#He loved him to the moon and back and he never stopped loving him

[littlelamy]

Request: Maybe Rafe and Reader have been dating for awhile but his cocaine addiction is getting worse and he thinks she is to pure/good for him, so in order to ''save her'' knowing she won't just leave if he tries to break up, he says he does not love her.......cue to him saving her when she is about to get hit by a car (but happy ending)

a/n: thank you for requesting!!☺️💕 pngs from @saizun

the moon hung low in the dark sky, its silver glow painting the beach in a cool, otherworldly light. the stars above flickered like distant candles, barely visible against the ink-black horizon. you knelt in the damp sand, your breath clouding in the chilly night air as you carefully cupped a baby turtle in your hands.

the little creature’s legs flailed against your palms, desperate to reach the sea. its determination was a stark contrast to the ache in your chest that hadn’t dulled in the two weeks since rafe cameron had shattered your world.

“this way, little guy,” you whispered, placing the turtle closer to the waves lapping gently at the shore. you sat back on your heels, the water soaking into the hem of your pants, and watched as the tide carried the tiny creature away.

you felt at peace in moments like this—away from everything, especially the memories of rafe.

but peace never lasted long when it came to him.

rafe sat in his truck a short distance away, his fingers twitching against the steering wheel. he shouldn’t have come here. seeing you again, after what he’d done, was a mistake.

yet here he was.

from where he sat, he could see you crouched on the sand, your figure illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. you looked serene, your hair tumbling over your shoulders as you reached toward the water.

he clenched his jaw. he didn’t deserve to look at you, let alone love you.

but it didn’t stop him from being here.

two weeks had passed since he’d told you he didn’t love you anymore. two weeks of torturing himself with the memory of your face—hurt, confused, desperate to understand. he’d lied because he thought it would save you. because he thought pushing you away would keep you from sinking with him.

instead, it had only made him sink deeper.

on the seat next to him, a bag of cocaine lay unopened. for once, he didn’t even want it. what he wanted was impossible—to turn back time and undo the damage he’d done.

his stomach churned when he saw the headlights.

you heard the rumble of an engine before you saw the headlights sweeping across the sand. you turned your head, squinting against the glare as the vehicle sped closer.

it was a blue jeep, its music blaring loud enough to drown out the waves. your stomach twisted when you recognized it.

topper.

the bass from the speakers shook the air as the car barreled toward the shoreline, its tires kicking up clouds of sand.

“seriously?” you muttered under your breath, standing up. you waved your arms, your voice cutting through the night. “hey! slow down!”

the jeep didn’t stop. instead, it swerved closer, the headlights making it nearly impossible to see.

your heart hammered as the car bore down on you, its speed relentless.

rafe’s blood ran cold as he watched the jeep hurtling toward you.

it didn’t take much to guess who was behind the wheel. ruthie and topper had been drinking all night—it was obvious from the way the car swerved recklessly across the sand.

the jeep was getting closer, and you weren’t moving.

“goddammit,” rafe hissed, throwing his truck into drive and flooring the gas.

the sound of tires skidding on sand drowned out the crashing of waves.

the jeep’s headlights blinded you, freezing you in place like a deer caught in a trap. your legs refused to move, your breath caught in your throat as the car sped closer.

“y/n!”

the shout snapped you out of your trance, but it was too late. the car was almost on you.

suddenly, a solid force slammed into you, knocking you off your feet. you hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from your lungs as sand scraped against your skin.

the jeep swerved at the last second, speeding past with a deafening roar and disappearing down the beach.

you lay there, stunned, the world spinning around you.

“baby! are you okay?”

you turned your head and saw rafe kneeling beside you, his face pale and drawn, his chest heaving as if he’d just run a marathon.

“rafe?”

“you could’ve been killed!” his voice shook with anger and fear.

“i—what are you doing here?”

“are you serious right now?” he snapped. “i just saved your life, and you’re asking me that?”

his hands were all over you, checking for injuries. the touch was rough, desperate, and achingly familiar.

“i’m fine,” you muttered, sitting up slowly.

“you’re not fine,” he shot back, his voice cracking. “what the hell were you thinking, standing in the middle of the beach like that?”

“i was helping the turtles!” you exclaimed, frustration bubbling to the surface.

“turtles?” he stared at you like you’d grown a second head. “you almost died because of some turtles?”

“why do you even care?” the words spilled out before you could stop them, sharp and laced with bitterness. “you don’t love me, remember?”

rafe froze, his expression crumbling.

“y/n…”

“no, don’t. you don’t get to act like this after what you did.” tears burned your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “you don’t get to pretend like you care.”

“i do care,” he said, his voice raw. “i never stopped caring.”

“then why did you say it?”

“because i thought i was protecting you!” his voice rose, echoing over the waves. “i thought if i let you go, you’d be safe from me. from all of this.”

“rafe—”

“no, listen to me.” his hands cupped your face, his blue eyes searching yours. “i didn’t mean it. any of it. i said it because i’m a coward. because i didn’t want you to see what i’ve become.”

tears spilled down your cheeks, blurring your vision. “you didn’t have to do this alone. i would’ve helped you.”

“i didn’t want you to.” his voice cracked, thick with emotion. “you’re too good, y/n. too good for someone like me.”

“that’s not your decision to make,” you said, your voice trembling. “you don’t get to decide what’s good for me. i do. and i chose you, rafe. i always chose you.”

his thumb brushed a tear from your cheek. “i don’t deserve you.”

“then be someone who does,” you whispered.

he closed his eyes, his forehead resting against yours. “i don’t know how.”

“we’ll figure it out. together.”

the words hung in the air between you, fragile but full of hope.

for the first time in weeks, rafe felt like he could breathe again.

“i love you,” he said, the words breaking free like a dam finally bursting. “i love you so much, and i’m so sorry i ever made you think i didn’t.”

you pulled him into a hug, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck. he held you like you were his lifeline, his anchor in the storm.

“i love you too,” you murmured against his shoulder.

the night stretched on, the waves crashing softly in the background as you clung to each other. the future was uncertain, but for now, you had each other.

and that was enough.

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[calliopesdiary]

i wish i were heather...

synopsis: you were under the impression that you were stable in your secret long-term relationship with three of the four marauders, until it becomes clear that you aren't the girl they want anymore. (so you think). will you lose them before its too late? or have you already?

pairings: fem!reader x poly!marauders ` poly!marauders x lily evans

warnings: NO LILY SLANDER!! SHE'S PERFECT AND BEAUTIFUL AND ITS NOT HER FAULT!!, cusswords, ANGST, depressing, a blip of reader skipping meals on the radar but it's srsly nothing crazy, insecure reader, the marauders besides peter are dicks, reader is a little naive, the marauders borderline cheat on you, no happy ending, there might still be one thoughhh, possibly slytherin!reader if you squint?,

part one in the conan gray series

A/N!!: In some of the fic i use colors to represent a certain character! Orange is Lily, Red is James, and Green is Barty :3

wc; 2.4k

LIFE WAS AMAZING, which is not usually how stories begin.

You felt so safe and secure in your secret relationship with Hogwarts' once most eligible bachelors... The Marauders.

The rush of excitement that coursed through your veins every time you shared a hidden glance with Remus, or hiding in the showers of the Gryffindor boys locker room with James after his quidditch victory, and sneaking off to empty classrooms where anyone from anywhere could catch you with Sirius.

It was heavenly, these boys were all you would ever need.

until... now.

You were in Remus' sweater, he said it looked better on you than it did him. If only he knew how much you liked him...

The fireplace erupted with a citrine glow, illuminating the Gryffindor common room beautifully.

Most impactfully, it lit up Remus' scar-kissed features.

His freckles looked as if they were painted onto his face with careful hands by a renaissance painter.

His eyes half-lidded from his lack of sleep from the incoming full moon that was slowly approaching, it pained you to know how much they hurt him.

For once, Remus wasn't in a sweater. Since his was rested comfortably on your body, as your scent comforted The Wolf greatly.

And his scent comforted you, too.

Remus' book had suddenly landed on your lap, and though it startled you a bit. You didn't bother to ask why, until you sat up.

Remus was locked in a passionate conversation with Gryffindor's resident golden girl, Lily Evans.

"Evans, it's lovely to see you."

"Same to you, Lupin."

Godric, was she beautiful.

"I just stopped by to see if you had gotten any of the Defence Against The Dark Arts homework done?"

Lily Evans was as radiant as an angel who blessed anyone with her presence.

"I have; actually, I just finished my paper."

Remus seemed mesmerized by her, the golden gleam from the fire painting her features gorgeously in that same citrine glow as Remus'.

"Could I have a look of it? Not to copy it- obviously, I just want to see how others are wording the question."

You weren't even half as pretty as Lily.

"Of course, and I know you'd never cheat."

"You're the smartest witch in our year."

You tried not to mind other girls flirting with your boys.

Just because you knew that later that night they'd be back to your boys again, and only yours.

As she was about to go, she planted a soft kiss on the side of Remus' cheek, leaving him blushing softly as he bid her goodbye.

Your heart clenched, it was merely a pleasantry. You were being dramatic.

"Are you alright, dove?" Your head perked up at the sound of Remus' voice.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine." You mused, albeit a bit absentmindedly.

"Are you tired?" He asked carefully.

"I am, actually..." You forced a sweet smile onto your lips, as he leaned down to kiss them softly.

That kiss was the last one that felt anything more than a chore, an obligation.

That was also your last kiss with Remus.

Cheering James on at the quidditch pitch was just the thrill you needed after that melancholy moment with Remus.

He soared through the field like he was on top of the world, the players scattered around the pitch for one common goal: to win.

Gryffindor had won the game with 60 points, and James had caught the snitch like usual.

This game was also a rain game.

Just as you were about to head down to showers when you spotted Lily excitedly trailing after James.

You knew full well that James chased Lily tirelessly since they started school, that was also well before you came into the picture.

You also knew that she wanted nothing to do with him or the other marauders, so what was with her infatuation now?

Why your boys? She couldn't find her own boys?

But maybe she was just being friendly, right? The boys would never ever cheat on you... right?

You heard Lily giggle as James so graciously held the curtain open for her to enter the locker room, and your heart clenched.

You followed them in, jealously.

"James?" You called, as James poked his head from the changing area. Sweat glistening off his abs.

"Hi, Y/N." He shut the curtain behind him, as if he had something to hide.

Also; he barely just called you by your first name.

"You didn't come to see me after the game?" You questioned, grazing his cheek gently as he spoke."

"Sorry, Y/N. It was a long one." He excused, as he clearly looked a bit flushed.

"You look red, are you dehydrated?"

"Godric, y/n. you are hardly my mum."

You giggled as if it was a joke, yet he seemed quite stone faced.

You cleared your throat embarrassingly once you realized.

"I... just wanted to congratulate you on another win." You forcefully smiled again.

"Thank you, I really appreciate that." Then, he flashed his classic grin at you.

The grin he hadn't flashed at you since he realized he genuinely liked you.

What the fuck?

"Victory kiss?" You asked quietly, with some false hope mixed in.

"Of course." He pecked your forehead quickly, before hurrying off back to his changing area.

And with that, you had also left the steamy tent and outside into the cool, soft rain once more.

A forehead kiss? whenever he used to give you victory kisses they'd be full-on make outs in that same changing room or the showers.

James was falling out of love with you, and you knew it.

Luckily, you could easily disguise your tears with the excuse of it raining.

"Victory kiss?" Lily mewled, from her position on the stool in his changing spot.

"Just on the forehead, lovely."

You stopped showing up to breakfast, as the one time you decided to go Lily was sat in your spot next to Sirius.

Dorcas was nearly at her wits end with the boys and their antics.

The motley crew of Slytherins were the only ones who knew of your relationship, and they were pissed off.

"Treasure, surely they aren't fucked enough to know that you are the best thing they've ever had!" Barty explained, laying upside-down on his bed across from you.

"I-It's no use, Jr." You cried softly, mirroring his position yet on your bed instead. The tears (and blood) rushing to your hairline instead of your face because Dorcas said 'Your makeup is too pretty to ruin, love.' .

"There is a use, Y/L/N. we'll kill them-"

"Jr, absolutely not." Regulus chided, rubbing your shoulder. "She's clearly upset, I don't see the issue."

"Murder is never a good option, Barty." Dorcas scolded gently.

"So what are we gonna do then? My Treasure can't go on like this!"

"You said you've already talked to James and Remus? Maybe you can go talk to... eh... Sirius." Clearly, that name was hard for Regulus to get out.

"*Sniff* yeah, yeah- I'll go talk to him..." You sat up half-hazardously, and strutted out of the dorm-room to go (hopefully) save your relationship.

You still remember the third of December.

Sirius lounged on the couch while speaking with the other marauders, about some sort of prank on the other group of Slytherins.

"And then, we'll-"

"Hi, Siri." You sat next to him, beaming up at him (hopefully).

"...y/n." He greeted casually, before continuing to talk.

Your smile faded, as he continued to talk to your other boyfriends friends about this horrible prank.

Instead of leaving, you sat quietly next to them, as if you were some decoration or trophy wife.

This was truly your breaking point, as you saw Lily sit down on the couches of the common room as she caught all of their attention, you hadn't seemed to do that for ages. Though, she was wearing something familiar...

Remus'... sweater...

Remus'- YOUR Remus' sweater.

"How's it look?" Lily asked, giving them a twirl. Their eyes locked on her.

"Gorgeous, doll." Sirius flirted, shooting her a wink.

"Truly a sight for sore eyes." James grinned.

"It looks better on you than it did me." Remus took her hand and helped her sit down on the couch in between him and James.

That's exactly what he said to you...

He put his arm 'round her shoulder,

suddenly you got colder.

She's got them mesmerized... while you die.

But how could you hate her?

She's such an angel...

But then again you wished she were dead.

"Why would you ever kiss me?" You asked impulsively.

"What?" James looked up from Lily, all eyes on you.

"I mean- I'm not even half as pretty."

"Y/n, You're overthinking it-" Remus started it.

"You gave her your sweater!" You shot back.

"It's just polyester!" Remus defended.

"But you like her better." You felt the tears rush to your waterline.

"We're done." You whispered, leaving Lily looking so confused and the common room dead quiet.

"What does she mean by that...?" Lily seemed horrified.

"We... weren't really dating.." Sirius attempted to defend.

"Yes, we were, you tosser!" James shoved him.

"You said yourself that you were bored of her!" Remus stated matter-of-factly.

"Was I seriously the other woman?" Lily mewled, her hands clutching the sides of her head.

"Nonono- No, we were planning to break up with her but- because we all wanted you-" Sirius tried again.

"Then don't fuck around with her feelings just to get me!" Lily yelled, standing up quickly.

"I appreciate the admiration- but I need time to process, okay? You all were absolute... arseholes to her, I'll admit." Lily started,

"Are you saying no?" James quickly cut in.

"...No..." Lily ended.

After crying your eyes out to Barty and Regulus over your breakup, December 7th rolled around.

The day that students were meant to be studying for their OWLS and other end of term exams.

You would usually be in the library 24/7.

Lily, had finally come around and accepted the boys' proposal, and their relationship became public quickly.

Lily obviously still felt this bitter taste of guilt in her mouth, as did all of them.

So today, Lily had convinced them all to apologize to you for borderline cheating and lying and manipulating and gaslighting-.

But, you were nowhere to be found.

"Regulus! Regulus, wait up!" Lily ran through the hallways to get to her.

"Evans, Brother.. Potter... and Lupin.." She said those last three names with utter disgust.

"We're trying to find Y/n, have you seen her?" Remus asked quietly, he was definitely feeling the most guilt.

"Y/n? Well, If she was here, I think she'd completely refuse to see you lot." Regulus explained bluntly.

"W-What do you mean "If she was here"?" James questioned.

"I mean, Her, Junior., and the Rosier twins completed their OWLS early and hightailed it to Junior's holiday house for the rest of the break." He explained casually.

"What?" Sirius scowled.

"What the hell is my girl-... Y/n doing with them?" James had the same expression as Sirius.

"They are simply better friends then you were to her, hm? I don't blame her."

"When will she be back?" Lily asked breathlessly.

"End of December, If she ever returns." Regulus strolled away, potions book in hand.

"...We fucked up."

Fin.

[leighsartworks216]

The Goddess of the Moon

Zayne x gn!Reader

I will never stop writing Zayne in domestic situations apparently. Infold said they're married and I said say less

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, literal sleeping together, established relationship, cuddling, kissing

Word Count: 926

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Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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Zayne is the most beautiful man you have ever seen, but he is never more beautiful than when he is sleeping.

Over the years you have known the doctor, it always seems like rest is a commodity not reserved for him. He’s always pushing through exhaustion. Even when he was a student, he’d barely rest, so focused on his goals and achieving them. So on the rare chance you do get to catch him sleeping, you learn to appreciate it.

The sun isn’t up yet. It won’t be for a while. His face is highlighted by the cool blue light of the moon. The cut of his cheekbone, the tip of his ear, the bump in his nose. It’s as though a goddess of the moon took centuries crafting him until he was just right, before releasing him off into the world, only to yearn to once more know the feeling of his face under her fingers.

You can’t blame her. Not when you get this chance to see the crease in his eyelids, the dip of his cupid’s bow, the soft round of his chin. Time and time again, like this moon goddess, you are tempted to touch him. To reach out and feel him, solid beneath your fingertips, just to confirm that he’s real and not merely an illusion. You felt quite bad about it early on in your relationship. Really, back then, figuring out the boundaries of physical affection was rough.

You can recall one day in particular. You took him to an ice cream shop. They’d just announced a new flavor you thought he’d enjoy, and he deserved a break after the week he had. You’d sat outside while you ate your frozen treats, chatting. Back then, there was still a gap of space between you. Unthinkable now. Anyway, a small smudge of the ice cream made its mark just below his lip. Without thinking, you’d reached out to wipe it away while he stared at you. You’d profusely apologized, rambling on to try explaining yourself, and handed him a napkin.

Later, after insisting on dropping you off at your then-apartment, he’d brushed a thumb along your cheek, thanking you quietly for the ice cream.

Your eyes trail to that spot just under his lip, where pink meets the cream of his skin. Emboldened by the light of the moon, you slip your hand from under the covers to wipe away an invisible smear of ice cream. His skin is soft and warm, with the telltale hint of fuzz starting to come in. You’d teased him before about keeping such a close shave. He’d teased you back about how much you seemed to enjoy helping him shave.

“You should be asleep.”

Sleepy hazel eyes watch you from under half-lids, flickering lazily across your face. You wonder what he sees. You wonder if the moonlight touches your face half as reverently as his. You wonder if he’s just as tempted to reach out and touch you as you are to touch him. Perhaps you get your answer when he slips his hand from the blankets to hold yours, eyes blinking slowly shut as he tilts his head on his pillow to kiss your fingers.

“What are you doing up?” His voice holds the quiet rasp of sleep. It is the embodiment of moonlight over freshly fallen snow.

“Admiring you.”

He opens his eyes again. His pretty lips quirk up in a smile. “There’s plenty of time for that in the morning,” he says, “after you’ve had a full night’s sleep.”

You sigh with playful annoyance. “What if I can’t wait that long?” You wriggle your hand from his grasp and cup his cheek. His eyes close immediately at the contact. He turns into your palm like it’s second nature to do so, sliding his hand to rest on the back of yours in much the same way. You brush your thumb over the moonbeam kissing his skin. “What if I just have to admire you right now?”

“Then I’ll have to turn you over to save you the temptation.”

Despite his threat, he instead reaches out to you, grabbing your waist and coaxing you into him. You gladly oblige, tucking yourself against his chest like a set of puzzle pieces. His bicep acts as your pillow as he tenderly rubs your back. You stubbornly refuse to hide your face in his neck just yet, though. Face to face and closer than ever, you rub your nose against his.

“You need to go to sleep,” he insists, but it’s a weak scolding at best. “We both do.”

You hum. “Then go to sleep. I’ll just stay up for a bit longer to really take you in.”

He chuckles quietly and pulls his face from yours. He cups your cheek and guides your face down into his neck, where he rests his head on top of yours. He rubs his cheek against you until he finds a comfortable spot. “In the morning.”

His thumb brushes lightly over your cheek. You sigh, hot breath fanning across his skin. “Fine,” you relent. Though, as you wrap your arms around his lean body and inhale the crisp scent of his body wash, you can feel sleep beginning to creep back into your mind, dulling your senses and sapping your energy. You kiss his neck in a chaste peck. “I love you.”

He kisses your head. “I love you, too.”

The goddess of the moon dances her fingers across you both, slowly retreating as the sun begins its ascent. 

---

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[mykuup]

Λ𝘋 𝘓𝘐𝘉𝘐𝘛𝘝𝘔 (toward pleasure) PART II

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My Masterlist | PART I

Summary : After your night at the palace, you return to your life and to your husband. But if rumors and whispers are tough to cease, it's even impossible to stop an emperor.

wc : 4.1k

Warnings : No spoiler from the movie // angst // fluff // mention of cheating // mention of violence // threat with a dagger // possesive!Geta // soft!Geta // married!reader // afab reader (but no description)

A/n : You asked, I delivered 😎 Ty ty ty ty for your appreciation for Ad Libitum pt I !! I never thought you would love it that bad! I really hope this part II will satisfy your appetite. Sorry I took my time but I'm also working on another story for our beloved emperor.

Please, interact with this I would love to see your reaction to this ending! (Also it makes me happy to see that you enjoyed my work 💜)

Sorry if you spot any mistake

Taglist : @byronking @stardancerluv @preparedfruit @userchai @helsa3942 @preparedfruit @analves @silentwhisper666 @deliciousfestsalad @saphirmoraitie @justnobodynothingmore @claudialioncourtdulac @phobobobophobia @koshkahhhh @noblenighttime @moon-390

Dalia was the first to work this morning. She had already prepared pressed fruit juice and arranged bread and cheese plates with a watered-down wine carafe. As she walked in the long corridors to bring it to Caracalla’s quarters, she noticed a half-naked woman heading out of Geta’s bedroom. Dalia saw how her hair was tangled and how she was handing her dress to hide her modesty, walking hurriedly towards the empress’s quarters. It wasn’t hard to understand the whole situation. A wide, evil smile enlightened her as she returned to the kitchen. She had to tell everyone that Geta spent the night with a concubine.

You exhale in relief as you enter the empress’s quarters. The walk of shame from Geta’s bedroom to this little chamber where you had changed earlier, happened without crossing anyone. Well, you thought you heard something but it was just your foggy mind playing tricks as no one was around. You tried to stay silent as much as possible as you were changing to your original dress. Images of Geta’s chocolate eyes were on your mind on repeat and guilt flooded your entire being.

How did you end up in this whole situation? You were happy, living a peaceful life with your husband. Speaking of, how could you explain this to him? Well, do you really want him to know? You weren’t a liar, he knew you had spent your childhood in this palace and that your parents were still working there. And even though you spoke to him about how you used to play with the young emperors when you were a child, he knew you weren’t friends with them. You never were. Your mind was racing so you didn’t notice the soft ruffles of Julia’s nightgown and you were startled when she cleared her throat. You turn to look at her and she instantly notices the turmoil inside you. She stepped closer and hugged you.

‘Rome will always be grateful for what you’ve done,’ she said softly as she pulled off. ‘I’ll be sure to send you a gift to thank you.’

You shake your head. ‘I don’t need any gift or reward Your Highness,’ your voice was firm. ‘I just want to go back to my life as if nothing ever happened here.’

Julia’s heart shattered. She really liked you and she genuinely thought you would be the perfect partner for her son. But she couldn’t say that. She respected your choice, and the fact that you already endangered your marriage for her made her keep her thoughts to herself.

As you walked away, she couldn’t fight asking you a question.

‘Are you feeling alright?’ You turned back to look at her, arching a brow. ‘Was he gentle with you?’ You could see in her eyes she was genuinely concerned to know if her son hurt you in any way possible.

But what Geta did to you tonight was totally opposite from hurting you. Memories of the tenderness he showed you invade your mind again and you smile.

‘He was the best lover I ever had,’ you simply answered before you left. You didn’t want to lie to her, and even though it was hard for you to admit it, this simple statement was the pure truth. Never the few men you had known worshipped you the way Geta did. Even your husband, who was caring and in love with you, never showed you how you truly deserved to be loved…

When you finally reach your little cottage, you spend your entire day thinking about what you did and how your life is now going to be different.

The sun rising casted soft lights through the heavy curtains seams, softly warming Geta’s face. Half awake, he shifted under the blankets and reached out for you. But all he could feel under his fingers was the coldness of the empty linen sheets. He rose abruptly, looking for you in his quarters. But you were nowhere to be found. He hastily put on his robes and stormed out of his bedroom, reaching directly to his mom’s. He crossed paths with several servants on his way and almost missed their whispers and giggles. Something was happening but he couldn’t mind less as his panic started to rise.

‘It was you right?!’ he asked without any form or greeting. His mom's eyes went wide as she wasn’t expecting to see her son this early. In front of her silence, Geta spoke again. ‘You did this, didn’t you? And now she’s gone!’ Different feelings were colliding in Geta’s heart and mind. 

Panic, fear, rage, and desperation.

The empress saw the distress in her son’s eyes and tried to reach for him. But Geta stepped back. ‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘Wh—what have you done?!’ His voice trembling, betraying him. Julia tried to reach for her son again, hugging him as he let her approach this time. His fists and jaw were clenched tight as his mind was clouded.

‘I’m sorry,’ Julia whispered, trying to soothe her son. ‘Don’t be mad at her. I was the one asking—’ Geta pulled out from his mom’s embrace, eyes wide.

‘What. Have. You. Done.’ his tone was as cold as ice as rage flooded his entire being. Julia stepped back and stumbled over her chair and then the little table as Geta was slowly walking toward her, a menacing look in his eyes.

But Julia knew otherwise. She was the empress of Rome and even though her sons were now ruling, she understood the importance of the citizens’ opinion. She stood in front of her son, her feet firmly on the ground. ‘I asked her to make you a man so you can satisfy your future wife and rule this city as you are destined to,’ her voice calm but firm.

‘You… you were ashamed of me…’ Geta realized, disgust and disappointment in his voice. Julia’s heart falls on her stomach at the statement.

‘I’ll never be ashamed of you. You’re my son, my beloved son,’ she added as she cupped his face. ‘But those rumors were deteriorating faith citizens had in you so—’ Geta cuts her off.

‘So what? You’ll make a public announcement saying I shared my bed with a woman?!’ The young emperor was annoyed that this was his mother’s plan. Of course, he knew about the rumors, it was the first thing he talked about to you last night. But a part of him wanted to believe you were there because you actually cared about him. He even hoped you would love him. But it was foolish of him to even think of it. 

‘In a few days, you will meet the Princess of Galatia (modern Turkey).’ Geta froze in place. ‘Her father and yours were old friends. We agreed this would be the best option as she’s still young and you needed to be experimented for her.’

Geta's eyes went wide, his pupils fully blown out, and no brown was left. Veins could be seen on his forehead and neck as his jaw clenched tight, his teeth almost shattering at the strength. His pale complexion was long gone, deep red now adorning his face. A single tear fell from the corner of his eye as rage consumed him.

‘Where is she?’ He managed to speak, his fingers bruising his mother’s skin as he held her by the shoulders. ‘They will arrive soon—’

‘NO!’ Geta screamed, cutting his mom’s off. ‘WHERE IS SHE?!’ And Julia figured out he was talking about you. ‘Please she—’ But the look he gave her sent a thrill down her spine. He made it clear she would not dare to make him repeat himself.

Julia gulped, now a bit afraid of her son. ‘She’s gone, Geta. You can’t have her… she’s married.’ Her last words felt like a punch in the guts. Geta let go of his mother and, without a word, as she thought, he walked away. When he reached the big wooden door to exit his mother’s quarters, he stopped.

‘I am the emperor,’ his voice surprisingly calm and steady. ‘I can have whatever I want.’

A few days have passed since you ran off the palace. Your husband was back from the countryside with new fabrics to sell at the market. It had been two weeks since he last saw you so when he noticed you were home, waiting for him, he couldn’t stop himself. He was too excited.

‘I missed you so much,’ he said as he was kissing your lips and caressing your body under his. You shivered as your mind was elsewhere. As you closed your eyes, flashes of deep brown eyes flooded. You could hear his voice whispering praises. You imagined it was him kissing you right now. You snapped your eyes open, ashamed of thinking about someone else while your husband was making love to you. But it didn’t felt the same anymore. He tasted different, his touch wasn’t enough. Even when he dived inside of you, your pussy was aching, not feeling full enough. You hated yourself right now. And the feeling lingered as your life kept going.

Guilt, shame, and irritation followed you for days. Your husband noticed something and tried his best to understand what was going on but you shut yourself, not letting him in. You didn’t wanted to hurt him, even though you knew you already had and he had no clue.

At the end of the week, Rome was celebrating. It was announced that the royal family of Galatia was there. Games would be played in the arena and tons of merchants were in the flooded streets to sell pastries, exotic fruits, and other things to the citizens and guests. To get a better chance at selling more, your husband asked you to accompany him.

As you were behind your stand, you caught a woman staring at you. You didn’t pay attention at first but then you noticed she was talking to other women around her. All of them looking at you and giggling. As you stared back, you recognized their outfit and then, it snapped at you. They were all servants at the palace. And the way one of them looked at you with a devilish smile, you understood. That night when you were towering back to the empress’s quarters, you heard something. You heard footsteps but saw no one. But this girl, you knew she saw you.

It couldn’t be otherwise.

You wanted to do something. But what? Confronting them could pull out the truth and your husband would know. The worst thing would be for the entire city to know that you, a married woman, ended up in the virgin emperor’s bed. It could bring shame to the entire royal family and you would be sent to exile if not killed in a public place.

You felt sick, bile stinging in your throat. You had to do something, to find a solution. The servants scattered and you wondered how much time it would be left for you until the rumor spread and landed in Geta’s ears. You looked around you, it was late in the afternoon so you could pretend you needed some rest and go home alone and figure it all out there.

‘Are you alright dove?’ your husband asked you, worried in his voice as he looked at you. He saw the panic in your eyes, you couldn’t hide it.

‘I’m just… I don’t feel well. I think I need to rest.’ Your husband tilted his head, trying to understand your late behavior. But he remembered his father teaching him how women could be very mysterious creatures and that sometimes, a man should know when to let go.

‘Right, why don’t you go with Orina? Her husband told me she also wanted to leave the market early.’ You nodded as he kissed your forehead and you walked toward Orina. 

She was older than you, her husband was a spice seller. Convenient for you, she went to the marker with her horse. So you ride behind her until you both reach her house. She offered you to stay but you declined politely and walked toward your little house. The sun had disappeared when you pushed your cottage’s wooden door. You sigh, your mind racing with thoughts. You felt your headache growing and then an idea came out.

You had to disappear.

Julia did her best to not let her son comb through the entire city to find you. When the royal family of Galatia arrived, Geta was trapped. He had to stay at the palace for his guests but he was boiling inside. His mother’s plans felt like betrayal and in his rage, he thought for a second to punish his mom for this. Even when he was in the arena, watching the games, his mind was elsewhere. He was obsessed with you, the souvenir of your lips on his haunting his every thought. His mother tried to force him to get closer to Princess Nazenin, but Geta only stayed polite, his coldness toward her barely hiding. 

The fight down in the arena was almost finished when a servant sneaked in to whisper something to the king. His eyes went wide and his fist landed abruptly on the arm of his chair. Everybody was startled and turned around to look at him. Anger was written on his face as he first looked at Geta and then at the empress. 

‘You lied to us!’ he screamed and Julia rose from her throne. ‘Your Highness I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ her tone was desperate as she was lost, not knowing what was happening.

‘You told us we would come here to marry our children but it came to my ears that your son is already engaged to an insignificant whore?!’

Julia’s eyes went wide but it was nothing compared to Geta’s. He grabbed his dagger from his golden belt and aimed at the king, his blade stopping at his throat, dangerously close to cut through his skin. Everyone on the balcony was shocked and Geta spoke, his voice trembling with hate and rage.

‘Never call her that again.’ He took a look around, noticing everyone's reaction. Caracalla was bouncing on his throne, thrilled to see his brother kill someone. His mother was mortified, silently pleading for the king’s life. The princess was kneeling before him, also praying for the emperor to let her father go. And finally, he noticed the servant hiding behind a collum. He let go of the king, not even listening to the relief and complaints of what just happened and walked toward the servant.

‘Who told you that?’ Geta asked, gripping firmly at the collar of the servant’s tunic. She was so scared of him that nothing came out of her throat. ‘TELL ME! He shouted and the servant babbled her answer.

‘Da-Dalia, she saw the concubine at the market selling fabrics, and she—’ Geta didn't let her finish her explanation. He let her go and, without looking back, left the coliseum. He took a horse and rode to reach the marketplace. The streets were still full of people but he didn’t mind, hurrying the animal to go faster. When he saw the first fabric stand, he looked around to find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He noticed that the sellers were often couple or at least two for one stand. So when he found one with only a man behind his display, he reached for him.

‘You!’ Geta called, pointing at the man. The seller bowed before him and tried to hide his nervousness. ‘Are you alone?’ The man rose to look at the young emperor, not really sure why he could ask him such a question. ‘Don’t make me repeat myself,’ Geta’s impatience showed in his tone.

‘Yes, Your Highness I’m alone. My wife just left to get some rest—’

‘What’s her name?’ Geta cuts him off and confusion could be seen on the seller’s face. When he told Geta your name, the emperor saw red. He was your husband. How could you be with such a simple man when you deserved the entire world?! This man couldn’t even afford golden threads for his fabrics. Or worse, he couldn’t even protect you from those horrendous rumors. He could get rid of him so easily, but this would be for later. Right now, Geta needed to find you. ‘Where is she now?’

‘Home, she was—’

‘Where?!’ Your husband gave him the information and Geta didn’t waste a second, his horse galloping as fast as it could.

Your house wasn’t far from the city and when he saw the little cottage with two pine trees as your husband described it, Geta felt some relief for a short second.

But panic started to get over him as he saw no fire or candlelight from the little window. You weren’t there. He crossed the little bridge and hurried to your front garden. He climbed out from his horse, attached the leash to the wooden hedge, and started looking for you. At first, he tried to broke into your house but the door was locked and he could guess you weren’t inside anyway. But when he looked around, he noticed a little dot of light moving further on the unpaved path.

A candlelight. 

You were grabbing your cape tightly as you were walking away from Rome. You decided it was best for you to leave this place before it could go out of hand. You didn’t wanted your husband to be shamed, and you wanted to avoid your head to end up on a stick. But as you were running away from your life, you heard someone shout your name and heavy hooves hitting the ground. When you turned around, Geta was there, slowing his horse as he got closer to you. You let go of the little candle you were handling and started to run but he was faster, getting in your way.

‘Where do you think you’re going?!’ Geta said, his tone harsher than he intended. You took off your hood and looked at him, wondering how he ended up here. Why did he came after you after all these days? Wasn’t he supposed to get married to whatever child this royal family brings?

‘Your Highness you—’ 

‘Stop calling me like that,’ he cuts you off. ‘Stop pretending nothing happened between us.’ You swallow hard. Of course, you couldn’t act like he wasn’t on repeat in your mind. That is why you were leaving in the first place.

But your ego was also big and you didn’t wanted to show him how much you were affected by him.

‘This is the only way… Your Highness,’ you dared and turned back to walk away. Now you were getting on his nerves and he hated this attitude of yours. He grabbed you by the arm to stop you, bringing you close to him. You tried to set free in vain. He was strong, his grip already bruising your skin but not in a sweet way. You cried out, pleading for him to let you go. Geta grabbed your face with his other hand, making you look at him, his pupils all blown out.

‘My mom told me I can’t have you but I told her otherwise,’ he stated with gritted teeth. ‘So stop playing games. Let me take you back to the palace.’

‘I don’t care what you told to your mom. I’m married, you can’t have—’

‘STOP IT!’ Geta shouted, and you stopped fighting, stunned by his loud voice. ‘Stop telling me that I can’t have whatever I want. I am the emperor, I take what I please. Your husband? I can get rid of him so easily, you have no idea.’ Your body shivered. You couldn’t let him kill your husband, it was too extreme. Geta saw the panicked look in your eyes. His grip on you loosened but he made sure to keep you close, his arms now encircling your body gently. He offered you a smile to ease the tension between you and he spoke again, his voice soft and calm.

‘I almost killed a king for you today. And I would kill anyone if it’s the only way to have you by my side.’

His eyes locked on yours and you noticed how serious he was. Of course, he had to go for the most intense way. His gaze softened as you were still silent and he softly called out your name.

‘Please, come with me. I—I don’t even know how you did this to me. All I know is that I can’t live without you. I need you more than a starved man needs food I… I need you more than a fool needs guidance from the Gods.’

‘Geta please, we can’t—’ you tried but he cupped your face, his rings cold against your hot cheeks. ‘I would burn Rome and the entire world if you ask me to,’ he whispered, and you could feel his breath on your lips. ‘Please,’ his words only a gentle murmur now. His lips crushed on yours and you melt at his touch, your body entirely burning for him.

Everything around you disappeared as his embrace tightened around you. You hummed when he tried to play with your tongue, and your hands instinctively went to get tangled in his ginger locks. His hands were roaming on your body, making you feel safe, loved, and worshipped. You gently pulled out to get some air and you looked at him. Geta’s cheeks were all flushed, his deep brown eyes falling to your lips before locking his eyes in yours.

You took a deep breath, thinking about what you would say to him. But before you could say anything, he took out his golden-leaves crown to put it on your head and fell to his knees. His arms still encircling you, he looked at you one more time before nudging his face at your belly, his hot breath fanning over your core through your dress. He inhaled your scent and hummed in satisfaction before pulling away to lock his eyes into yours again.

‘Please, let me make you the greatest empress Rome has ever known.’

At this moment, it felt right to nod your head in approval. You couldn’t refuse him anything with the way he was staring at you. He never looked so desperate yet so hopeful. His grip around you was soft yet strong and you realized how madly in love Geta was. You cupped his face to bring him back close to yours as you sighed, still thinking about your decision.

‘Geta,’ you spoke softly as you got lost in his deep chocolate haze. ‘I—What will happen next?’

You were waiting for something, a reason to say no, or maybe something that doesn’t sound crazy. But the truth was that you wanted to be his as he stole your heart in the sweetest way possible. He might had a sixth sense because his answer reflected what you were thinking.

‘You stole my heart the moment I saw you in the palace. And for as long as I remember, you were the only one visiting me in my dreams. If you agree to go back to the palace with me, I promise you only glory and happiness. I want you to be the empress of Rome. I want you to be my wife. And I want you to be the mother of my children. Because you deserve the world, I will bring it to you, fighting and winning every battle I can to show you that I’m worthy of your love.’ He kissed you on the corner of your lips and added in a whisper. ‘That’s what will happen, I promise.’

Without thinking twice, you crushed your lips on his, gripping his robe to get him as close to you as possible. Your kiss was wild, full of hope and desires, the moon and stars the only witnesses of this raw love you showed him. When you pulled out to breathe, Geta’s eyes were full of spark and lust, mirroring yours. You both didn’t ride back to the palace, spending the night entangled in each other’s arms, making love under the moonlight.

When the morning sun rose up, and after putting back your clothes on, Geta offered you his help to get on the horse. ‘Your Highness,’ he said with a very distinguished tone. ‘Your throne awaits.’ You giggled at his sudden playfulness, surprising you with a new side of him you know you will be more than happy to discover. As you encircled your arms around his waist, he caressed your hand and softly ordered the horse to walk.

‘I can’t wait for Rome to see you, my empress. ’

[jacqueline-01]

You're Safe With Me

A.H x Y.N

healing from toxic family, comfort, fluff

The boutique lights sparkled softly against the polished floors as you stood in front of a row of delicate necklaces. They gleamed like tiny constellations, arranged neatly on black velvet. Your fingers hovered over one—a simple gold chain with a small, crescent moon pendant. It wasn’t flashy, but something about it called to you.

You hesitated, heart pounding as your mind raced back to the echoes of your childhood.

“You don’t need that,” your mother’s sharp voice rang in your ears, cutting through the calm of the present. “Why are you even looking at things like that? Do you think we’re made of money? Do you think you deserve it?”

You could still feel the burn of embarrassment you’d felt as a child, standing in stores like this, admiring something small and simple, only to be scolded for it. Even when you’d had money of your own—birthday gifts, babysitting money—it had felt impossible to spend. Every purchase had come with scrutiny, criticism, or worse, guilt.

“You’re being selfish,” your father had once said when you’d asked for a new pair of sneakers, your old ones too worn to wear without socks showing through. “You already have shoes. Why are you wasting money on another pair?”

Aaron’s voice broke through the storm of memories, his presence grounding you. “Do you like it?” he asked, his tone gentle and encouraging.

You blinked, realizing your hand was still frozen in mid-air. “Oh, um… it’s nice,” you murmured, but the conflict inside you was already bubbling over.

He stepped closer, his steady warmth chasing the cold from your chest. “If you like it, let’s get it,” he said simply, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

You shook your head, swallowing hard. “It’s too much,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Aaron frowned, his gaze softening as he studied you. “It’s not too much,” he said firmly. “Y/N, you don’t have to convince yourself you don’t deserve nice things. You do.”

The tears surprised you, stinging your eyes before you could stop them. “It’s just… it’s hard,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to—well, I wasn’t allowed to buy anything unless it was ‘necessary.’ Even then, it was like I had to justify everything. I’d saved money for years, but it didn’t matter. It was never really mine.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened, his protective instinct kicking in as he reached for your hand. “I hate that you went through that,” he said softly. “It wasn’t fair. You were a kid—you should’ve been able to enjoy things without feeling guilty or controlled.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, soothing the ache of memories long buried but never forgotten.

“When I was younger,” you continued, your voice quieter now, “I remember seeing a bracelet I loved at a little shop in town. I’d saved up enough from babysitting to buy it, but my mom…” You trailed off, biting your lip as the memory surfaced. “She told me I was wasting my money. That it was stupid to spend money on something so ‘useless.’ I ended up putting it back.”

Aaron’s hand tightened around yours. “I’m sorry,” he said simply, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “No one should have taken that from you.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to push back the tears. “It’s just a necklace,” you said, almost to yourself, as if you were trying to convince the little girl inside you.

Aaron turned you gently to face him, his eyes meeting yours. “It’s not just a necklace,” he said. “It’s a step. It’s a way of saying, ‘I can have nice things because I want them, and I deserve them.’ And I’ll be right here, helping you take those steps, no matter how long it takes.”

With his encouragement, you finally let yourself pick up the necklace. It felt weightless in your hands, yet the act of holding it carried so much significance. When Aaron handed it to the cashier, you didn’t protest. And when he fastened it around your neck in the car, his fingers brushing your skin, you felt something shift inside you—a small crack in the wall of guilt and control that had defined so much of your life.

As the two of you drove home, your fingers absentmindedly played with the pendant, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Aaron glanced over at you, his eyes soft and full of love. “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated before answering, your voice quiet but steady. “I was just thinking… that little girl I used to be? I think she’d be happy. She’d see this and know it’s possible to feel free someday.”

Aaron reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “She’d be proud of you,” he said. “And I am too.”

For the first time in years, you felt that maybe, just maybe, you were finally stepping into a life that was truly yours.

[mywhisperingwords]

lost mail | fred g. weasley

summary: after a bad break up you try to get rid of the memories, instead you find something that turns your life upside down word count: 4.3k masterlist

You cannot remember why you chose to keep every little piece of your life.

That was the only thought in your mind while you went through every box you kept in your attic. And every box came with the memories.

You couldn’t decide if you were grateful for it or if you hated it.

At the front of the attic were the newest memories you have kept, the ones who were involving the one person you were trying to forget.

The person who was at fault in the first place for you being up here and going through every box.

It hadn’t even been a week since the person you truly loved at one point told you that they were moving on, packing up their bags and that there was no space for you in those plans.

You were lying if you said you weren’t hurt, but you knew that you should be more devastated by this. Deep down you already knew that that ending was inevitable. And maybe you had made peace with that a long time ago.

And if you were truly honest with yourself, maybe you never really loved that person at all. How could you love a person that never truly saw you?

Giving yourself up and everything you stood for just to not be alone? You were foolish to believe that it could work.

You decided to make a clean cut. And that involved getting rid of the boxes that kept pieces of the memories you wanted to forget.

But once you started going down the memory lane, you couldn’t stop.

In every box were pieces of people you had not seen in a lifetime, at least that’s what it felt like to you.

These boxes had hidden secrets in them, ones you almost forgot but never really could. Like the coin that used to be your lucky charm, the one you would always carry around.

The castle was quiet at this time of night.

Not a soul around, just you and the moon.

You weren’t the kind of person who could easily break the rules, but at nights where you couldn’t sleep the only thing to help was to take a walk around the deserted hallways.

Never before have you been caught, but luck didn’t seem to be on your side tonight.

The sudden sound of footsteps made you stop in your tracks and with them came the one and only Fred Weasley.

He ran right past you, straight into the empty classroom behind you.

Before you could process that, Snape was in front of you.

“What are you doing wandering this castle at night?” he asked you, hair a mess and just a tad out of breath. He had been seemingly chasing after Fred.

“I was just thirsty,” you lied straight through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Snape on the other hand did not look impressed with your lie, but he seemed to have more important matters to tend to. “This is of no interest to me. Have you noticed someone running this way?”

“Have you lost someone, Professor?” you joked, immediate regret following with the way Snape looked at you. “I did, he ran that way,” you said, pointing in the opposite direction.

“If I ever see you again wandering the castle at night or see you misstep in any way, you will have detention for the rest of the school year. Also ten points lost. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” you replied, no longer finding joy in this situation.

Snape turned around before the words left your mouth, having no use for you anymore.

After he was out of sight, you knocked softly on the door of the classroom Fred was in. “You can come out, he’s gone,” you said in a hushed tone.

The door opened with caution, and you were looking at the grinning face of the red head. “Well, hello there and thank you from the bottom of my heart, love,” he said, sending you a wink that made your eyes roll.

“I think you owe me one,” you told him, taking a step back so he could step out of the room.

“Oh, I’d do anything for you,” he agreed, his grin widening even more if that was even possible.

“A normal person would offer money or something,” you hushed, with flushed cheeks. Never before have you been at the receiving end of the Weasley charm.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I do have…,” he rummaged through his pockets, fishing out one coin of a currency you did not recognize, “I have that.”

He offered it up to you, but you pushed his hand back to him, saying “I was only joking.”

“Maybe, but I’m not,” he said before taking your hand and placing the coin in it, closing your hand around it.

The brush of his hand was gone in a second, but something about it settled into your skin, a warmth you couldn’t shake even as you put the coin in your pocket.

“It’s my lucky charm, so you better keep it safe,” he said in mock seriousness, before turning around and walking away.

“I’ll try my best, Weasley,” you murmured as you watched him go.

You closed your fist around the coin, imaging that it still carried the warmth of Fred, but it did not. It was cold in your hand, leaving you feeling guilty when you remembered that you hadn’t been around at the shop as much as you used to.

It wasn’t that you had ignored him intentionally—you’d just been caught up in work and your relationship.

The same relationship Fred had disapproved of from the beginning. But you were determined to make it work, because that’s the kind of person you were.

You took crumbs of love and affection and tried to turn them into something more, desperately holding onto someone who did not even look back as they left.

Fred knew you better than anyone, and he’d told you this wasn’t right for you. But he’d respected your decision.

Still, it had put a strain on your friendship. Now, you felt a sudden urge to go and apologize, to make things right. But you didn’t—you were too much of a coward to admit you’d been wrong, especially so soon after the breakup.

You always used to be like that when it came to arguments, even if you knew deep down you were wrong, you still carried on. Maybe it was because you were telling yourself that sometimes it was better for everyone if you just ignored the truth—a tendency you also had when it came to other things.

“Why can’t you just admit you were wrong?” Fred asked, shaking with laughter.

You crossed your arms, turning your head to the side, trying to stifle a smile. “Because I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” he insisted, tugging on your arm like a child begging for sweets. “Just admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it.”

You kept your mouth shut, unwilling to give in. But despite yourself, you couldn’t help smiling at his antics.

“There it is!” he crowed in victory, as though your smile was all he’d been after.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” you said, no longer able to hold back a laugh.

He gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his heart. “You wound me.” Dropping down beside you, he put on his saddest face. “I’m leaving soon, and all you can do is insult me. How terrible of you.”

You shook your head, though his words struck a pang in your chest.

It was true. In less than a month, Hogwarts would no longer echo with the laughter of Fred and George. They would leave to open their shop and leave everything—including you—behind.

This was Fred’s dream, and you supported him wholeheartedly, but the ache of his coming departure had settled inside you and refused to go away. You knew it would linger, long after he was gone.

“Don’t remind me. It won’t be long now,” you muttered, a grimace on your face.

He nudged you gently, offering a smile of his own. “Don’t be sad. Once you graduate, you can come work for me and George. You could even move in with us.”

A chuckle escaped your lips. “Where? In your room?” You knew their flat above the shop only had two bedrooms.

“I wouldn’t say no,” he winked at you.

All you could do was stare at him, needing a moment to process his words.

The idea of moving in with Fred warmed your cheeks, and your mind couldn’t help wandering to the idea of a life together.

But that’s all it was—a fantasy.

“Very funny, you git,” you laughed, trying to defuse the tension that had appeared for just a moment. Moments like these seemed to happen more often lately.

There were times when Fred said something that could have meant more, only for you to turn it into a joke. It was easier that way—or at least, that’s what you told yourself to not have your heart be broken by false hope. Because this was Fred, he was just joking around, nothing more. That’s just what he did.

Fred took the lifeline you threw him, laughing along before saying, “I’m not the one who said Chocoballs are better than Jelly Slugs.”

And just like that, your old argument started up again.

Maybe in a few weeks, you’d be ready to face Fred. For now, you kept sifting through memories in the quiet of the attic, where the evening sun cast a warm glow.

There were so many pictures and keepsakes from the past few years, and looking at them now, a sense of dread washed over you. Years spent giving your love to someone who had never deserved it.

One box was filled with old parchments, overflowing with thoughts—a diary of your mind. It was a habit you had given up soon after meeting your ex, who never understood its importance. Not like someone else, someone special.

In another box, you stumbled upon an old photo from your days at Hogwarts, familiar faces you hadn’t seen in ages smiling back at you. Underneath it lay another photo, this one taken by an unknown person—a candid shot of you and Fred. You still remembered the day it was taken.

Sitting by the Great Lake in your favorite hidden spot, you couldn’t put your quill down. So many thoughts were swirling around your head that you needed to pour them all out.

That’s how Fred found you.

“Slow down, you might set the paper on fire,” he teased, a smile on his face. You jumped at the sound of his voice, not having noticed his arrival.

“Merlin, you scared me,” you sighed, looking up at him. His hair was disheveled, the top buttons of his shirt were undone, and his tie was slung over his shoulders.

Before you could ask what happened, he settled next to you on the stone, asking curiously, “What are you writing, anyway?”

“Anything and everything,” you told him earnestly.

“Huh?”

“I’m writing down every thought I have—it makes it easier to sort through the mess,” you explained, looking out at the water, a little nervous about his reaction to your strange habit.

You did not dare tell him that most of these thoughts involved him.

But his answer surprised you. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you?”

You turned to him, confusion written on your face.

Fred scratched the back of his head, his tone softer. “I mean… I get it. I’ve got a million things going on in my head all the time. Putting them down isn’t a bad idea.”

You hummed, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe you should take my advice, then,” you said with a wink.

That made him laugh. “Maybe I should.”

A comfortable silence settled over you before you quietly confessed, “It’s also the only way to make my mind go quiet.”

Fred didn’t answer right away; instead, he stared out at the lake, watching the afternoon sun dance on the water.

But you were watching him, admiring the way his brows knitted and his lips—just the perfect shade of pink—pursed in thought. That look of quiet concentration made him more handsome than ever.

The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like the perfect expression of the connection you shared: the way you could sit together for hours without speaking a single word and still feel content.

When Fred finally spoke again, you nearly missed it. “I have you for that.”

You didn’t even remember seeing anyone there with a camera, but you were grateful now for the photo they’d captured of you and Fred. Those were the moments you cherished most.

Beside the picture lay a stack of your old schoolbooks. As you picked up Advanced Potion-Making, a small note slipped out and fluttered to the floor. Your name was written on it in familiar handwriting, though you couldn’t recall what it was.

With a sense of curiosity mixed with something heavier, you unfolded the paper, revealing a handwritten letter addressed to you.

May 1996

My love,

you’re surly wondering why I’m writing you a letter but I was told by someone special that sometimes putting words on paper was the only way to sort though the mess in your mind, and that mess has been there ever since the day I met you.

I know that this is sudden but also not…

There has always been something between us, ever since I first saw you in that hallway when I was running away from Snape.

Ever since that night I couldn’t get you out of my head to the point George wanted to kick me out of our room, because all I was talking about was you.

I've been carrying this secret for a while now. I kept telling myself it would fade or that maybe it was just a momentary feeling. But here I am, still reeling from it every time I see you smile, or when your hand brushes against mine. It's as if my heart can't help but leap toward you, even though you're already so close.

I have known you now for so long and you’re still all I think about.

I don't think I tried to fall in love with you, yet here I am, helplessly yours in every way that matters.

Even if all we ever are is friends, l'll still be grateful to have you in my life. If there's even the smallest part of you that feels the same... then I want you to know that l'll be here, waiting.

I’m leaving tomorrow, I know that this is sudden and might be already too late or maybe this is the perfect moment.

Maybe in a year, after you graduate, you will be working with me and George, share a room with me, like we talked about and make me the happiest person every day just by being with me—in any way you want.

Anyways, I’m waiting for you at our spot.

Don’t leave me hanging.

Yours, always,

Freddie

You never knew.

Tears had fallen onto the letter, and you hadn’t even realized you were crying.

All these years, and you’d never known about this letter.

All these years, and you’d never given Fred an answer.

What must he have thought? That you ignored him? That you didn’t feel the same? That you’d simply left him waiting alone in your spot?

Your throat tightened, and your heartbeat quickened. With trembling hands, you read the letter again. And then again. Making sure that the words were real, not some figment of your imagination.

He had to watch you fall in love with someone else.

That thought shattered you. Pressing a hand to your chest, you tried to contain the pain spreading through you, tightening around your heart.

With shaky legs, you stood, clutching the letter tightly, and walked away.

&

You found yourself in Diagon Alley, moving toward a place you hadn’t visited in ages. You weren’t sure how you’d ended up here—you only knew you had to come.

The shop was dark, already closed, but the door was unlocked, left open until they finished their work in the back. An old habit, one you knew well.

Because you knew Fred.

He had been the one constant in your life, someone you’d always loved, though you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t meant to be, forcing yourself to move on.

But the letter in your hand told you how wrong you had been.

Rounding the counter, you found the office. A soft orange glow seeped out from under the door, accompanied by the faint scratch of quill on parchment.

You hadn’t planned what to say—all you had was the letter, clutched tightly in your hand. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open.

“George, I told you—” Fred began, looking up from his papers. His brows furrowed as he took in your disheveled hair and red eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t know,” you whispered, stepping further into the office. The familiar scents of smoke and cider surrounded you, grounding you.

“What?” His voice was gentle, but cautious.

“I didn’t know you loved me,” you replied, holding up the letter.

You saw realization dawn on his face, the moment he understood what you were holding. He shot up from his chair, his breath shaky, though he didn’t speak.

“I just found it, and I—I didn’t know,” you repeated, needing him to understand.

You needed him to know that you never meant to cause him pain—that you had never intended to leave him waiting alone by your spot at the Great Lake.

Tears blurred your vision as you repeated the same words, over and over, like a mantra: “I didn’t know.” They were all you could cling to as you trembled, heart pounding, unraveling in front of him.

Only when you felt Fred’s strong arms enfold you did the world seem to steady, his soft whispers reaching you through the haze. “It’s okay,” he murmured, “shh…it’s okay.”

You pressed your face into his chest, clutching his shirt as the letter crumpled in your hand. His voice anchored you, each word a lifeline as you soaked his shirt with your tears. Every emotion crashed over you at once. Regret, anger, grief and fear.

Fred never stopped murmuring reassurances, nor did he release you from his embrace. Only when your sobs quieted did he gently ease you back, his gaze searching yours. “We should talk,” he said softly.

And that’s how you found yourself curled up beside him on a small, well-worn sofa in his living room, a cup of tea warming your hands. The letter lay on the table before you, a tangible reminder of the conversation he’d been waiting years to have.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The silence felt heavy, filled with everything you needed to say but didn’t know how to begin.

At last, you broke it, voice barely above a whisper. “We broke up.”

If Fred was surprised, he didn’t show it, merely nodding, acknowledging your words with quiet understanding.

He sat beside you, though with a safe, careful distance—as if he feared getting too close too soon.

“It never would’ve worked, you were right.” You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, studying his familiar face, still as warm as you remembered. “I think I was trying to turn nothing into something more. Trying to make it work, because that’s just what I do.”

He looked down, fidgeting with his long fingers, a habit you’d always known. He didn’t look at you, but somehow you felt his attention, unwavering.

“I don’t know if I loved-,” you cut yourself off. “I just had to move on from you, that’s all I knew,” you confessed quietly, feeling shame. “When I was cleaning out old things, I found all these memories… I found this.” You pointed to the letter on the table, the heart of it all.

You took a deep breath, preparing for the hardest part of all. “I never saw it before, and when I read it…” You laughed, a sad, soft sound. “It was everything I ever wanted. And I didn’t even know I could’ve had it.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you whispered, “If only I’d known… I would’ve been there. I would’ve done anything. You must have thought I was heartless. You must have hated me.”

Fred’s voice was soft when he replied, “I could never hate you.” He set his tea aside, finally meeting your gaze with an intensity that made your heart stutter. “I assumed you just… didn’t feel the same. That maybe it was too hard to tell me that to my face. But I never hated you, not for one moment.”

You shook your head, needing him to understand. “If I had known—”

But Fred shook his head, stopping you. “In time, I accepted that loving you from afar was all I could do, and I knew that keeping even a small part of you was better than losing you entirely.”

The weight of his words sank in, each syllable touching something deep within you. Could he still love you, after all this time? The thought was terrifying and exhilarating, both the possibility of an answer and the risk of rejection. But there was a way to show him how you felt, one you’d kept close for years. Reaching into your pocket, you took out the coin he had given you so long ago.

A spark of hope glimmered in Fred’s eyes as he took it in, the recognition softening his features. “You kept this? After all these years?”

“You told me not to lose it,” you replied, your voice tender with a hint of a smile.

He took the coin from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours, leaving a familiar warmth that seemed to linger in the space between you.

“But you never were a very good listener,” Fred teased, his familiar grin reappearing for the first time that evening, making your heart flutter. In that moment, you saw not just the man sitting beside you, but the boy you had fallen for so many years ago.

Though it had been months, maybe years, since you’d spent time together as you should have, he still felt like home.

His soft brown eyes, the faint crinkles at their corners, the freckles scattered across his face like constellations, and his flaming-red hair, now grown longer—he was so much the boy you’d once known, and yet now a man, shaped by life and loss, sitting close enough to touch.

“What happens now?” you asked, voice quiet, as if afraid to disturb the fragile peace of this moment. But you needed to know. This was new and terrifying, and all you wanted was for him to take your hand and assure you everything would be alright.

“Whatever you want,” he replied simply.

But what you wanted wasn’t simple at all. You wanted him in every way you’d ever dreamed, to be by his side and share in his life. You wanted him to hold you as you mourned the years lost to another, yet you couldn’t find the words to ask it of him.

Fred understood, as he always did. “If you want to be with me, we’ll make it work. And if you need time, I’ll give you that.” He gently took your hand in his, his touch a silent promise. “I’ve waited years. I can wait a little longer.”

“I don’t want to wait,” you assured him immediately, your voice filled with the weight of all the years you had spent denying yourself this truth.

You could feel the shift in him, a warmth filling his gaze, his smile softening. Slowly, he leaned closer. “Are you sure?”

His voice sent shivers down your spine, his breath warm against your cheek. But your answer came without hesitation.

“About you? Always,” you whispered.

And that was when his lips met yours, a kiss so tender it felt like a wish made real, warm and gentle, a thousand memories woven into one perfect moment. His hand cupped your cheek, grounding you as you melted into him, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

His lips tasted of tea and something indescribably sweet, like warmth and comfort, like every dream you’d ever had of him. It was soft, unhurried, the years of yearning unfolding as his fingers brushed your skin, leaving a trail of warmth that you felt in every part of you.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, a mischievous grin lighting up his face as he whispered, “Took you long enough, didn’t it?”

All you could do was laugh, nudging him away before pulling him back in, savoring the warmth you’d both waited too long to feel.

Fred’s gaze fell on the letter lying on the table, the edges worn and softened from years of waiting. He ran his thumb over your hand, murmuring, “Funny how one piece of parchment kept us apart.”

You looked at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Guess it was just waiting for the right time.”

[blueberri-blu]

(Oop my shi sent before I even put the request 🙂)

Anyway....

So I had a request for Rise Donnie where it's like valentines day and reader is on their computer and then they get a notification that says their computer has been hacked then they hot the "ok" button and then it just says "i just have one question for you" then we click the "ok" button again and it says "will you be my valentines? " and then a yes and no button and every time you click the no button it jus says "please? "

Thanks!

Feel free to ignore!

And have a good day/night/afternoon/ morning or whenever you see this!

Omg! Don't worry ^^

I absolutely love this idea (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾) My heart just... Fluttered, And I am so down bad for Rise Donnie (I have way too many fan Edits of him)

Please? 人.⁠·⁠´

[rise]Donnie x g/n reader

~ Oneshot, Fluff

人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´

The sun had fallen, leaving only the moon's soft light. You almost couldn't tell that tomorrow was Valentine's Day.

Since you had no significant other, you planned on just playing games on your computer. You had hoped for a certain purple clad turtle to be with you on Valentine's Day

But since he had yet to ask, you ultimately lost hope.

As you woke up the next morning, you did your morning routine, brushing your teeth, washing your face

Sitting down in your chair in front of you computer, your fluffiest blanket on your shoulders, wearing you comfiest pajamas

Turning on your computer, your mouse already near where to click for your game

A glitch dawned your screen

"Your computer has been hacked" with the only option being a button that said ok

After pressing it, a question you never thought would be directed at you, popped up

"Will you be my Valentine?" With two buttons: Yes and No

At first you clicked no, because what kind of creep would hack your computer and ask you this?

By pressing no, another one showed up saying "Sigh, please?"

There was only one person turtle you knew that verbally expressed these sorts of things

So, you pressed yes

And confetti showed up on your screen, and a video of Donnie dancing showed up

At the sight of this, you immediately went down to the lair

You walked to the lab with purpose, and upon entering, you saw Donnie, happily squealing and dancing

You chuckled to yourself, then said "chuckle, You're so cute Don" Donnie whipped around, a bit stunned that you were there

"oh, ahem, my apologies, y/n, I was nearly... Celebrating"

"Celebrating what exactly" you said with a smirk

"cough, uhm well you see, on this strange holiday, most dumdumbs would take their s/o out for dinner. However! Our celebration shall last all day!"

"oh! So I'm your significant other?"

You could tell he was holding back a blush, trying not to blow his bad boy facade

"Well... I wouldn't be against the idea, that is if you aren't" he was softer, gauging your reaction, looking for any sign of discomfort

"I would love to Don" you two closed the space, he put his hands out, as if to grab you by the waist, but stopped and looked at you "is this satisfactory?"

You giggled, realizing his nervous brain was looking for data to collect

"actually, I am extremely satisfied" he relaxed, allowing his hands to pull you close, and softly kissed you, marking the beginning of your relationship

人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´人.⁠·⁠´

I hope you liked it! I tried to get it done as soon as possible >~<

I really appreciate your request! Let me know if you'd like another Oneshot of just what Donnie planned for Valentine's Day!

[fallenbutterfly-nemesis]

Die with a smile

Ichigo x reader

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale silver glow over Karakura Town. The streets below were quiet, save for the occasional breeze stirring the leaves. You sat on the edge of the rooftop, your legs dangling over the side, the cold seeping through your jeans. In your hand, your phone played a song on repeat—*Die With a Smile.* The lyrics resonated deeply, stirring something in your chest that you couldn’t quite put into words.

Then, as always, you felt him before you saw him.

That familiar presence, like a flame that refused to be snuffed out, grew stronger as Ichigo Kurosaki appeared behind you. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there with his hands in his pockets, watching you. It wasn’t until you turned to glance at him that he moved, walking over to sit beside you.

"You’re out late," he said, his voice low but warm.

"You’re one to talk," you replied, smirking. "I bet you just got back from fighting Hollows."

Ichigo shrugged, his orange hair catching the moonlight. "Maybe. What about you? Shouldn’t you be inside, sleeping or something?"

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "Couldn’t sleep. Too much on my mind."

He nodded, as if he understood. With Ichigo, you never had to explain yourself too much—he always seemed to get it. That was one of the things you loved about him.

The song on your phone continued to play, the lyrics drifting into the night air.

*"If this is the end, let’s go out laughing. Hold me close, and I won’t be afraid."*

Ichigo’s gaze shifted to your phone. "That song... kind of depressing, don’t you think?"

You laughed, the sound light despite the weight in your heart. "It’s not depressing. It’s... honest. It’s about making the most of the time you have, even if it’s not much."

He raised an eyebrow, his expression thoughtful. "I guess I can see that."

Silence fell between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It never was with Ichigo. The two of you often found solace in the quiet, the kind of understanding that didn’t need words.

Still, tonight felt different. The air was heavy, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming—something big.

"You ever think about how fragile everything is?" you asked suddenly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ichigo turned to look at you, his brown eyes serious. "All the time."

You bit your lip, hesitating before continuing. "It’s just... moments like this. They feel like they’ll last forever, but they don’t. And that scares me."

He frowned, his gaze softening. "Yeah. But maybe that’s what makes them matter so much. Because they don’t last."

His words settled over you like a blanket, comforting but bittersweet. You looked at him, really looked at him, and your chest ached. How many times had you watched him throw himself into danger without a second thought? How many times had you worried that one day, he wouldn’t come back?

"Y/N," he said suddenly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

You turned to him, surprised by the intensity in his gaze. "What is it?"

He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. "If something ever happens to me—"

"Don’t," you cut him off, shaking your head. "Don’t say that."

"But I have to," he insisted, leaning closer. "I need you to know that no matter what, I’ll always protect you. Even if it’s the last thing I do."

Your throat tightened, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak. You wanted to tell him to stop, to promise you that he’d be the one who made it through no matter what, but you knew better. This was Ichigo. Protecting others was who he was.

"I know," you whispered finally. "But if something does happen... promise me you won’t regret anything. Promise me you’ll go out smiling."

He stared at you, his expression unreadable, before a small smile tugged at his lips. "Only if you promise me the same."

You nodded, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Deal."

*"The stars will fade, but this love we’ve made will never die."*

The song’s final chorus played softly in the background as Ichigo stood, holding out a hand to you. Without hesitation, you took it, letting him pull you to your feet. The two of you stood there on the rooftop, the world spread out before you, as if it belonged only to you.

"Come on," he said, his voice lighter now. "Let’s get you inside before you catch a cold."

You laughed, wiping at your eyes. "What about you? Don’t you have another Hollow to fight?"

"Not tonight," he replied, giving you a rare, genuine smile. "Tonight, I’m staying right here."

And for the first time in a long time, you felt at peace.

Whatever battles lay ahead, whatever endings might come, you knew one thing for certain: as long as you had Ichigo by your side, you could face anything.

Even the end.

---

Mb for being MIA ive been dealing with schoo and stuff

[skimmingmilk]

i've just found out your tumblr has even MORe picket fence writing and im over the moon?? But also my heart was shattered with the back in time wip 😭😭😭 how does sonic find the strength to leave baby tails behind, how does he react when he sees tails again in his own timeline after having met sick abandoned baby tails??

Heheheh, yeah, there are some little fics or scenes I've written that I hesitate to put on AO3 sometimes (or just aren't complete enough to be a story on their own), so I like to throw them at Tumblr from time to time. Glad you found them! :D

Ohh, the back in time WIP... Not sure how much I can give away because of the chance that it's going to end up part of a bigger fic... but it'll still be a long while until I get around to posting that xD Maybe people will forget lol.

Potential future spoilers under the cut?

So! The way I see it playing out is that Sonic is going to find it in him to leave baby Tails behind because he knows they'll cross paths one day, the way they're supposed to and everything will play out from there. He knows he can't stay in the past and he can't take baby Tails to his present. Plus, Silver's with him and it probably wouldn't go over well to try and explain why it'd be a good idea to take baby Tails with him when it would negate pretty much everything Sonic and Tails experienced together since meeting on West Side Island or cause a split in the timeline where now there's a universe where Sonic never got to meet Tails because he wasn't there and now Sonic's time with have two Tailses. He knows that it can't happen.

But... Sonic still can't stop wondering about the little guy. Is he cold? Is he scared? Is he getting enough to eat? Is he lonely? Hurt? All the things he's not letting himself think about when it comes to his Tails (the 10 year old who's on his first solo adventure and basically gone as close to no contact as possible in order to "prove himself"). He projects all that onto the baby version of him because he knows Tails can handle himself (and that's not why he's worried about him, what he's uncomfortable with is the motive behind the journey). So he gets his hands on two Chaos Emeralds and goes back to check on baby Tails by himself. Just this once.

Except it doesn't end up being just once. Because there is this disconnect and distance between Sonic and Tails of the present, doubts that have arisen in the wake of Forces, Frontiers, and now Tails's absence, Sonic's drawn more and more to the past. Baby Tails smiles and laughs and he doesn't pull away from him and he likes to play and explore and he still needs him. It's just so easy for Sonic to make him feel better. Just by being there.

Also, because this is after Frontiers, going through cyberspace and the cyber corruption has opened the gates to Sonic's memories a bit and they're kind of leaking into his thoughts more and more. He's falling into the habit of ruminating, reliving moments and questioning choices he made, things he might've done wrong, could've done better. So that maybe Tails wouldn't feel like he needs to become a completely different person.

Present Tails won't listen to him, but baby Tails hangs onto every word. So maybe by being there... Tails might remember being loved and maybe the 10 year old won't only see the worst parts of himself when he looks in the mirror if Sonic can try again and show the younger version that he's worth something just as he is.

I think Sonic crosses paths with present Tails twice during all of this. The first conversation goes okay, but there's an awkwardness to it. But Sonic does try to make an effort to be more open with Tails in the hopes that maybe it will set a better example. And Tails is surprisingly receptive to it. So Sonic resolves to not go back to the past, because Tails seems to be doing okay after all. And he's reminded that he loves who his little brother is now. The good and the bad made him who he is, and would he really want to change that? Of course not!

Unfortunately, the second conversation doesn't go nearly as well...

So Sonic goes back to see baby Tails in the wake of it - not because he needs it, but because Tails clearly does - but when he arrives, the forest is burning and he can't find Tails anywhere...

[ehhlien]

Somewhere online I read a post that said "Lestat topped Louis and now Louis tops Armand" and I really didn't think too deeply about it; I don't think about things like that much. But also I felt like "mhmm.. Armand seems to exert so much power over Louis, I'm not seeing it". But then Armand was so vulnerable in this episode, and you could see how much he yearns for the love of someone who is eternally occupied by someone else, whether or not he knows it, and he later refers to Louis as 'maître' and now I do in fact believe it.

[dapurinthos]

sifo: we should pick a bland code name to use instead of sith. something greatly disliked so it would make sense that we're complaining about it. ari: dairy. milkmen. lactose. sifo: right. i call this meeting of the dairy defamation d ... can't think of a word. ari: dominion. division.

~planning the serenno arc chapters means i get to seed things now like the 'can clearly see that it is the depression when looking back, but not at the time' bits, like at the perlemian orbital facility gathering~

“I don't know,” I burst out, then flip my hood up over my head. If I can’t see them, they can’t see me. Everything feels wrong. A weight has fastened itself to me, a set of armour that impedes instead of protects. There's a shrieking, out-of-tune viol where the pegs have been twisted so far around that the strings are ready to snap like the negative reinforcement of an elastic band against my wrist each time a thought I don't want surfaces. He looks around and leads me off to the side, just beyond the entrance of a hallway that leads to the off-limits part of the station. It’s lined with fancy chairs that look more like sugar confections atop a cake than actual furniture. Master Si pulls one of the chairs over and sits in it, leaning forward until his head is on the same level as mine. “Hey, it's okay.” “No, it's not.” My throat constricts. “Then we'll make it okay, all right? Come here, breathe with me.” He cups my elbows and I rest my hands on the inside of his forearms, on the bracers he wears to keep his sleeves out of the way. They are more decorative than utilitarian, with elasticized lacing up the inside where the fabric of his sleeves bunches up. I clear my throat thrice and blink rapidly to clear my eyes. In for the count of three, hold for the count of seven, and then out for five. Again. And again. It takes a few more rounds than usual until the shrieking becomes more of a background hum. Still there, but quieted enough until it can be properly dealt with later. “Want a hug?” “Lean.” “No, I'm Sifo-Dyas,” he says like it's the pinnacle of wit, but straightens up in the chair so I can lean into his side. I swat his leg with the back of my hand like I've spotted a mosquito there. After a moment, I speak. “Come on, there are milkmen to stick pins into.” “Picked a particular poking pin?” “Illegitimacy of all milkmen claiming the title after the moon landing.”

[nyxi-pixie]

the most important thing abt noah coming out is that the people going 'hehe how does our fav strAIGHT frat boy play that fucking gayass so well??😱😱' had to stfu😁👍

[karcin9gen]

i. am thinking about tom tonight

[awxcoffeexno]

ain't gon' ever deserve you

mutant!loganhowlett x human!reader one shot

fic masterlist | nsfw claw worship

summary: logan has a nightmare and hurts you by accident - or - the one where you worship his claws the way they deserve.

content: mostly family-friendly claw worship. logan believes in the animal accusations but reader fixes it. reader is human, logan and reader have an established and v loving relationship, lots of reassurance and comforting for logan.

warnings: logan has nightmares, mentions of blood, logan self-hate, family-friendly knife play??????.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: listen, claw worship has been on my mind for a looooooong time. I'm too chicken to put up any of my nsfw writing yet so here's an sfw version with affirmations for poor baby lo-lo. also this is super inspired by logan and kayla's relationship and even uses some quotes from them.

you're deep asleep, dreaming of everything and nothing when you feel the sudden sharp sting in your arm.

eyes flying open, you open your mouth to hiss in pain but logan's lips are at your ear, snarling and grunting in his sleep again.

you look down to find his claws out, the metal tips digging into your arm. you exhale sharply, watching the warm blood seep down your arm and onto the new white sheets.

"no! n– no!" he growls, and you're forced to bite your lip as you try to pull away from his vice grip. when that doesn't work, you sink your nails into his arm.

"logan–"

"victor, NO!" he screams and sits up, yanking his claws from your arm and stabbing at the air in front of him.

victor creed. logan's brother and the bane of his existence. victor who haunts his dreams every single night, victor whose name you can never forget, victor who is now the reason logan's hurt you.

you sit up with him, aching for him, wrapping your arms around his torso. the burning pain in your arm an afterthought, you hear him swallow and gently let out a breath. he's sticky with sweat and the dry radiator air in the room isn't helping, the moon glowing through your glass walls, creating a halo around his head.

"nightmare." you state, letting him catch his breath and take in his surroundings.

he nods even though what you said wasn't a question but a statement. he twists around and pulls you into his lap, hugging you like he does near every night – chin tucked into your shoulder, arms wrapped all the way around your torso. he smells of soap and cigar smoke and the faintest hint of your shampoo. you smile to yourself and press a kiss to his hair.

"you're so cute." you mutter and a small smile spreads across his lips.

"cute?" he repeats, amused. "that's new." he pulls you closer, further down his lap and you can feel his heartbeat start to steady again.

"you used my shampoo again, and don't you deny it this time."

he scowls at you but lets you kiss him anyway. "reminds me of you," he sighs when he realises you won't stop until he admits it.

"but i'm right here," you giggle, running your thumb over the shell of his ear.

he opens his mouth to explain further but that's when he smells it. the blood he's drawn from your arm in his nightmare-fuelled anger at victor. his jaw tightens as he looks for the source of blood, finding three uniform slices on the outside of your forearm.

"no," he gasps, a thousand emotions crossing his eyes.

you try to wiggle your arm out of his grip, the blood running down your arm now. "hey... i'm okay."

"like fuck you are," he snarls, angry at himself.

how could he have possibly hurt you?! was this a thing now?? was he a danger to you even in his sleep?! god, he'll have to put you to sleep and then figure out a way to declaw himself. maybe if he just slices the back of his palms open–

"james..." you break him out of his thoughts, hand on his cheek. "baby, i'm okay. really. it looks worse than it feels."

"i'm going to rip these out." he whispers, holding his fists up, the back of his palms facing you. his words are as much a promise to you as a command to himself.

you grab his fists and glare at him. he blinks at your expression, looking at you over his hands.

"don't you dare say anything of the sort. these are a gift."

"a gift," he scoffs, "you can return a gift."

"these are a gift," you repeat sternly. "and i will not let you do anything to them."

he opens his mouth to protest but you aren't done. how dare he even think of hurting himself, of declawing himself when you love his claws as much as you love every last part of him.

you run your fingers over the back of his palms and whisper, "take them out."

"sweetheart..."

"take them out, my love" you repeat, kissing his knuckles because you know it hurts every time he does.

he carefully and very very slowly bares them and you look at him from between the blades.

not breaking eye contact, you lean in and press a soft kiss to the base of the middle claw on his right hand. you catch him shuddering and your eyes widen in surprise.

"you felt that?"

you can see him redden even in the dark. "'course i did," he grunts.

"what does it feel like?" you ask, fascinated. everyday you learn something new about him and it never fails to delight you.

you kiss the base of another claw on the other hand and see him inhale sharply.

he groans deeply, humming to come up with the right words. "like... you're stroking every nerve in me to life."

that makes you sit up on your haunches and wrap your fingers around his wrists. he freezes, bracing himself to yank the claws back in the second he thinks you might hurt yourself on the sharp ends. you carefully lick along the length of the claw between his pinky and ring finger on his right hand, making him exhale shakily.

"tryna kill me, sugar?" he says through gritted teeth, every muscle in his body tense.

"trying to show you how much i love your claws, lo. even if they hurt sometimes."

you loop your right hand between both of his, gently pressing the tip of your thumb against the sharp end of a claw. you run your finger up the blade, making him whine in protest as you draw blood.

his eyes implore you, pleading, but you simply take your hand up to his mouth, pressing your bleeding thumb against his lips. he relents, sucking it into his warm mouth and licking it clean.

"logan?" you whisper and he hums around your thumb.

despite the heat in your core, pooling between your legs, you need him to hear this. you'll have time to fulfil that need later.

"every part of you means everything to me. but your claws, especially your claws, have the most special place in my heart. they protect me. they make you feel good. and most of all, they're fucking cool."

and that finally makes him crack a smile again.

"y'think so?"

"mhmm."

"c'mere." he says finally, pulling his claws back in and tugging you back into his lap.

he makes you straddle him and kisses you warmly. he looks into your eyes with such fondness, it squeezes your heart. carefully he pulls his first claw out on his right hand and uses it to gently push your hair out of your eyes. your eyes flutter shut in response, leaning into his metal touch.

he brushes the back of the claw across your cheek and your lips part prettily for him. the air doesn't feel so thick anymore, the quiet humming of the refrigerator in the kitchen not overwhelming him the way it was when he snapped awake.

ever so carefully, pushing his own boundaries, he turns his wrist and pushes the flat of his claw onto your tongue. it's warm and tastes of him, salty and musky and like metal.

"that okay for you, pretty girl?" he mumbles and you can hear the strain in his voice. he's terrified but he so badly wants to be brave for you.

you wrap your lips around the claws and suck softly in response, drawing a groan of pleasure from him.

he shudders beneath you, every inch of him tense and trembling with restraint. you slide your tongue along the metal, tracing the edge of his claw with reverence, savoring the taste of him.

logan’s breath catches in his throat, and you feel the warmth of his exhale ghost across your face. his other hand, free of the adamantium blades, finds its way to your waist, gripping you tightly.

"god," he breathes out, voice rough and filled with a raw vulnerability you hear only at night. "you have no idea what you do to me."

you slowly release his claw from your mouth, letting it slide out with a deliberate slowness that has him biting back another groan. his eyes are locked on you, dark with need.

you reach up, cupping his face with your now clean thumb, and brush your lips against his in a featherlight kiss. "i think i do," you whisper against his mouth. "i want you to feel how much i love every part of you, logan. even the parts that scare you."

his claws retract with a soft snikt, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

"you're something else, darlin'," he murmurs into your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. you can feel the smile playing on his lips. "you make me feel... whole."

you nestle into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. "and you make me feel safe," you reply, closing your eyes and letting the furnace heart of his presence envelop you. "always."

you feel his grip tighten, his hand trembling slightly against your waist. he's always been the warrior, the weapon, the animal, but here in your arms, he's just logan, just a man who’s been through more pain than anyone should endure.

"people see the claws and think i’m nothing but a beast," he murmurs, his voice thick with self-doubt. "like i’m more metal than man. they look at me and all they see is the damage i can do."

you pull back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands framing his face. he tries to look away, but you won’t let him. you press a soft kiss to his brow, then his cheek, and finally, to the corner of his mouth.

"they don’t make you an animal," you whisper, your voice even and filled with conviction. "they make you strong. they’re not just weapons, they’re part of what makes you you."

his breath hitches at your words, and you feel him struggle against the years of conditioning, the years of being told that he’s nothing more than a killing machine. but you won’t let those words hold power over him anymore.

you reach down, gently taking his right hand in yours. with care, you press a kiss to each knuckle, feeling the warmth of his skin under your lips. then, you look up at him and slowly, deliberately, coax his claws out again.

you run your fingers lightly over the metal, tracing the curves and edges with the same care you’d give to a delicate piece of art.

logan watches you, his expression shifting from uncertainty to something deeper, something like awe. "you don’t see me like everyone else does," he says, almost to himself.

"no," you agree, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of one of his claws. "i see you, logan. the real you. and what i see is a man who’s fought for so long to protect the people he loves, even when it’s cost him everything. your claws, they’re not just about hurting or fighting. they’re about protecting. they’re about survival. and they’re about who you have been for so long."

his chest rises and falls with each breath, the tension slowly easing from his body as your words sink in. for once, he doesn’t feel like an animal. he feels like a man, just a man. and it's nice.

"besides," you say, tone lightening. "so you really think I'm such a baby i can't handle three little cuts?"

you both know you're underplaying it and though he would never admit it in the day, the moonlight across his face betrays his grateful expression. it's easier to believe that he hasn't hurt you too much when you're saying it yourself.

you lower his hand, resting it against your chest, over your heart.

he swallows hard, holding you as if he’s afraid to let go. "ain't gon' ever deserve you," he whispers, his voice thick.

"you deserve everything," you murmur back, holding him just as tightly. "and i’m going to keep reminding you of that, every day."

for a moment, he’s silent, just holding you close. then, in a voice that’s barely more than a whisper, he says, "you almost make me feel human, darlin’."

you pull back just enough to kiss him again, only because you know he'd much rather feel than hear. your kiss is slow and tender, letting him feel the truth in your touch.

he doesn’t say anything more, but the way he kisses you back, the way he holds you, tells you everything you need to know.

he'll be okay. you'll make him okay. you gently push him to lie down and rest your head on his chest.

you love him, you love how he wants so badly to believe you, and most of all, you fucking love his claws.

--

this stemmed from a very nsfw thought™ but here we are, all warm and fuzzy. a mostly non-angsty fic is new for me!!

hope you liked this x

love, d <3

--

edit: i wrote an nsfw claw worship fic too 🤠🤝🏽 >> unholy

[sonolynn]

Forbidden Fruit

summary | Jace didn't want her, but Aemond did.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

tags | 18+ MDNI, Jealously, Aemond yearning, explicit sexual content, mentions of bastards, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, size kink (?), oral f!receiving, Angst if you squint. "Technical" infidelity but is it really if Jace started it? (yes). ooc!Aemond (probably). NOT PROOF READ (its one am, leave me alone).

w.c | 3.8k

note(s) | My first smut fic!! Ah I'm scared...I also think I have a problem with making Aemond want fem!reader when he rightfully can't have her. Also I swear I'm not a Jace hater!! I love Jace, but in this fic specifically I made him long and wish for Baela.

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“Why don’t you marry her then?” 

Aegon’s voice was taunting, as if pushing Aemond to say something. Aemond stared down at the cup in front of him; even with a stoic expression, his mannerisms betrayed him. He tapped his finger against the edge of the cup, he picked at the skin around his nails on the opposite hand-all the tell tale signs of thinking, a mind that cannot be stopped. 

“Because she is betrothed to Rhaenyra’s bastard.” His voice dripped with malice as he spoke. Aemond hated that Jacerys would inherit the throne enough; What his bastard nephew didn’t need was the girl Aemond had wished for his entire life. Ever since the two of them were children Aemond had a…weird infatuation with her. When he was a boy, he would pick flowers from the garden and he would purposely do good deeds for her, just to have her hug him or smile graciously at him. 

But now, everything was different. She was a woman grown, and him a man grown. She was to be engaged to his bastard nephew, and he would have to sit and watch as they shared a kiss, held hands, smiled and danced as newlyweds. He’d have to hold a straight face as the two of them left to Jacerys’ bed chamber, only knowing the connotations that came with what would happen on their wedding night. 

Ignoring his brother's tedious rants about hells knows what, Aemond stood from his chair, opting for a walk in the gardens.

____________________________________________

Aemond walked, hands clasped behind his back, and his gaze drifted into nothingness as he walked with just his thoughts, and the cool breeze that accompanied the summer evenings. He tried to distract himself from the thoughts of her, for they were all almost too painful to ever truly think about. 

But he couldn’t help himself. He thought of her as a sickness, one that lingered and grew stronger by the day until it fully consumed your every waking moment. He thought of her laugh just as contagious as the plague, her eyes as intoxicating as the finest of wines. He thought her to be a type of sickness, and he so desperately wanted to be affected. 

Aemond was never one to smile-one to truly-smile, his half smirks or half smiles were only ever in a sarcastic sense, but for some reason his smiles were real with her. With her he laughed a little more, with her he walked a little faster. He knew it was stupid, perhaps perpetually idiotic-to ever think, let alone long for such a pure and innocent creature. 

As Aemond walked, he noticed her sitting by one of the fountains in the garden. She looked breathtaking, he thought to himself. Her hair was down and cascaded down her shoulders, her face was just the perfect amount of shaded with the moon's light. And above all, she held that intoxicating smile that she always held. He never knew why she was always smiling, nor did he wish to find out. 

She turned her head, her smile widening at the sight of Aemond. 

“Aemond!” Her voice was cheerful, slowly standing as he walked towards her. 

“Princess,” Aemond smiled-a half smile-at her as he looked around, then slowly back at her. “It’s quite late. Should you not be in your chambers?” 

She always thought the way he cared for her, even if he didn’t show it outright, was extremely enticing. She knew how he was with others, but she knew the differences he had with almost everyone in court-so what made her so different? Why her, the object of the second son's affection. 

“Perhaps I do not wish to sleep. Perhaps…I quite like the quietness of the garden.” She smiled innocently, looking back towards the fountain as she started to walk. Aemond knew her well enough to see that this was a quiet plea for him to join her; Because no matter how much she enjoyed the quietness of the garden, she enjoyed it much more when he was with her. 

Aemond stared at her, as he often did, but this time, it was different. The stare he held was nothing short of primal. He watched the light in her eyes as she smiled up at him and for some reason, now, he wished to watch as the innocent light in her eyes slowly dwindled as he claimed her. 

“Aemond? Is something wrong?” Her voice snapped his thoughts back, if only for a moment. She stopped walking to look up at him and she crossed her arms underneath her chest. His eye trailed down slowly, fixating on the way that her cleavage just slightly out of her dress. He was like a man starved; Clinging to the littlest of details that would make his imagination run wild. 

She seemed to notice the way that his eye raked over her chest like a starving man, and her face flushed with embarrassment. She-though subconsciously-reached up to place her arm over her chest, but to her surprise, Aemond gently took her hand, and when she looked up, his one sapphire eye was locked with hers. 

“You needn’t cover up. Not around me.” He spoke calmly, though his heart was racing and his head spinning. He let out a shaky breath as he lowered her hand and looked into her eyes. 

She watched him carefully, searching his gaze for anything that would betray him. In truth she didn’t know what she was searching for, but she felt as if she should be searching for something. 

Aemond lifted a hand, placing the back of his knuckles against her hot cheek. The gesture was gentle, and slow, something he was not known for. His eye slowly trailed down her face, and his eye caught on her lips, his breath heavy as he reached his hand up and gently placed his thumb over her plush bottom lip. 

Her eyes followed his, big, and full of longing. She stared at him as his thumb pushed against her lip. She didn’t know exactly what to do; She knew that this moment was intimate, far too intimate to be happening between a betrothed woman and a bachelor. But, the way he gazed at her made her feel hot, and the way he trailed his hand over her face and body made her want to see where this could lead. 

His free hand shakily went up to her waist, cupping it firmly as he brought her closer. He leaned forward, just slightly, till his nose was pressed against hers. Her breath hitched, and her eyes instinctively closed. She waited for him to press his lips against hers, to feel his mouth on hers like she had (shamefully) always wished for. But, it never came. 

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Aemond breathing heavily, desperately trying to restrain himself. He pulled away slightly, and he shook his head,

“I shouldn’t take advantage of you…not like this.” Though his words held conviction, it seemed his body betrayed him. His hand stayed on her waist, slowly trailing up and cupping her breast in his hand. She gasped softly at the feeling, and his thumb went to her lip again before he connected his lips to hers. She responded immediately, putting her hands on his arms. 

He kissed her like he was dying, his body subconsciously reacting more to the kiss then he’d wish it to. He pulled her flush against him, his strong hands coming to cup her face, his shoulders shrugging in a futile attempt to have her closer. He opened his mouth, causing her to gasp at the feeling of his tongue against hers. Her mouth moved with his as if it was known to her; As if this was a dance she had practiced for years to perfect, as if the dance of her lips was a song that Aemond had mastered just for her. 

She practically melted in his arms. She had been kissed before; Jace was a good kisser but he was soft, and the kisses were never not chaste. But, kissing Aemond was like walking through fire. Her entire body reacted to the way he clung to her body, how he pulled her impossibly closer. It was like a fire had escaped through his lips and was now coursing through her veins and settling in her abdomen. 

Even though she didn’t know exactly what to do, it seemed her body did. Her hands slid down his arms and slowly made their way to his chest as she moaned softly. 

The moan grounded him, like he had been falling from the heavens and down to earth. He suddenly pulled away, breathless as he stared down at her. Her eyes opened steadily, and she looked up at him with confusion while a frown graced her kiss swollen lips. 

“We shouldn’t have done that.” He spoke breathlessly, his hand still gently stroking her side. 

“Maybe not..but it felt good.” Gods, the way she spoke held him in a chokehold. He wished desperately to dive back into her; To drown in her lips and never come up for air, but.. 

“Not again. You are to be married.” He suddenly pulled away and at the feeling of his hands leaving her body, she frowned deeper. 

“Aemond-” “Goodnight, Princess.” 

And with that, the prince turned and rushed back into the keep. 

____________________________________________

Aemond couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in bed, picking at his nails, biting his lip-genuinely anything to help stop the incessant thoughts of her lips. 

The thoughts started off sweet and innocent. The way she looked up at him as he trailed his thumb over her lip, the way her lips pursed just slightly when he leaned forward. 

But then the thoughts got venereal fast. He thought about how he felt to finally kiss her. The way his lips practically burned when they pulled away. He knew that as he gazed at her kiss swollen lips his night would be harbored with thoughts of what they’d look like doing gods knows what else. 

His hand slid down underneath the sheets, firmly grasping at his length as he let out a shuddering breath. He hated doing this; Feeling so pent up and so desperate that he had to resort to using himself. But as of right now he couldn’t care less. 

He imagined her lips around his cock, her innocent eyes gazing up into his. He’d imagine the way she’d gag around him, how her lips would look kissing the head of his cock. 

He groaned at the thought, his head tipping back as he closed his eye and let his thoughts wander more. He’d think about how she’d look with his seed covering her lips and her chin, how she’d moan his name as he devoured her between her legs-

He peaked with a gasp, and a low moan of her name. The minute his orgasm washed over him, and he started to slowly come down, he felt an intense feeling of guilt, shame, but most of all pain. 

Guilt and shame because he hated himself for touching himself to someone who couldn’t be his. 

Pain because she’d never be his. Pain because he knew that no matter what he did, she’d still be betrothed to Jacerys. 

____________________________________________

The next morning, she sat alone at breakfast, supposedly liking it more that way. With her fiance practically ignoring her, and her father too entranced with kissing the king's ass, she learned to enjoy the solitude of just…nothing. 

Plus, she always had her thoughts. Even if they were only occupied with Aemond. 

She played around with the food on her plate as her mind trailed. She remembered the way he kissed her, how he held her. She felt happy, something she so rarely felt with Jacerys. 

She knew how he felt, how he longed for and wished for Baela. She did not blame him, she was beautiful, but she also didn’t feel sad, which, at a point did bother her but, not so much. 

At least, not after last night. 

She smiled to herself as she thought about the kiss, wishing that he would do it again, longing for the way the heat escalated through her body. 

She didn’t register the voice next to her until it spoke her name. 

She looked up, surprised. But, when her eyes met with Aemond’s, her heartbeat quickened, and she smiled. 

“Aemond.”

“You’re not hungry?”

“What?” “You’re not eating.” “Oh,” Her cheeks flushed red for a reason unbeknownst to her, and with a soft huff, she pushed the plate away, “It seems as though I have lost my appetite.” 

Aemond looked concerned at that, and he looked down at her. Despite himself, he found himself worrying yet again for her comfort, her needs. 

“Is something the matter?” She shakes her head, but for some reason, Aemond was persistent. “If this is about what happened last night, then I should apologize-” 

“Apologize?” She interrupted, sitting up straighter at the mention of the word. “Why?” 

“Yes…apologize. Because we should not have done that-”

“But I wanted it to happen.” 

Aemomd stopped and he slowly looked towards her. His eye pierced into hers as if to read every thought and emotion that crossed her brain. He just simply couldn’t believe her. 

“You shouldn’t say things you do not mean, Princess.”

“You don’t know that I don’t mean it.”

“Princess-”

“Aemond.” She said his name as if to challenge him, and he knew that he truly could never challenge her. He saw it in her eyes, he saw by the way she looked at him and smiled that she wished for him just as he wished for her. But these feelings-these blockages-would only cause unnecessary trouble. 

“Please, do not give me a hope that cannot be upheld.” Her heart broke a little at that, and, as he stood to leave, she instinctively stood with him, taking his wrist in her hand as she pulled on his arm. As if the small gesture would stop him from walking, (it did). 

“Aemond please..You do not know what I wish for.” 

His lip curled down into a small frown as he looked at her. He knew what she felt-at least he thought he did-but even if his suspicions were right, even if she did wish for him like how he longed for her, he couldn’t. He may dislike, perhaps even hate his nephew, but he was better than stealing his fiance. 

Right?

“We cannot. To be with you would disgrace your family and the alliance-” 

“Fuck the alliance!” She swore, her eyes boring into his as she studied his face. “Fuck the alliances Aemond, I wish for you. Desperately, I wish for you. Jace does not see me like how you do. Jace does not make me feel the way that you do-”

“It does not matter if Jace makes you happy or if he makes you feel desired-” “He does not wish for me as you do!”

“Princess-” “You do not understand! We are speaking of breaking it off. Neither of us wish for this.” Aemond went quiet at this and he sighed heavily, turning his full body towards her. He pried his arm away from her, staring at her incredulously, his body language giving no open window to how he was truly feeling. With no words coming from him, she continued. 

“I love you.” At those words Aemond showed his shock. He took a step back from her and he raised an eyebrow. 

“You do not mean-”

“Oh for the love of-Yes! I mean it! I love you, Aemond! I love you as if it is breathing! Instinctively, not thinking about it….I love you.” 

Aemond couldn’t hold it anymore, he walked to her and gripped her face tightly, her cheeks squishing slightly in his grasp as he smashed his lips against hers. She initially was shocked at the sudden kiss, but she kissed him back fiercely, holding his wrists as she leaned up to kiss him deeper. 

He led her back until he pressed her back against the table, holding her thighs as he pushed her onto the table. His body fit perfectly in between her thighs, just like he imagined it would. His hands gripped her thighs, one of his hands traveling up, feeling and savoring the soft skin as he groaned. 

She pulled away from the kiss to leave small kisses along his jaw. He bit his lip at the feeling, the action presumably so innocent and so sweet it almost made him chuckle. 

He pulled back slightly, his gaze intense and lust filled as his hand trailed underneath her breasts. 

“Tell me to stop.” He demanded. His head was spinning with the lust that clouded it. He waited for her to push him away, or to whimper a soft “I do not think myself ready”- But she shook her head, bringing his head back to hers swiftly to connect their lips in another passionate kiss. 

He pulled away from the kiss, groaning to himself as he left hot, open mouthed kisses against her jaw and neck. He looked down, his breath heavy as he stared down into her cleavage. He wished for nothing more than to rip her dress open and kiss every inch of her body, but being in the dining room came with its disadvantages. So, he settled for kissing her cleavage, before trailing his lips down the fabric of her dress till he came to her thighs.

Aemond pushed her dress up as far as he could, staring at her the whole time. He slowly pushed her thighs about, giving her time to stop him but she never did. Gently kissing the inner side of her thigh, he tried to reassure her. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes; The way she looked at him with both anxiety and lust. He stared up at her searching for any sign or signal that would make him stop. 

“Is this okay?” Once he saw the light nod of her head, he disappeared underneath her dress. 

She had never been intimate with a man-courtesy of her father, enforcing the “Women should be pure” melodramatic speech into her head ever since she could stand. She always thought it to be a chore, only having heard stories from unhappy married women who hated their husbands, and much less disliked their children a little less, but this? This was exciting, this felt good. 

She placed a hand on his head, moaning his name under her breath as he ate her like a beast. His hands gripped her thighs as if to ground himself-He had tasted women before but for some reason she was so much sweeter, so much more divine. His eyes practically rolled back just from pushing his tongue into her heat, sucking gently on her flit before he pulled away slightly, focusing his attention on her clit as he dipped a finger inside of her. 

The sudden stretch made her jump, and gasp loudly. She may have pleasured herself before but it really never felt like what Aemond was doing to her. He eased his finger in slowly, dragging it back out, and then slowly pushing it back in. Hearing the moans that graced her lips, he continued the slow thrust of his finger for a moment before he added another one. 

She let out a loud moan, a hand on the back of his head as she pushed his head closer to her heat. She felt him chuckle against her, the vibrations only adding to the pleasure. She moaned loudly, perhaps too loudly for comfort, but Aemond only seemed to want more of those noises to come from her. 

He slowly curled his fingers, his mouth praising her clit. The added pressure with the curl of his fingers, and the sucking of her clit made her eyes squeeze shut. 

“Oh gods Aemond, I’m going to-” Just as her orgasm was going to consume her, it stopped. With her heavy breathing, and slightly shaky legs, she slowly sat up. Aemond smirked up at her, holding her gaze as he nipped at her inner thighs. “You stopped..” 

“Yes. Because if you are going to peak it should be on my cock.” 

Her face flushed at the words, and she stared at him with wide eyes as he pulled his trousers down slightly to free his throbbing cock. As their eyes met, he seemed to notice the slight anxiety in her eyes, because he pressed his forehead against hers and lined himself up with her entrance. 

“Tell me to stop if it hurts too much.” She nodded in response, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders as he pushed into her. She let out a gasp; The feeling was new, discomfiting but..new. Her face scrunched up at the stretch, and Aemond shushed her quietly as he started to move. After a few thrusts, her body relaxed, and she started to moan his name. 

Hearing his name fall from her lips was like a prayer answered, like a lifelong dream he had been waiting for. He grunted as he started to rock his hips back and forth into her slowly. It took everything inside of him to not pound into her, to fuck her like he had fantized about. He wished that her father could see her now, her maidenhood gone and her body fully submitting to the pleasure he so gracefully gave her. 

“Aemond..Aemond oh gods-” Her voice broke as he went faster, her moans only getting louder. She tried to wrap her mind around the pleasure he was giving her, the way his hips moved slowly yet deeply, the way the tip of his thick cock rubbed against the spot so deliciously. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she held him close to her. 

One of his hands was on her thigh, the other on the table as he thrusted into her, as if holding the edge of the table would stop the creaking sounds, or the way she moaned his name, or how his groans got louder as his climax approached. 

White splattered her vision as her orgasm washed over. She cried out his name in pleasure, holding him close as his legs trapped him inside of her. The feeling of her core pulsating and tightening made Aemond’s head spin, and he grunted out a moan of her name as he came himself, spilling his seed inside of her. 

As the two sat there, basking in the afterglow of being intimate, neither of them would move for what felt like hours. Even though the position that they were in was compromising, they smiled, and laughed softly at the situation itself. 

Once they both got cleaned up-the best they could get cleaned up for just having sex on the dining room table-Aemond took her hand. She smiled softly at Aemond, her heart racing in a new, and exciting way. The two stared at each other for a while, trying to wrap their minds around the fact that now, they could truly be together, or at least, now, they had a hope that they could be together.

____________________________________________

[gonzodangerfeels]

That C sure does think about pink a lot.

It is the one on the other end of his conversation that has me curious though.