it out!"

You nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I’ll count on it."

Hyugo leaned back, still looking thoughtful. "You’ve been away from home for a long time... don’t you miss it?" he asked, genuinely curious.

You shook your head slowly. "Not really," you said, the words feeling strange even as they left your lips. It wasn’t that you didn’t miss the familiarity of home, but the things you’d left behind felt like a distant memory now.

Hyugo smiled softly, a look of understanding in his eyes. "You remind me of them," he said, almost to himself.

"Who?" you asked, confused.

Hyugo looked a little flustered. "Ah, nothing, nothing!" He quickly recovered with a smile. "I was rambling, forget about it."

You gave him a curious glance but didn’t press him further.

You felt a chill run down your spine as you noticed Sol standing behind you, casting a glance at Hyugo. It wasn’t just any look; it was a glare. A look full of irritation and... jealousy? You couldn’t help but smirk under your breath. "God, for real," you mumbled, feeling amused. "His jealousy is off the charts..."

You couldn’t resist letting out a quiet giggle. It was nice knowing that Sol cared, even if his emotions were all over the place. It was just another reminder that you had control—well, a little.

Hyugo, unaware of the silent tension between you and Sol, waved his hands at both of you, his usual cheerfulness cutting through the mood. "Come on, you two, let’s get going!" he said, already moving towards the stairs.

You and Sol exchanged a brief look before both of you nodded and followed him.

you walked down the stairs, a sense of unease lingered in the air. The wobbly steps beneath you made each movement feel uncertain. You caught a glimpse of Sol’s gaze, and for a moment, he looked at you like he was weighing something. His expression darkened just slightly.

You almost didn’t notice the step beneath you, and before you could steady yourself, your foot slipped, sending you off balance. You gasped in surprise, but just as quickly, a hand gripped your waist and another caught you by the back.

Sol’s voice sounded beside your ear, his surprise evident. "Y/n!" he called, his body pressing against yours to steady you. His chest was right against your back, and the warmth from his body wrapped around you like a comfort, even as his hand gripped your waist a little tighter, keeping you from falling completely.

You winced slightly as your foot throbbed in pain, but you didn’t want to let go of the moment. His touch felt so steady, so protective. "Ouch..." you whimpered softly, a hint of vulnerability slipping into your voice.

Sol’s face softened as he leaned down, his breath grazing your neck as he whispered, "Be careful, Y/n..." The concern in his voice melted your heart, and you almost forgot about the pain in your foot, focused instead on how close he was to you.

You felt his grip tighten, pulling you even closer against him, and you couldn’t help but sigh, your heart racing. You made sure to let yourself fall just a little more into him, your body practically melting against his. His hand never left your waist, and the contact sent shivers down your spine.

Hyugo’s voice suddenly broke the moment, his tone annoyed. "Fuck this school," he muttered, glancing back at you two, clearly fed up with the situation.

Sol’s grip didn’t falter. "It's forbidden for you to come here," he said sharply, his voice laced with an authority that almost made you feel like it was a command. Hyugo let out a dramatic laugh and darted down the stairs, running ahead. "We're troublemakers."

Sol glanced at you, his face still slightly anxious. "Let’s get you down the stairs," he said, his hand continuing to rest on your waist. He helped you walk, his touch so gentle but firm, making you feel both cared for and... completely loved.

You acted a little more helpless than you needed to, making sure your steps were slow, and your foot hurt just enough for him to keep holding you. Each time he adjusted his grip, you felt your heart flutter. His hand was warm against your skin, and it didn’t leave your waist—not once. Every time he touched you, you felt like you could melt into him. It was hard not to feel a little love-sick with the way he held you so closely, the way he seemed so intent on making sure you were okay, even if it was just walking down a set of stairs.

#visual novel #the kid at the back vn #tkatb #tkatb sol #tkatb x reader #solivan brugmansia #solvian x reader #sol x reader #the kid at the back sol #the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back crowe #sol brugmansia #tkatb vn #tkatb crowe #tkatb sol x reader

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astarioffsimpmain · 9 months ago

Text

Unsolicited Affections (Part 2)

[Far Left & Right Screenshots + Tav by @brabblesblog & Center Screenshot by Raz]

Halsin x Plus Size F!Reader

Warnings: Body insecurity; internalized fatphobia; Halsin is a sweetheart

Synopsis: Halsin's cure for your ailments isn't exactly what you expected, but you're not exactly upset about it.

Author's Note: Thank you again to Ban and Raz for the wonderful screenshots! This one is where we dig really deep, everybody. Settle in with your comfort items and prepare for some Halsitherapy. <3 I hope you all enjoy, and get ready for some spice in Part 3!

Part 1 Here | Part 3 Here

Your hands shook as you made your way toward Halsin's tent near the edge of camp. He had insisted on being the first line of defense from any unwelcome visitors as a way to repay you all for saving his grove from the shadow curse, and while at first you had argued, you stopped short after witnessing the earnestness in those beautiful green eyes. He wanted to do this. He wanted to protect you all. So you had relented, and had found it nearly impossible to say no to him since.

You clamped your hands together and steadied your breaths. "Gods, get it together. He's just going to check over your cuts and bruises like always." You reasoned, chastising yourself for even taking your vampiric friend's words into consideration. "I'm nothing more than a good Samaritan to him. He is being kind in response to my kindness, nothing more." You reminded yourself, doing your best to ignore the way your heart ached sharply at the admonition. You wanted to hope, but you couldn’t afford it. Wrenching your hands with one another, you stepped up to Halsin's tent and awaited his appearance.

"There you are." His soothing voice rumbled in your ear after several disarming seconds of silence and you would have toppled over in surprise had a strong arm not wrapped firmly around your waist to steady you. The Druid pulled you against his front and you nearly lost all of the breath in your lungs to the feeling of being tucked against him. He was solid, 7 feet of muscle mass, beautifully encased by the soft ripple of tanned skin that pillowed ever so slightly to accommodate you being pressed against it. You had never been this close to him before and your mind blanked as your heart hammered painfully against your ribcage.

"Yep, here I am." You managed to sound playfully flippant, unable to reveal your true feelings, despite how desperately you wanted to jump into his arms. "I really do think I'm alright, Halsin. Nothing more than a scrape here or a bruise there."

"Physically, you seem well for wear, but I sense something bothering you, and I'd like to help, if you'll allow me. So please, follow me. I believe I have just the remedy." He smiled down at you, at last releasing you from his hold, which sent confusing waves of both relief and disappointment coursing through you.

"Well… alright. I'll see what you have in mind." You mused, shrugging your shoulders and missing the way his eyes glinted in the light pulsing from the plants around you. You fell into step beside him, giddy at the prospect of spending more time with him. You figured this was as close to the Druid as you would ever get, so you relished each moment you spent by his side. You tried not to think about what would happen in the future. If you didn't end up the product of a non-consented ceremorphosis, what then? Where would you go? You knew it was likely that you'd never see Halsin again; that he'd return to the Grove to resume his position as Archdruid and that you'd end up somewhere far away, working some tavern job to survive. Hollowness carved its way through your chest, more painful than any knife, and you suddenly had to take a steadying breath to keep up with your companion's long strides.

‘Don’t think on it now,’ you chastised yourself silently, instead forcing a glance to the towering man beside you. He was relaxed, walking in a gate slow enough for you to keep up without much effort. A soft smile decorated his beautiful lips and his green eyes reflected the serenity of the darkness surrounding them. There was not much peace in the Underdark, but what little there was, you found with Halsin. Soon, the path he led you on tapered into a clearing of stone and rocks, and in the very center, a small lake. A gasp escaped your lips at the sight. It was beautiful. The water hummed with the glow of bioluminescent lichen from beneath the surface, growing in scattered mounds at the bottom of the body of water. From the surrounding rocks and the looming trees hung glowing moss, their effervescence bathing you and Halsin in a soft blue light.

"Halsin, this is stunning." You breathed out quietly, taking in the scene before you.

"It is, is it not? Even here in the Underdark, a form of nature prevails and finds a way to create beauty. It inspired me when I found it. I have checked the water many times over, and it is safe for submersion." He replied, looking across the lake with a sense of pride that he could only find in what was natural. Several more seconds of awe passed through you before the implications of his words connected in your mind.

"Oh, uhm…" you sputtered, your mind beginning to reel away from the scene before you and into your own insecurities. 'Oh gods, he's talking about swimming! I can't just swim in my clothes; can I? Maybe I can. He can't see me bare! Hells, he'd never look at me again!' Your thoughts ran away with you and you stood there, unmoving and unresponsive, and Halsin took notice.

"My heart, please be silent no longer. What is it that troubles you?" He coaxed softly, fingers trailing over your arm with a gentleness that should not be possible from a man his size. When you did not react, he reached forward with the same fingers and curved them under your chin, turning your head to face him. Your eyes met his, wide and afraid, and his other hand came up to cup your cheek, his fingers wrapping around the back of your head as he settled into the hold.

"Oh-" was all you managed to mumble before Halsin's lips were on yours; tender, loving. 'Gods..' your mind was racing.

You practically moaned into his mouth when he abandoned your chin to wrap his arm around your back, pulling you flush against him, the hard planes of his body sending electric shockwaves through you at an alarming rate. All thoughts from moments ago had scattered and you were awash with a feeling more overwhelming than anything you could ever remember experiencing. You weren't sure how your arms had made it around the Druid's neck, or when he had hoisted you into his arms, but when you finally parted for air, your ankles were crossed behind Halsin's back and he stood ankle deep in the lake, holding you in a vice grip against him. His eyes locked with yours and the green of his irises was overshadowed by how large his pupils were blown, staring at you like he held the world in his arms. You were made breathless all over again and felt your cheeks warm.

"I- gods… Halsin, I-" you sputtered, your words still not having returned to you quite yet.

"I do hope I have not been careless, my heart." He said lowly, his voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. "If I have misconceived your heart, I deeply apologize."

"I- no! Halsin, I- it was incredible. It was… it was everything, I had no idea. I never thought you would feel that way about- about me." You shook your head in surprise, a breathless chuckle escaping you. "Of all people." You added, attempting to seem at least somewhat put together in front of this incredibly handsome man who had just kissed you senseless.

A confused look passed across Halsin's features. "You speak as though you are disbelieving. You saved me. You saved my home, knowing I could do little to pay you back in return. You are incessantly kind to me, and understanding of my position, my condition-" He paused, his voice cracking with barely hidden emotion, and you reached a tentative hand to his cheek, brushing your fingertips across it gently in hopeful comfort. You let out a shaky exhale as he leaned almost desperately into your touch, his eyes having fallen closed. "You are a wonder, my heart. Nature could not possibly have made a more divine creature."

Your heart swelled, and the thorny vines that had grown around it over time began to prick it painfully, letting it bleed into Halsin's. You sniffled as a tear escaped your eye and cascaded down your cheek, and green eyes met yours once more. It was time. He deserved to know. "I-" you took a deep breath, steadying yourself. "It seems so foolish now, in the face of everything you've said to me."

"If it troubles you this deeply, it cannot be foolish." He corrected you gently, and you nodded, another tear falling down your face. He kissed them away like it was the most natural solution in the world and you giggled; a strained, breathless thing, riddled with leftover pain, shock, and love - gods, so much love.

You curled your fingers into his chestnut brown locks and fiddled with his braids while you sorted out the correct way to begin. Halsin waited on you patiently, stroking the undersides of your thighs with his thumbs as he continued to hold you far above the water below. "I have never been perceived as beautiful. The- uhm… well, the world has decided on an idea of what beautiful is, and I simply don't fit. I never have. No matter what I tried or how hard I tried it… I never became that ideal. I've come to accept, at this point, that I was never meant to be that. I have always and will always take up more space than most people. I will always have trouble finding clothes. I will always be more difficult to pick up and swing around. I will always be too large, in all the wrong ways." Tears were streaming from your eyes now, vehicles of the pain you carried deep in your heart running out to join the water around you. "I have always been told that someone will find beauty in me eventually, that someone will find me worthy of love, but there's a hesitancy in their eyes; a question in their gaze. 'Should I tell her this? Should I raise her hopes like this?' But even with all of their good intentions, I have only ever been ignored, or used and tossed away."

A little sob escaped you and you clapped a hand over your mouth to quiet it, but lips pressed firmly against your knuckles and you blinked through your tears to look at the Druid. "Do not hide your pain from me, my heart. I wish to see all of you, to love all of you. I wish for you to know my heart as well as my body, and I want the same from you." Your hand returned to his shoulder and he nuzzled your nose with his own. "You should never have had to know such heartache. You shine brighter than any sun, and had they not already been blind, perhaps they would have seen that." He murmured the words you had been longing to hear all your life into your mouth like a prayer, and then he kissed you with such earnestness that you thought you would melt away and become a part of the lake beneath you.

You cried through the kiss, your tears wetting Halsin's cheeks along with your own, but he only held you tighter, his fingers finding purchase in the dips your thighs readily made for his grip. When your lips parted, only far enough for air to play across them, Halsin murmured, his voice low, "Let us bathe together, my sweet."

fin

Tag List, Darlings: @thoughts-of-bear @knightofmight01 @snumlik @tifaria @listen-to-navi @greycloudsy @tiedyedghoulette @halsinsilverbough @nightlyrayne @the-library-of-the-smut @brabblesblog

(if your name isn't highlighted/underlined, I wasn't able to tag you!)

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #bg3 halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin silverbough #halsin x reader #halsin x f!reader #halsin x fem!reader #halsin x tav #halsin x f!tav #halsin x female tav #halsin x plus size reader #halsin x plus size f!reader #halsin x plus size tav #halsin x plus size f!tav #unsolicited affections

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tarotwithavi · 10 months ago

Text

When will you find love? And a little about your person.

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you

Masterlist

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Pile 1

Alright pile 1! Welcome to your reading and the first message I'm getting is that you will find love when you start loving yourself The way You want to be loved. And it may be a long journey to be honest. However the love that will come to you between your journey is something you have dreamed of, and for some of you I am seeing that you may also attract your future spouse. Because I keep seeing a long committed relationship with the person that will come into your life when you start loving yourself. But I also want you to know that the universe will test you and will send you duplicate copies of your future spouse who are toxic so you may encounter some situations where you made out if this person is your future spouse or not and I want you to always choose yourself in such situations.

Now let's talk about that person, I see that for most of you this person could be a fire sign or an Earth sign. The person you are meant to be with is really mentally strong and embodies the traditional qualities of their gender. What I mean by that is if you are a woman attracted to men your person will embody all the qualities of a traditional man like being the caretaker, being the provider etc. women attracted to women then your person will embody all the qualities of a traditional woman like being supporting, being nurturing etc. and their qualities will not be toxic like how traditional man are viewed as controlling and lack of consideration etc. and I'm also getting that your person will spend their money on you and their love language maybe gifting. I also see that your person belongs to a really big family or a family that has a rich background like some sort of reality or respect that comes from being born in their family. I also see that your person has a really nice voice and whenever they speak it sounds soothing. For some of you their mother may have been a single mom or they may not have good relations with their father. I also see that your person requires a lot of rest because the work they do requires a lot of their energy and their work could be mentally draining.

Pile 2

How are you? Pile 2, first of all I have a good news for you, you are on the journey of finding love and I am saying that because I see that you have been putting a lot of work on yourself and you have been feeling full of love these days for some of you you can literally feel deep inside of you that you are about to meet someone whom you are going to fall in love with. I also see that some of you may have been invited to go somewhere or you will be invited in the near future and you may meet your person there. Some of you are about to find love within a month and some of you will find love in summer time. I also see that you are about to be asked out on a date and I want you to give this a chance because I feel positive Vibes from this pile (of course only accept if you feel like doing it)

Now let's talk about your person. I see that your person could be a fire or a water sign and Aries, Leo and cancer specifically. I see that this person has been through a lot and you can literally see it on their face or you may feel it when you meet them. I also see that you both share equal feelings for each other and this may be the person you are crushing on currently. They may be an artist or they may like to create beautiful things in their free time. Another message I'm picking upon is that they will give you handmade things like handwritten letters , DIY flowers etc because I see that they are someone who shows their Love by doing things for the person they love. I also see that on a side note they may suffer from anxiety or depression or they may have insomnia. However they will recover soon and they could be born in the month of April or April could be a significant month for you. I also see that they hide their pain and their sufferings from others. This person is really physically attractive and they always have something nice to say. They give great advice and the words that come out of their mouth are literally the words of wisdom. I also see that they may do charitable work or they may work in the medical field. Your person may be a bit different from you or from the way you were brought up. For some of you, they can have a fear of lizards or it can be the complete opposite. They may wear a hat or turban, it could be related to their culture.

Pile 3

Heyyyy pile 3! The first thing I'm getting is that this pile is divided into two groups. People who resonate more with group 1 will find love soon, like within 5 to 6 months and the people who resonate with group 2 will find love in , maybe 11 months to 14 months. Now I will be listing some things which will help you find your group. If you are a fire sign or you talk a lot or you talk really fast, walk fast, have a black round mole on your right hand or right side of your body, long fingers, wear glasses not contracts, have more than 8 friends who you talk to, or like pink then you are group 1. And if you are an Earth sign, wear baggy clothes, have a great balance, are or may have been a cheerleader, live near forest, droopy nose, long fingernails or are wearing a black top/hoodie currently then you are group 2. Of course, you can read if you don't resonate with any of these groups.

Okay so I see that some of you literally manifested this person. Within the past 9 months you may have done a ritual or made a wish about love and your wish is about to be granted. I also see that you may meet this person through a friend or your sibling. Because I see that you will get to know this person through a mutual friend or someone. Another message I'm getting is that your person is literally a dream come true for you however I also see that they may have a lot of passion (you know what I'm talking about 🌝👀) and I also see that they are really knowledgeable they may speak 3 to 4 languages and they may have a lot of friends that are different from them. Another thing I'm getting is that some of you share a past life connection with this person and in this lifetime you two are meant to be together so nothing can pull you apart. I also see that your person has a lot of responsibility on their shoulders and I also see that sometimes they get overwhelmed by taking care of everything. They also have a tendency to stress over things they cannot control. Your person could be an air sign or Earth sign. They already have a bright personality and a lot of people notice them. I also see that they know how to take care of things and situations but sometimes they just stress over nothing. They have good time management and hate people who are not punctual. They know what they are capable of and they know what they deserve. They are really sure about themselves and they will not second guess their choices. They require a lot of time alone to function properly, however that will not be a hurdle in your relationship because I see that you have this quality too.

Muah 💋

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officialbruciewayne · 4 months ago

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Observations on Kryptonians:

Their Biology, Behavior and its Dynamic with Beauty

An anecdotal entry by Bruce T. Wayne, regarding his experiences with the Kryptonian People.

Over the course of the last century, Earth and Humanity has become aware that not only are we not alone in our universe- but that we are not alone on our world. At an undisclosed moment in our history, our homeworld became a refuge for the last children of Krypton, a world that was lost to unknown disaster.

Kryptonians are mysterious and alien, a recipe for rejection and prejudice on this planet. Not only this, but they have exceptional powers, which lure our worst impulses of greed and exploitation. We have not always treated them with kindness.

Despite our own lack of humanity, the most notable Kryptonians of our society continue to share their unique gifts and perspectives, choosing to help wherever they can.

As a Jewish man, and a Father, the legacy of the Kryptonian people, both in entrusting our world with their children, but with it, their future in the face of diaspora, humbles me.

I would like to offer my voice of support to our kin from beyond the stars. I have some personal experience with Kryptonians, and will attempt to demystify their habits and nature, to present them to you not as strangers from the skies, but as part of the infinite diversity of our world.

Not to be feared, not be used, but to be welcomed.

ברוכים הבאים לבית שלנו

Caveat on Kryptonian Powers

Most discussions of Kryptonian biology begin and typically conclude with a long list of the powers typical to Kryptonians. These powers are considerable, but are generally used to justify how they are treated. There is no value in me lingering on this much-speculated aspect of our Kryptonian kin.

Instead, I would like to discuss the lesser known traits that I have found to be personally charming.

Diurnalism and Sun-seeking

Kryptonians are naturally diurnal by nature, and are drawn to sunlight. When relaxed, they enjoy basking in our sun's warmth and when injured, or unwell, should rest in either natural sunlight, or be placed near a sunlamp.

Many Kryptonians display a tanned or dark-skinned complexion, which I found initially counterintuitive since it indicates protective melanin in Humans. In a Kryptonian, this coloration is actually indicative of stored solar radiation. In layman's terms, it's a sign of good health in your local Kryptonian.

(Art credit to @domnorian, please support the original work here, it is used here as an example)

Dentition and Diet

The intense demands of the Kryptonian body are supported by an incredibly high metabolism. Although they are primarily sustained by solar radiation, they can and do display a remarkable appetite. This energy is readily burned off by their bodies, so it should be considered offensive to shame or draw attention to how hungry a Kryptonian may appear to a Human.

Instead, attention should be paid to the variety of their diet. I have concerns that Kryptonian nutrition is not necessarily met by traditional human foods, and believe that supplements of various metals, sillica and crystalized minerals may be of great use to them. Further research is indicated, but consider they may not be fully satisfied.

This viewpoint is supported by the Kryptonian dentition, which features a diminutive but handsome set of fangs. As this is one of the more readily visible distinguishing features, some Kryptonians experience self-consciousness when smiling.

If it is of comfort to any Kryptonians reading this, Humans enjoy 'teefies' and like to remark upon the canine teeth of our companion cats and dogs. We find it 'cute'.

Ocular Notes

It has come to my attention that Kryptonian vision is more specialized for use during flight. It has great telescopic capacity, amongst its other various modes, but this can put them at a disadvantage in our society. Being so far-sighted, Kryptonians may struggle to read letters, smaller signs and newspapers without assistance.

If you see a Kryptonian puzzling over a piece of paper, and holding it at arms' length, any offers to help should be gently made. However, Kryptonians are notoriously friendly and inclined to offer help as much as receive it. You may well make a new best friend. In fact you probably will. Statistically.

A smaller note is that Kryptonian eyes- on account of the multiple facets to their vision -all appear to be a unique type of blue. This particular shade is potentially a generative emission of scattered sunlight, though it would require more detailed research and a far longer examination on my part to confirm.

They Purr

Yes, it is true. Kryptonians purr. It is a delight to listen to.

From my observations it seems readily triggered by the presence of children, or a desire to comfort others. As well as by their own contentment, whether physical, emotional and often both.

The frequency of the oscillations seem to differ between the two circumstances, supporting my current theory that this purring is both a form of communication, but separately resonant to encourage bone growth and soft tissue repair in the sick and injured.

Reproduction and Courtship

Having not conducted a relationship with a Kryptonian, I speak from a limited capacity of research. That said, to Humans looking to court Kryptonians, they appear to be receptive to forms of lip contact, and saliva exchange.

Further erogenous zones are speculative, but there is marked sensitivity along the length of the throat and just below the occipital bone.

Love

I put it to you that Kryptonians are not powerful - they are uniquely vulnerable. An endangered culture and people who have shown us compassion alone. They deserve our protection and understanding.

This is the only home they have ever known. They are not strangers from the stars, they are our friends sharing the same sunlight.

They love us. We should love them in return.

B.T.W

PS. @official-clark-kent I am no reporter, but I did enjoy trying my hand at a small thinkpiece. Perhaps we could go fishing sometime?

#I'm not an academic #but I do have opinions

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cherriecove · 2 months ago

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A New Dawn

Alicent Hightower x M!Reader

Summary: With the Hightower plot to place Aegon on the thrown a failure, Queen Rhaenyra finds herself unsure with what she should do with her old-friend. After some consideration she decides to remarry Alicent to her Hand, a man she trusts wholeheartedly, this of course upsets Alicent who belived her marital duties died when her husband did. Cherrie's Notes: This was a request that i really loved the idea of! Would like to apologiese in advance becasue this is so long I changed some things slightly but not too much. This is the first time I am writing a male reader and although there is no real description i hope it is satsfactory! There are so many words im sorry i got carried away! Masterlist

The bells of King’s Landing tolled in the early dawn, marking the end of one era and the uncertain beginning of another. With the death of King Viserys I, Queen Rhaenyra had ascended to the Iron Throne, securing her rightful place as ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, the victory was bittersweet, marred by treachery and near civil war. Alicent Hightower, Viserys’ widow and mother to Rhaenyra’s half-siblings, stood on the losing side. Her father’s ambitious plot to place Aegon on the throne had failed, and the Greens' hold on power was shattered.

Now, Rhaenyra ruled over a fractured court, her mercy the only thing keeping Alicent and her children alive. Otto Hightower, once the most powerful man in the realm, rotted in the dungeons. He was still scheming, still whispering plans of future influence, and Alicent found herself torn between loyalty to her father and a growing desire for peace.

Though Rhaenyra was urged to imprison or execute both Alicent and Otto, she hesitated. Old bonds of friendship still lingered in her heart, even if they had been buried beneath years of betrayal and political manoeuvring. In this delicate balance, you—Rhaenyra’s loyal Hand—offered a solution.

“If you wish Lady Alicent to live freely, Your Grace, then perhaps she should be placed under the care of someone you trust implicitly,” you had said, knowing full well the weight of such a suggestion.

“And who might that be?” Rhaenyra asked, her eyes searching yours with a knowing look.

You held her gaze. “Your Hand, Your Grace. I can see to it that she remains free but under close supervision.”

Rhaenyra’s expression softened into a sly smile. “Then you shall marry her.”

The queen’s words struck you as sharply as they did Alicent when she was informed of the arrangement. It was the last thing she expected. After all these years, she had thought herself done with marriage, with the expectations and duties thrust upon her. The mere thought of submitting again, of being bound by obligation, made her heart ache.

Yet on the day of the wedding Alicent stood before the sept, her hands clasped tightly, the weight of the world resting on her slender shoulders. The vows echoed around her like a distant murmur, a ceremony that held little meaning for her heart. She barely glanced at you, her brown eyes, once so bright and commanding, now distant and guarded.

This was not the life she had envisioned. After Viserys’ death, she had assumed her time as queen was over, that she would fade into the shadows, left to a quiet existence without further demands. The idea of marrying again, especially to someone with no ambition, no thirst for power, had seemed almost unreal to her.

Yet here she was.

The thought of being bound to another man filled her with dread. Despite your reputation for loyalty and honour, she couldn't help but fear what this union might become. Marriage, in her experience, had always been about duty, submission, and control. The idea of yielding herself once more, her body and will, to another man’s authority terrified her. This marriage felt like a new prison, different from the gilded cage Viserys had kept her in, but a cage nonetheless.

On the night after your wedding, Alicent retreated to her chambers, her heart a swirl of confusion and bitterness. She had braced herself for what she assumed would come next—a knock at her door, a quiet but insistent demand to fulfil the duties of a wife. Viserys had not been cruel, but he had expected certain things from her, things she had learned to accept despite her reluctance. She feared history would repeat itself, that you too would seek an heir, another way to secure this alliance.

But you surprised her.

There was no knock. No intrusion. The silence of her chambers stretched into the night, uninterrupted by any demand or expectation. The following night passed in the same manner, and the one after that. You did not come to her room, did not impose yourself upon her. Instead, you gave her space, a freedom she had not anticipated. It unsettled her at first, the lack of pressure, but slowly, she began to breathe easier.

You treated her with respect, never asking for more than she was willing to give. You allowed her to visit her father in the dungeons, though under strict guard. Each visit left her feeling more conflicted than ever, as Otto, ever the schemer, continued to urge her to find ways to manipulate you, to regain some of the power she had lost. Yet, despite his machinations, you remained distant from those games, patient and steady.

One evening, after another tense meeting with her father, Alicent returned to your chambers, her face drawn and her steps hesitant. She hovered at the threshold, her fingers curling around the door frame. You sat by the fire, a book in hand, your features calm and focused. The warmth of the flames cast soft shadows on the room, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside her.

“I need to speak with you,” she said quietly.

You looked up, closing the book and setting it aside. “Of course. Come in.”

She stepped inside but did not sit, her voice low and uncertain. “My father… he’s still trying to use me. He wants me to manipulate you, to influence Rhaenyra’s decisions. He believes I can sway you.”

You didn’t react with surprise, nor with anger. Instead, you simply nodded, as if you had already expected this. “Thank you for telling me.”

Alicent exhaled, her shoulders sagging slightly with relief. “I don’t want to be used anymore. Not by him. Not by anyone.”

You stood, your expression soft but serious, and approached her with a deliberate slowness, careful not to make her feel cornered. “Alicent, you are not under anyone’s control now—not your father’s, not mine, not anyone’s. I won’t let him use you, and I won’t treat you like a pawn in his or anyone’s schemes.”

She looked up at you, her guarded expression flickering with something close to disbelief. “You… you truly mean that?”

“I do,” you said, your voice firm but gentle. “I never wanted this marriage for power or gain. I have no interest in forcing anything upon you—marital duty or otherwise.I don’t expect anything of you that you’re not willing to give.”

She blinked, her lips parting in surprise. The firelight danced across her face, casting shadows that highlighted the tension in her features. For a moment, there was silence—unspoken words hanging in the air between you, an understanding growing in the space that had long been empty.

Finally, Alicent spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "You... don't want anything from me? Not even—" She hesitated, her words stuck in her throat leading you to shake your head gently. "No," you said, your tone calm. "I don’t expect that from you, unless that is something you desire.”

Alicent’s brow furrowed, a mix of confusion and hesitation clouding her eyes. “But we are wed,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Isn’t it… isn’t it your right to expect me to fulfil my duty? Is that not what this union is meant to be?”

Your gaze softened as you stepped closer, but still you remained careful not to approach too quickly. “You are not a vessel for duty, Alicent,” you said, your voice firm but gentle. “You are a person, not a means to an end. We are married because it is the only way to allow you peace, and to give our realm stability. Anything within our marriage is based on because you desire it—because we decide it together. Not because you’re bound to some obligation.”

Alicent stared at you for a long moment, as though searching for something deeper beneath your words. Perhaps a hidden motive, a secret ambition. But all she saw was sincerity. There was no calculated manipulation, no power-hungry intent in your eyes.

Her hand fluttered to her chest, her fingers absently tracing the fine embroidery of her gown. “I never thought… I never thought I’d be free from such burdens,” she whispered. “Not like this.”

You offered her a soft smile, a reassuring one. “Then let’s make this work in a way that brings you peace. I know that it might take time for you to believe that.”

She nodded slowly, as if the weight of your words was beginning to settle. And though she remained distant, there was a subtle shift—a crack in the walls she had built around herself. You didn’t want her to be caged, not even in the gilded prison of a marriage. You wanted her to feel free to breathe, to live her life on her own terms.

In the days that followed, your quiet respect for her space became apparent. She had come to your chambers less frequently, yet when she did, you never pressed her for anything more than conversation or companionship. The two of you would sit together, occasionally exchanging stories of the past, speaking of times before the chaos that had defined both your lives.

One afternoon, as the sun cast long shadows across the chamber, you and Alicent found yourselves engaged in a quiet conversation by the window. The room was filled with a soft, golden light, and for once, it felt peaceful—unnaturally so, in the midst of the court’s usual tumult.

“Do you ever miss it?” she asked, looking out at the gardens below, where the birds fluttered amongst the flowers.

“Miss what?” you asked, your gaze following hers.

“The life before all of this,” she said, her hand resting on the windowsill. “The days before the schemes, the plotting, the weight of responsibility.”

You leaned back against the wall, your gaze drifting to the same view she saw. “I miss the simplicity of it,” you admitted. “But I wouldn’t trade the peace I have now for it. The quiet moments like this. The stillness.”

Alicent was silent for a while, as though considering what you had said. Finally, she turned to face you, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You find peace in the simplest of things, don’t you?”

“I try to,” you said softly. “It’s the only way to survive in a world like ours.”

She nodded, though her eyes were filled with an uncertainty that had yet to fully leave her. For years, she had been used to a life filled with turmoil, her mind constantly burdened with the weight of others’ expectations. To be here, in this moment, with a man who did not want to control her, who did not demand anything of her, was a strange feeling—one she had not yet fully understood.

In time, as the days passed, your actions proved your sincerity. You allowed her to breathe, to make her own choices, while still offering her the safety of your protection. You never pressured her, never tried to push her into a role she did not want. And with each passing day, the distance between you lessened, even if only by a fraction.

The Small Council meetings had become more tense ever since your marriage to Alicent. The lords who sat at the table were no fools—they knew the weight of such a union. Whispers circulated through the court that you could no longer be impartial, that your marriage to the widow of the late king would compromise your loyalty to Queen Rhaenyra.

One such meeting came to a head when Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, leaned forward across the table, his brow furrowed. "You have served the queen faithfully for many years, Hand," he began, his voice deep and steady, "but now you are bound to a Hightower. Can we be certain your loyalties remain with the crown, rather than the family that sought to usurp it?"

Eyes turned to you, waiting for your response. The room was heavy with unspoken accusations, but you met them head-on, calm and unflinching.

"My loyalty has always been, and will always remain, with Queen Rhaenyra and the realm," you replied, your voice steady but firm. "I did not marry Lady Alicent for ambition or power. I married her because it was the Queen’s will, to keep the peace and ensure stability. If anyone here doubts my impartiality, let me assure you—my actions have always been for the good of the realm, not for the ambitions of any one family, including my own."

Lord Corlys, while still sceptical, leaned back in his chair, considering your words. The others exchanged glances, but no further accusations were made. Still, you could feel the lingering doubt, the tension in the air. It was a challenge you would have to face repeatedly as long as your marriage remained a topic of interest.

After the meeting, Rhaenyra sought you out, her brow furrowed. "They are suspicious of you," she said quietly, her eyes searching yours for any sign of resentment.

"They have reason to be," you admitted, not denying the reality. "But I will not betray you, my Queen. My marriage to Alicent does not change that."

Rhaenyra smiled, though faintly, and nodded. "I believe you. And that is all that matters to me."

While the realm questioned your loyalty, another tension brewed between you and Alicent. Though you had grown closer, there were still moments when her insecurities resurfaced, especially regarding her role as your wife.

One night, as the two of you sat in your chambers, she turned to you, her voice quiet but strained. “Do you expect me to give you an heir?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the floor. “I know I am still of childbearing age. You must expect children from me.”

You looked at her, surprised by the question. “Alicent, I do not expect that of you,” you said softly, setting aside the parchment you had been reviewing. “I married you because it was necessary for peace, not because I desired heirs.”

She frowned, her brow furrowed. “Then what do you want from me?”

You sighed, stepping closer but keeping your tone gentle. “What I want is for you to feel free. If you wish to have children, then that is your choice, not mine. But if you do not, I will not hold it against you. I am content to leave my titles to others—your children, or perhaps my nieces and nephews. My duty is to the realm, and to you, as my wife. Not to some legacy of blood."

Her eyes softened, surprise evident in her expression. “You are… different,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Not like the men I’ve known before.”

You offered a small smile. “Is that a good thing?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. It is.”

Over time, the relationship between you and Alicent deepened. Though it was not a marriage of passion, it became one of companionship. You spent evenings together, discussing matters of the realm or simply sharing stories from your past. Occasionally, she would speak of her children—her love for them, her fears for their futures—and you would listen, never judging, always offering comfort.

One evening, as you sat by the fire, Alicent glanced at you, her expression soft. “You’ve always been kind to me,” she said quietly. “Even when I didn’t expect it.”

You met her gaze, your voice gentle. “You deserve more than kindness, Alicent. You deserve peace. And if I can give you that, then I will.”

She smiled—a rare, genuine smile—and for the first time in many years, she felt a warmth she had long since thought lost. The heavy burden of her past was slowly lifting, thanks to the quiet strength and respect you had shown her.

As the months passed, Alicent grew more at ease in her new life. The tension between you eased, replaced by a mutual understanding and trust. She no longer feared manipulation or control, and you respected her autonomy in a way no man had before.

One afternoon, as you both walked through the gardens of the Red Keep, she turned to you with a soft smile. “I never thought I would find peace in marriage again,” she said, her voice light but sincere. “But with you… it feels different. It feels… free.”

You smiled in return, warmth filling your chest. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

For the first time in years, Alicent felt as though she was no longer a pawn in someone else’s game. She was finally allowed to live her own life, with a man who valued her not for her name or her power, but for who she was.

And in that, she had found something she never thought possible—contentment. A new dawn had come, for both of you.

#hotd #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #male reader

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