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siddyyyyyyyy · 2 days ago

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It's All an Act

Actor!AU

Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader

wc: 5 K summary: Actor!Bruce plays as your love interest in your up-coming movie warnings: no y/n used, Bruce acting like a rich kid sometimes, fluff, consumption of alcohol at a party, light harrassment a/n: part two is finally here!!! please ignore how long it took for me to write it, just enjoy this piece of my soul. Enjoy!

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Next day on set felt different. You couldn‘t forget how good he felt against you, how his scent lingered on your clothes after wards and how he shamelessly cock-blocked you. Sure, he has a good reason for it; he wants to make your first time with him special. You appreciate it, you really do, but he could‘ve told you earlier.

At least you both talked about the rest, officially dating and happy. It would have been way better if you could make it public, but with your jobs, you decided on keeping it a secret for the time-being, until some time passes.

But you both don‘t mind, it even feels more thrilling or rather more exciting in that way. Truth be told, it feels like you are in a cheesy romance story. And it‘s the best feeling ever.

Now, you are watching the crew set up the area with cameras, props and mics, making sure everything goes right again while you sip on your coffee. You‘ve barely gotten any sleep anyway after last night, and you really hope Malva won‘t come by and ask for updates. You are unsure what you‘d tell her.

Well, there is no time to panic over things like this and you have to film a more difficult scene today. Which requires stunts, and an angsty scene afterwards, which requires you crying and shouting at him. God, you have a love-hate-relationship with this job.

There is a stunt double of Bruce, actually Andy, that the staff is trying to look more like Bruce with colouring his hair in black and getting him the same clothes he wears for the scene.

You do your best to make sure the few stunts are incredibly safe, working together with the team even though you don‘t understand anything they are talking about, but still make sure they do everything safely.

You panic every time you see Bruce‘s stunt double pratice his falls and jumps, silently letting him do his job and let him focus. Once everything seems to be safe and sound, the action scene starts. Standing by the side, you watch the mission play out smoothly and without any problems. Thank God you didn‘t have enough budget to get explosions in, or else you‘d be worried sick over the planning. The only reason your budget didn‘t fit for some explosions, was because of the cool, high-tech gadget props you bought instead. They are not only cool-looking, but also realistic and mostly useable, if there were real bullets and other things inside.

But just to be sure, you settled on keeping the gadgets unloaded. Just in case something could go wrong.

In all honesty, you expected for Bruce to at least know how to hold a gun the right way. You knew from educating yourself through various videos and posts, so that surprised you. Ignoring the slight surprise, you stay patient beside the stunt choreographer and listen in on the plan of the scene. Shooting it would require some difficulties because of the several cuts and the stunt double, mostly because of the stunt itself.

Andy is going to jump through a window while shooting several enemies inside the room. The coordinator for this scene is trust-worthy and so is the rest of the crew. So, without any further stress, the actors play out their role flawlessly. The camera crew is making sure to capture the action-filled energy of the scene and it seems to work perfectly.

In the end, you worried way too much about it all going wrong in so many ways, that it seems ridiculous to you now. Eventually, after several hours of filming the whole action scene, it‘s time for a bigger break. Bruce looks tired already and you start to feel some kind of guilt for making him do stuff like this. But he auditioned for this role himself, so it‘s also his fault.

You stay back on set to help the rest to pack up the props and clean up the set overall, being busy thinking through the next set of scenes you‘ll have to shoot together after the big break.

A soft tap on your shoulder brings you back to reality and you turn around. Bruce locks eyes with you in an instant, immediately softening his expression.

He asks for cuddles.

»Now?«

You whisper back hushed and take a few steps off the set with him. He looks uncharacteristically vulnerable and almost sheepish.

»A hug will do as well… with you. On a bed. For fifteen minutes.«

His shoulders slump as he waits for your answer, knowing he sounds like a total dork right now. But you couldn‘t care less right now, feeling yourself crumble and give in easily.

»I think your trailer has a bigger bed, no?«

◐

That‘s how you ended up snuggling up together after every tiring day on set. It actually helped setting your mind on track again, being free on talking his ears off with your current plans on the movie and on what dates the interviews are planned. At the mention of interviews, he gets more curious. Of course, you won‘t be making your new relationship public any time soon, the timing just isn‘t right and it could result in more stress than necessary.

So, the interviews you‘ll need to attend with Bruce will be neutral. Well, as neutral as it can be, since you were also invited to a premiere party once the movie will roll in the theaters. But those are worries for your future selfs, you need to focus on the production first.

It happens very rarely, but today Bruce is taking you to set with his own car. You told him countless of times that it is risky and paparrazi are dying to get some crumbs of content or eventual leaks for the upcoming movie. But he doesn‘t seem too scared by it, he is a billionare after all. And who are you to say no to those big, blue eyes?

Arriving, you haven‘t noticed someting suspicious so far. No annoying people with cameras whose shutter is louder than a damn drum kit. It‘s relieving. Finally, something seems to go your way.

»Are these pictures planned? People are freaking out, the hype is getting bigger.«

Malva comes up beside you, holding her Ipad in front of you to see what she‘s talking about.

These goddamn paparrazi.

Her Ipad displays several pictures of you and Bruce walking across the street, his hand resting on your lower back, both of you smiling about something. On the other pictures, you can see the way he gazes down at you, expression soft and loving, almost carefree.

It really does look almost planned, the way you clinge to his side to stay close will make any person think you two are a couple.

You loudly clear your throat and accidentally gain more attention from other crew members, ducking your head with an apologetic smile. Your best friend only raises her eyebrow at you and closes her screen.

»Planned. We did that just a moment ago, totally didn‘t want that to, uh… gain negative attention. All for the hype.«

You quickly answer back and smile at her, rather awkwardly. She keeps her skeptical stare on you and almost seems to ask you more before she decides to drop the topic and move on.

»Just let us discuss something like this next time. Deal?«

»Deal.«

Malva did sound like a disappointed parent, but you really don‘t want to drop the news on her like that. Sighing out, you move on from it and focus on coordinating the rest of the scenes correctly. Using the break to check on the media, you can easily find the hottest topic trending on Twitter at the moment.

Your — the pictures some paparrazzi took — are floating everywhere. It‘s like a disease. Every other acoount is talking about it, pointing out the hand placement and the soft gaze Bruce holds for you.

THE HANDDDD!! is this offocial now? Should‘ve be me. I wish someone looked at me the way Bruce Wayne looks at her both lips are smiling right now Bi panic omg!!

Some comments take you off guard, but you don‘t want to pretend like it isn‘t amusing you, or you were any better as a teenager with celebrity crushes. Forcing yourself not to giggle at your phone, you put it away for the meantime and get back to work like a serious adult.

After the rather uneventful day, you make your way back to Bruce‘s Manor again, having made a meet up again. Mostly consisting of cuddles and reading.

»What do you think of our new photo together? I hit it off, didn‘t I?«

You slowly turn your head over to him, being confused on what he means by that, before it finally clicks in your mind.

»You saw them too? Did you plan this?«

Suddenly, he raises his hands to his defense and shakes his head.

»Of course not! I would‘ve been way more awkward if it was planned… pff, planned.«

You see him cross his arms and glance away, looking like a child who is being accused of having eaten the last cookie. With fresh cookie crumbs on the corner of his mouth.

Sighing out, you let it slide. You end up being cuddled up to his chest either way, basking in the warmth and comfort it brings to your heart.

◐

You finished filming all scenes for the movie and let it get edited and produced by the other team, only dropping in every now and then to check on them and make sure it meets your expectations. The edits and paparazzi pictures even gained their popularity and even hyped up your movie even more. It‘s ridiculous, watching your up-coming movie getting pushed and bigger by some simple edits, that got most probably made by some teenage girls.

You don‘t complain, actually having saved some of those thirst videos yourself. Just make sure Bruce doesn‘t see your phone and you won‘t get into bigger trouble.

Currently, you wait for the last adjustments to be done at the interview before you could start it, already sitting beside the bigger men on the chairs, while the interviewer gets ready to ask her questions.

You are actually a little excited for this, never having answered questions to your own movie. It was always questions for your role, but now you can actually feel like a director too.

Bruce is also prepared beside you, mostly glancing at you before they set up the cameras and the interviewer sits down in front of you.

First, you greet each other, sharing your excitement to be here and answer some questions for the media.

The whole answering questions thing goes on well, making sure neither of you spoil something or give away your secret relationship. Now, the woman before you asks the final question, wearing a sly smile on her face.

»As for the final question, I hope you can answer it without spoiling too much...« with a light nod from your part, she continues, »Did you take inspiration from the vigilante ‚Superman‘ from Metropolis for the superhero in your movie?«

She finishes, awaiting curiously with a twinkle in her eye. She is popular for her usual eagerness and teasing nature in interviews, and it shows now.

Finally, you give her a nod, also smiling lightly.

»Not exactly him, but I did tried to use some references from different vigilantes from around the citys.«

You don‘t notice it, but Bruce tenses up subtly beside you. His eyes stay locked on the interviewer before they fall back to you; making him relax. He speaks up beside you, unable to keep a teasing remark.

»Not the best vigilante to choose from, but fair choice.« His smug expression makes it seem less sharp, giving him a light chuckle back.

»And you know better vigilantes?« You tease back amused, not having expected for him to be so smug but you won‘t complain.

The interview ends well, having a nice feeling about it afterwards. Your ways part with Bruce, sadly having to go back to work and focus on yourself for the rest of the day.

It was an unspoken rule between the two fo you to ignore or answer relationship questions in a sly way, and luckily, there were no questions of the sort. But you know, as soon as questions like “How do you not catch any feelings during the movie?“ or, “Your chemistry is great! Have you seen the pictures on set, because you two look fantastic together.“, you had to be prepared for more harrasment about it in the future.

Today, is one of those days, where you wish talkshows weren‘t a thing.

»So… the edits. Let‘s talk about them! There‘s hundreds, no, thousands of them all around! Have you seen any of those before?« Asks the moderator, while wearing an amused smirk and watches your reaction. You already feel like this can go south really quickly and shake your head, staying composed.

»Haven‘t seen any of them… yet.«

He quirks an eyebrow at you, letting out a light chuckle. »Well, you‘re about to see some of them!«

With a dramatic arm motion of his, the large screen behind you lights up and starts to show some fan made edits of both Bruce and you. Scenes of the trailer and some leaks, as well as paparazzi pictures, are clipped together that make everything look all the more intimate. Not knowing how to react, you cover your face and hope for the best. The live audience cheers loudly, the camera cutting from your flustered state to the audience as they continue on showing the fan made edit on screen. The moderator finally cuts you some slack, laughing at your flustered state. It‘s not helping, but you are glad that Bruce isn‘t here, witnessing it all and maybe throwing in some teasing comments too.

Sighing out, you look back at the moderator and calm down again. What were you thinking, joining a late night talk show like this?

»I never want to see that again...«

»Oh, just one more.« The moderator teases and smiles widely, letting another edit play on screen. It‘s one that you have saved on your phone. Recognising it, you try your best not to react as embarrassed as before. Still, your rosy cheeks give it away, even though you are way calmer now. Finn, the moderator, feels more friendly than ususal and decides to not point it out. For now, the show had enough entertainment after having had a rather funny conversation with him and showing you these thirst edits.

◐

Finally having a day off, you decide to spend it together with your significant other and relax. Bruce however, doesn‘t seem to have enough of creating core memories together, that you‘ll spend thinking about for the next ten years.

»Oh, thanks for the delicious meal, Alfred. You are dismissed for now.« Bruce tells him with a soft smile and nod, watching how the butler leaves the dining room and lets the chaos begin.

Richard, or Dick, the eldest of his sons, seems to be the most adequate, but also the most lively among his brothers. Bruce has already told one embarrasing story about his parkour accidents during a gala, which made you laugh a bit. That made Dick stay a little more quiet in return, getting the hint that more of his teasing nature will be greatly regretted. Somehow, the table was mostly calm during the dinner. Most of the conversation was started by Dick or Bruce, some comments coming from Damian as well. Although, not the nicest.

Still, they managed to behave rather well. That was, until Alfred returned with some scrumptious looking dessert. After serving tea, the table tends to get more lively. Tim and Damian often bicker quietly about who‘s getting the next piece faster, however you try not to pay too much mind and not make it awkward. Jason on the other hand, stays seated by Dick‘s side and makes fun of the two younger brothers.

»No wonder you‘re both such fatasses.«

»Jason.« Bruce smiles at his second son, trying his best not to physically cringe at himself for needing to keep his sons under control in front of you.

You, however, don‘t really care much about the antics around the table. You‘ve seen way worse at a small children‘s birthday party, so this actually feels domestic, in a way.

»It‘s okay, father. We… are sharing this last cupcake.« Damian intervenes and seems tense as he cuts up the last sweet dessert in half. He makes sure to make one half bigger than the other and gives the smaller one to Tim. Luckily, Bruce feels more satisfied and relaxed after that and continues on sipping his tea beside you, at the head of the table.

After the nice dinner with his family, you try to help Alfred with cleaning the table up, but he kindly stops you and insists on doing it alone.

»I greatly appreiciate it, but I believe master Bruce prefers to have you all to himself tonight. I will handle this by myself.« Convinced, you leave the butler alone and make your way to Bruce, who just finished talking to his boys.

»There you are… let‘s head upstairs, darling.« His arm snakes around your waist as you walk upstairs to his master bedroom, getting some well deserved privacy after the long, hard-working week. Inside, he can‘t contain his feelings anymore and picks you up, just to throw you both onto his bed and curl up with you. The room fills with light giggles from the both of you, turning it into a play fight on the bed. It doesn‘t take long for Bruce to get hold of your wrists and pin you down under him, looking as smug as ever over his win. You continue to squirm and try to fight him, although you don‘t try to get away from him; just enjoying the playful moment. Finally, he gets to make your legs go still aswell, putting more of his weight onto you.

»Now, be good and stay still for a moment, hm? Wouldn‘t want to hurt my pretty girl...« You can hear him sigh out lightly as he leans into the crook of your neck, planting soft kisses along your skin before he gently bites down, leaving light marks. It makes you instantly relax, enjoying the way he manages to be so gentle and passionate at the same time. He also relaxes, finally feeling more comfortable showing his affection this way and simply keeps going, not wanting to end this yet. His bigger hand trails down your thigh, urging it to hook around his hip, seemingly craving more contact with you.

A light hum leaves your lips, tangling your fingers into his black hair, gasping lightly once he starts to nibble harder on your skin. It leaves goosebumps down your spine, shifting to wrap your other leg around him too. Suddenly, this doesn‘t feel so innocent anymore.

Bruce tries his best to hold back on a groan, eventually exhales shakily against you. He finally stops his gentle attack on your neck, leaning away to admire his handiwork. You take him in from your position, watching the way his eyes are blacked out and his breathing grew rather uneven. His eyes dart back to you, shifting so he isn‘t crushing you under his weight.

»I could never grow tired of this, you know?«

Bruce secretly cringes at himself for being so vulnerable, so open with you. But judging by your reaction, you seem to love it. The way your eyes soften even more, how you stay completely relaxed and peaceful under him is saying enough. Your hand reaches out to cup his cheek, bringing him closer again to exchange more gentle kisses between each other. The evening turns out in you both being relaxed and endlessly exchanging affection together, growing dissapointed once it gets late.

As you prepare yourself to put your coat back on by the front door, Bruce gets held back by Alfred.

»You know, she can always stay over night. One night won‘t hurt, master Bruce.«

But he doesn‘t relent and shakes his head, a light frown stretching on his face. »I don‘t have time for this, Alfred.«

As quick as he dismissed his butler, he is right back at your side and helps to adjust your sleeves from your coat.

»Let me drive you home,« You go along without argument and follow him outside to the garage, sitting into the passanger seat and let him drive.

◐

»Bruce! We got invited to our first ever premiere-movie-party-thing!«

You exclaim as soon as he picks up the call, making him exhale in relief. After a short pause, he asnwers back.

»Premiere-moive-party-thing? I gotcha,« he chuckles, putting finally closing the big folder on his desk after studying it for hours, »I‘m pretty sure it‘s because we‘re the lead actors of the whole thing… and you are the director.«

His casual approach makes you roll your eyes, rolling onto your stomach in your bed. »Yes, but isn‘t it cool? I never went to one, what is that like? Do you think it‘ll be filled with annoying rich people?« You start twirling your hair as you continue to talk with him, listening to his response with a light smile.

»They‘re alway filled with ‘em. I always get black-out drunk, so it‘s easier to deal with it. The music isn‘t the greatest as well… it actually feels more like a frat party sometimes.« His description of it makes you chuckle, making Bruce smile in return.

»So… do you think we should go there anyways?«

»Of course we should. Especially you, makes your image go up higher.« He replies back without thinking too much. It makes sense, and you don‘t think too much about going to that party. You heard they will be some interviewers, so you better not get black-out drunk.

◐

Arriving outside the tall building, the bass that‘s heard from inside is making you lightly

intimidated. Taking a deep breath, you say your last prayer and enter. In the lobby, you need to check in and get a colourfull wristband, signalling your status so the security knows who to protect in an case of emergency. The others can save themselves.

shortly after you, Bruce arrives and goes through the same check-in as you. He spooks you lightly by snaking his hand onto your shoulder, earning a surprised gasp and smack to his chest.

»Sorry… having fun already?« He leans down to be at your eye-level and sneak in a gentle kiss, but quickly decides against it and smoothly straightens himself again. Although, he keeps his hand on your waist.

»I don‘t know, nothing happened yet. And I don‘t know where the drinks are, I‘m kinda nervous,« you hold your hands out for him, letting him see the light tremors coming from your nervousness. He frowns lightly upon seeing your hands, taking them into his warm ones.

»You don‘t have to worry so much, okay? Just a small party, you‘ll answer some questions and we can leave. How‘s that sound?«

You feel more comfortable after his assurance and nod, restraining yourself from leaning into him and being more affectionate.

Eventually, the party starts properly after more actors and other public-figures arrive, turning the music up a notch. Currently, you‘re having fun and enjoy some sweet, alcoholic drinks, relaxing further and taking things easy. Following Bruce‘s advice of drinking definitely worked, and you soon have your first interview as one reporter approaches you with a camera man by his side. After getting permission from you, the camera starts rolling and the reporter gets started.

»We‘ve already seen some sneak-peeks and the trailer alone gives us so much insight on your chemistry with Andy, so… was it difficult to master such energy or did it come naturally?«

Typical question to try and suck some possible gossip from an actor, but you are greatly used to it, eventually giving him your typical answer back.

»Oh, you know, it really depends if the actors are good or not. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn‘t, so it really depends on both actors to create the right perfomance.« Definitely not the answer the reporter was searching for, but he‘ll settle with it for now. Robert starts again, angling his microphone back to himself.

»What was hardest on this movie? The directing or acting with your own expectations and critique?« A more pleasant question to answer. You respond honestly, giving an open insight of how stressful it really was, being both the director and actor in one.

Eventually, Robert seems to back down with his questions after five more minutes, starting to build up a more casual conversation with you. Logically, you can‘t really back down from it and simply go along, listening to him talk and speak aswell.

»...Yes— and your dress? Seriously, I couldn‘t take my eyes off you the whole interview, I don‘t know why there aren‘t a line of men standing right behind you, waiting for your attention!« You chuckle along, although a bit forced. »No, seriously, I love the way you look tonight. Who was your stylist, I should give her a raise,« Robert steps closer to you, wearing a charming smile, the best one he can muster. You stay still and simply try to joke along and bear it through for a couple more moments, eyes daring out to search for back-up.

»Would you believe that I was her stylist for tonight? All my work.« Bruce steps in, seemingly appearing out of nowhere into the frame and casually lays his hand back onto your waist, wearing a smug smile. Robert pauses briefly before he catches himself and gets back to being a ‘casual-playful‘ reporter.

»No way! I‘ll make sure to write that into my news report later.« The reporter awkwardly says goodbye after receiving a light chuckle from the other and finally shuffles away from the both of you, camera man following him closely. You can barely make out the way Robert scolds his camera man for something that was most-probably not his fault anyway.

»Next time just scream really loud, I‘ll be there in no time.« Without wanting to cause any unnecessary attention, he squeeyes your waist and eventually gets back to the party, searching for some more interviewers too. Without any further thinking, you go back to the bar and get yourself another drink. One drink becomes two, and you make sure to stay leaned against something in order not to lose balance. You settle on being more in the backgrounds for now, but you quickly change your mind once they turn on some up-beat music and free the dance floor. It‘s already packed with other famous people, them being drunk too, no doubt. They happily include you into the chaos, dancing however to the beat all-together. You slip in another few drinks and shots during that time, just enjoying yourself and letting lose. Finally, after what seemed like too long and not enough, you get yourself off the dancefloor to have a quick trip to the bathroom.

With wobbly legs and aching feet, you manage to get there and freshen up, feeling lighter afterwards, but also way more drunk than before. You try to make your wy back to the dance floor, but you briefly lose your sense of orientation and simply stand there, trying to figure out how to get back to the fun girls.

»Are we ookay to head back home, darling?« A smooth voice asks from your side and almost makes you roll your eyes, not recognising it right away.

»Bruce!«

»Hey— yeah, that‘s me...« He chuckles softly, and catches you gently as soon as you lean in to hug him tightly. You feel the way his hands rub along your back before they stop at your sides and just keep you steady on your feet.

»Can we go now?« Bruce leans down to talk better to you, his breath brushing against you ear. You let out a soft giggle, leaning back and meet his eyes. It‘s clear to him that you will try your everything to at least get a last drink before driving home. As expected, you pout at him and glance back to the general direction of the dancefloor.

»No, darling, c‘mon...«

»Please?« You draw out and lean more into him, grabbing lightly onto his shirt. He takes you in, trying his best not to get distracted by your shiny eyes and cute behaivour, most likely trying to play it up for him. He manages to stay stubborn and shakes his head lightly, his expression growing soft.

»We have to go home, okay? It‘s too late and you‘ll regret it tomorrow.« He tries to be as gentle as possible, lightly rubbing your side with one hand. With a final huff, you slump a bit into him and give in. A faint smirk graces Bruce‘s face and carefully guides you out of the building, finally setting you inside the car with care.

The car ride was mostly filled with your yapping, being happy about the fun dances you had together with the strange women, still shining with excited energy, even after the party. Finally at your house, he takes care of you, carefully taking your make-up off before changing you into more comfortable clothes. You don‘t remember much after that, being out cold the second your blanket envelopes your form.

Waking up was the worst part. Your head pounds as if some gremlin is on top of it and slams a hammer onto you repeatedly. After sitting up, you realise that you are already in your fuzzy pyjamas and cleaned up. Not paying too much mind to it, you reach for your phone at your nightstand, almost knokcing off the glass of water on it. Surprised, you study your small table and pick the note off of it.

Hope your head won‘t kill you today. Cute pyjamas, by the way. -B.

←MASTERLIST

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epickiya722 · 4 months ago

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I'm calling it and I hope I'm wrong about it.

If Gege drops a backstory for Sukuna, folks are still going to be like "well, it's not the backstory I want for him".

#now I'm a sukuna fan and i said it before #i could actually give no fucks about a backstory for him #like at all #the story ain't about him #two backstories in jjk haven't actually been fleshed out fully so why would the big bad get out but not the mc hello?#pieces of a backstory yes #that has happened #and I'm not counting the pre hidden inventory arc as a full one #that was just the flashback needed to understand future events #and it wasn't just gojo's backstory BTW it was geto's toji's riko's hell even yaga and shoko #now would i be mad about a sukuna backstory? no I'd love it #but do i think it's actually necessary especially since we kinda already know who he is...#because of the pieces of his background shown before? no no i don't #unlike some folks i don't feel entitled to it #i feel like some of you want a backstory to excuse his actions let's be honest #because lately if a villain has a sad backstory people ignore that they have made terrible decisions they did not have to do #or just excuse their actions #but their actions is a part of the story how do you ignore PARTS OF A STORY?! YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND IT!!#i don't care what sukuna had going on in the past he still is a curse to yuji #just kiya's thoughts #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna

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yukioos · 21 days ago

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Hmo.. Viktor x drunk!reader, After attending an event and overdid it with the alcohol due to mel being best friends with reader (Progress day or other events that lets them loosen up) (No nsfw or yes nsfw!)

NASTY DOG

SUMMARY: viktor x reader // on progress day, you tend to celebrate and drink too much, ignoring viktor’s worries. you end up confessing your feelings to your best friend, and take your relationship a step further.

AUTHORS NOTE: eeeee this ask is amazinggg!!! i love the idea of mel n reader being best friends sm!!!!! this is 2.2k words, a lot longer than i expected it to be

WARNINGS: suggestive but no smut, making out, not a lot of mel and reader talking, mention about reader and viktor having maybe sex later, not proofread

the way the city of piltover progressed and changed throughout the years has always fascinated you. watching new inventions come and go was always interesting, and the city had a spectacularly advanced community. heimerdinger always tells you and the members of the piltover community stories about how he founded the city. he is especially smart in science and works hard to improve the lives of those around him, which you always admired.

you were pleased when you figured out he found a new assistant, viktor. he grew to be your best friend quickly, and always rambled about his studies and his mistakes. whenever he makes a new discovery, you are always the first person he tells, and he explains it with such detail.

he’s a handsome guy. you never understood why people weren’t all over him, maybe because he was closed off and spent his days in a lab. he’s a busy man, you know that as well as you recognize the palm of your hand, but he always finds a way to make time for you.

there’s no doubt he loves you. as his best friend, you are always his first priority, but he loves to indulge in his interests, that being inventions. as a way to spend time with you and enjoy science at the same time, sometimes he lets you sit next to him in the laboratory while he’s working.

he occasionally asks you to pass him an instrument he can use, but most of the time, he just tells you to sit there and look pretty. you know well that he doesn’t like to be bothered during his work, and normally he hates it when someone is in the room with him as he’s working. however, it’s a different story when that person is you.

he never feels bothered by you, no. in fact, you help him concentrate more than he does when he’s without you. he doesn’t mind the soft sound of you turning pages in the book he bought you, and he doesn’t mind when you stand up to take a small sip of water. he rather enjoys when you do those small actions without even realizing it’s a large thing for him. he can’t help but realize it brings immense joy to him when you ask a little question like, ‘what does that do?’ when he picks up an instrument for his work, or when you make a quick statement, ‘that’s a pretty color,’ when he oh-so unintentionally adds your favorite color to his works.

you’ve always supported him with his hextech project, even though you could get frustrated with the way he’s acted in the past. sometimes he would feel agitated because he couldn’t figure a part out, or if he messed something up. despite this, you’ve continued to tell him that a true scientist never figures something out perfectly on the first try. you hoped your words would affect him, and thank god they do. once you overheard jayce complaining about how something isn’t working right, and viktor repeated your words back to him. that of course, made your heart swell with pride.

you always knew the hextech would, sometime in the future, impact a whole civilization. heimerdinger said he’s never seen anything like it in his 314 years of living, nor anything that came close to it ever since piltover was founded 200 years ago.

speaking of which, jayce is planning to give the big speech tonight. lucky for you, viktor decided to give you front-row seats to the assembly.

jayce suggested that viktor should join him on the stage and share the speech, but he refused. it wasn’t uncommon for people to have stage fright. the speech was impressive, jayce did an amazing job, honoring each and every one of the members of piltover.

after the ceremony, a party was hosted by a volunteer group, who set up a large room full of drinks and a feast for thousands. you hadn’t had time to talk to viktor in between the ceremony and party, so you began to take a few drinks with mel.

you hesitated a bit, but eventually gave in when mel reminded you that it’s the only party piltover will have for their 200th anniversary. the fancy room is decorated with gold banners featuring the words ‘happy progress day.’ there are couches, tables, and booths all around, as if it is serving as an elegant restaurant.

not too long after, your vision starts to become blurry, and your words slur. you turn around to see viktor and jayce sitting in a dark red booth, most likely discussing their next chapter of hextech over a glass of wine.

you grin and cheer, then mumble to mel, “oh, it’s viktor! i’ll be right back, mel!” and she nods, chuckling as she softly pats your back.

you walk over to viktor with a bounce in every step, feeling giddy after taking one too many sips of wine. he quickly spots your recognizable figure and smiles at you, eyes softening at your stumbling body.

“i thought i told you not to drink too much,” he wraps an arm around your shoulder, rubbing it gently before continuing, “you know drinking isn’t good for you.”

his worried voice makes you smile, and your cheeks flush, as they always do around him. a warm feeling spreads your body, and you hum, staring at viktor’s bright eyes. jayce soon gets pulled away by someone who seemingly needs his attention, and lets out a little “let’s work on the hextech tomorrow, viktor,” ending with a small goodbye.

“oh, good! now i have you all to myself!” you smile, placing your arm on viktor’s bicep, “didn’t you talk to heimer— heim— um…” you mumble, putting your finger to your lip and rubbing your temple, “i can’t remember, vik…”

“heimerdinger?” he asked, tilting his head in confusion. you must be drunk out of your mind if you can’t even remember the professor’s name.

“oh, yes! such a sweet guy… anyway, he talked to you about your new little gadgets, right? how’d that go?”

he knew you’d forget in a few minutes, but responded anyway. he sighed with frustration, “jayce and i showed the professor that the hextech is safe. he approved, of course, but i even found out a way to fortify the crystals, as you might remember me testing it out yesterday. we showed him the gloves and the hex claw—“

“i love the hex claw! it’s sooo cool, i love how you can control it with your own hand!” you comment, smiling and looking up at viktor through your eyelashes.

he blushes and nods, “eh, yes, thank you. we worked hard on it— but, anyways, heimerdinger explained the gadgets will most likely be perfected in a decade. i mean, why can’t we use the equipment now? i understand there are a few things wrong, but they would help the community so much!” he furrows his brows in frustration, eyes squinting.

“awh, baby, i know you worked hard on that. heimer— heim… um…” you forgot his name again, causing your best friend to smirk and chuckle to himself. you place your hand on his chest, “you’re real handsome, vik. don’t understand why people aren’t all over you.”

the way you look up at him with big eyes, your hand on his chest, gets his heart racing. he suddenly feels more nervous with the compliment and your actions. you rub his chest so caringly and keep glancing from his tie to his eyes.

you move closer to him, “your heart’s racing, baby. you nervous?” he bites his lip and glances to where jayce would have sat, trying to avoid your intimidating gaze.

he feels so small around you. not in a bad way, of course, you didn’t break him down, but instead built him up and made him a more confident version of himself. but when you were like this, when you flirt with him like this, his heart melts. he swears he would’ve fallen to his knees if he was standing. he would never admit it to anyone, but you could take over his life, control every single thing he does and he’d still be happy because at least he’d be with you.

“y’know, you’re so sweet, so caring and loving. you’re the smartest person i know, and you don’t get much credit for it. i hope you know i love you and everything you do for me and this city, vikky. i really mean it.”

i love you.

all his problems disappear when you say those three words, and his eyes visibly widen. he doubts you for the first time in his life, and he asks, “did councilor medarda tell you to say this? are you messing with me? because if you are��“

“sweetheart, i’ve never been more serious in my life. you’re my best friend, but i want more. i want you.”

you slowly straddle his lap, hand still perched on his chest. you look deep into his eyes as if you are trying to find his soul hidden inside.

he remembers you once said if you had to merge souls with anyone, it’d be him. you claimed you wouldn’t complain about anything, and you’re practically the same person. it truly was an intimate conversation with him, and you finally spoke out that you wanted to stay with him for eternity. you just wish you knew how.

you rub his chest, wishing you could rip his vest off and feel him, skin-to-skin. you completely forget you are in a public space, however, the chatter and people had died down, and most retreated to their homes already.

you bring a hand up to his cheek, and he can’t help but lean into the comforting feeling of your palm. rubbing his cold cheek, you feel shaking hands on your waist. you grin and glance up to his eyes, then down to his lips multiple times, trying to find any part of him that doesn’t want to go through.

but you can’t find anything, so you close your eyes and softly kiss his lips. you have a party in your head, congratulating yourself for finally kissing him and confessing your feelings. your lips continue to move against his cold ones, and soon you begin to hear soft whimpers from the man.

you grin into the kiss, understanding the effect you have on the scientist. moving your hand to the back of his head, you feel adrenaline coursing and pumping through your veins. this is the most exhilarating moment of your life.

he grips your waist tighter, and one hand moves down to your ass. it lingers for a couple of seconds, waiting to see if you’ll push it off. when you don’t, he grips the plush of your ass hard, and you whimper into the kiss.

he feels proud of himself, loving your reaction to the small action. he brings his other hand under and up your back, feeling the soft skin against his palm.

you feel as if you’re about to lose oxygen and pass out, not wanting to break up the kiss. you push past your wants and desires, moving away from him for a split second. the combo of his tired eyes and plump lips is surely a sight. a string of saliva is still connected to your lips to his, but you don’t care.

god, you need to be closer to him, you need to be one. you grip his shoulder and tugged on his hair, eliciting a moan from his mouth. you push your lips against him, always wanting more from him. you whimper against his lips, however, still being the dominant figure in the action.

moving closer to him, you feel safer, and heat blooms from his chest. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, still keeping a hand in his soft hair. as you move closer to him, your chest pushes against him. he groans, feeling your soft and warm body close to his.

he’s knocked out of his thoughts when he’s reminded that you’re in a public space, and he taps your unclothed arm. you hate to part your lips, but concede, as you need air.

you whine against his chest and bring your hands back to rest on his shoulders. he mumbles and stutters, “s-sweetheart, we really shouldn’t be doing this here. we should go back to your room—“ he looks like he wants to say something more, but he catches himself and bites his tongue.

“i know that look, vik. don’t feel guilty about this, i didn’t have too much to drink, i’m aware of my actions, i’m okay.” you smile up at him and give him a quick peck, more intimate and cherished than the last, “let’s go up to my room.”

he smiles, and you stumble out of the booth, viktor follows right after you. he grabs his cane and stumbles, still nervous and sweaty after the interaction with you. you hold his hand and continue talking to him, rambling about some show of how two characters are gods who represent life and death, who happen to be each other’s spouses.

you recommend he watches the movie, but deep in your mind, you’re still thinking about how you could make yours and viktor’s night even better.

viktor listens to all your words, he always does. but now, he just wants you to shut up, he wants to consume you and become one, as you said a few days ago. he tries to not grip your hand tightly, trying not to express his feelings at the moment, of how badly he wants you.

#yukioos #arcane #arcane x you #arcane x reader #viktor x you #viktor x reader #viktor league of legends #viktor #no spoilers

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sleepyjuice · 5 months ago

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toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.

you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.

rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something

rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with

rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t

rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK

rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.

rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.

you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.

three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.

you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.

sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe

you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.

you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.

rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)

you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too

rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby

you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.

#rafe cameron #toxic!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #rafe imagine

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aliteralsemicolon · 7 months ago

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We can't be friends, but I'd like to just pretend

Part 1 of We can't be friends (wait for your love) | See part 2 | See part 3

You and Spencer have convinced yourselves that you’re only meant to be friends despite the strong tension between you two. It only seems to intensify the longer you ignore it, eventually reaching its boiling point and forcing changes in the friendship.

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

(but no mentions of pronouns in this so it can be read as gn)

DISCLAIMER This story is SFW but it’s intended for mature audiences only. You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read.

WARNING Mentions of: Indirect peer pressure, alcohol/drinking/being drunk, very slight implicated SA (it doesn’t happen), serial killer, kidnapping, torture, murder, stalking, and threats. It’s all barely there and doesn’t really matter to the story tbh. Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 9.3K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

Being in love is hard. Being in love with your best friend is harder. It’s a merciless form of torture really, devoting yourself entirely to the person you hold dearest to your heart, but they aren’t yours. It was almost masochistic, standing by to serve him in whatever way you thought he needed. Luckily, you weren’t a masochist.

Not entirely, at least.

You were there for him when he needed, offering whatever you had to give, but there were parts of you that you kept guarded. To protect yourself, but more importantly, to protect Spencer. It wasn’t uncommon for you to hear that you were ‘too much’ from passing lovers in your life. A certain level of detachment was necessary to ensure the safety of Spencer’s friendship. He was the most important person in your life.

Maybe it was the multitude of degrees as a result of his intelligence. He never let you feel stupid or any less intelligent.

Maybe it was the way his whole body lit up when he shared information he’d stored in that beautiful mind.

Maybe it was the charm in how goofily he carried himself. The way his hands would flail around when he spoke to keep up with the speed his brain moved at.

Or maybe it was how he made you feel seen.

How he always knew what to say, what to do. How he remembered little details about you, like how you preferred the window seat on the jet. And how he went out of his way to accommodate the details, like giving up the window seat just so you could sit in it. He was an unusually thoughtful man, with everybody he knew.

That’s something you had to remind yourself of often.

He’s like that with everybody. He has an eidetic memory, of course he remembers the little details.

If only you knew how wrong you were. Spencer was a thoughtful man, there was no doubt about that. Sure he was gifted with an arguably incomparable memory, but unlike all the things he had no choice in remembering, he chose to remember the little details about you. To him you were the closest thing to a real life angel.

It was the way you were the only person he’d ever met, willing to sit there and listen to him talk for hours. You’d go out of your way to show interest in the things he’d share, even if you didn’t actually have any interest in it.

The way he could swear he saw stars in your eyes whenever he stole an opportunity to stare into them. They would burn brighter if accompanied with the sweet sound of your laughter.

He felt compelled to accommodate you. Especially when you light up the way you do from such minuscule actions on his part. Spencer loved being the person to bring out your smile, taking any excuse to try and coax one out of you. Even if he’d slightly inconvenience himself at times. His convenience mattered little to him because he knew how much you did for him too.

Every morning before work you’d make the trip to his favourite coffee shop, getting him scones and coffee exactly to his liking because you knew he had a tendency to skip breakfast. His favourite coffee shop was a fifteen minute drive from your apartment and an extra twenty from Headquarters. You went out of your way to deliver it to him, even reheating the coffee yourself before handing it over.

Spencer wasn’t alone in recognising your generosity. The entire sixth floor had noticed how both of you subconsciously performed acts of service for each other, even if nobody had brought it up to your faces.

“I know that look.” Rossi remarks, turning his head towards his raven haired co-worker, eyes on you and Spencer.

“Yea..I just wonder if they know.” Emily mirrors his actions as she gives her own comment on the sight just a few feet in front of her.

Neither of you realise you have spectators observing your conversation. You’re in your own little bubble at Spencer’s desk, the resident genius seated comfortably with his gaze on you as he speaks. Your focus is entirely on the man across from you, leaning in slightly, perched on the wooden surface.

“Because stomach acid in the human body is typically 1-2 on the PH scale, it’s capable of dissolving metals such as certain types of stainless steels. Razors for example! The Gastrointestinal Endoscopy journal shared that scientists found that the thickened back of a single-edged blade dissolved just two hours of immersion in stomach acid!” His voice went up a pitch as he spoke and you couldn’t help but smile.

“So theoretically, an unsub could use a razor blade as a murder weapon and potentially eat it to dispose of it?” It was a relatively dumb question, but you just wanted to keep him talking.

“Well, it’s possible, but realistically I don’t think a razor blade-”

“Sorry to interrupt my younglings,” A colourful Garcia appears in your bubble and cuts Spencer off, “but I am here to let you know that the team will be going out for drinks, on Rossi, tonight! No exceptions!!”

When your head swivels to Garcia, you also notice the gawking pair not far behind her, shuffling off when they realise they’ve been caught staring.

“I’ll come, but I won’t be drinking.” Spencer says with an awkward smile. They shift their sights on you for your response.

“Sorry guys…I already have plans for tonight.” You purse your lips together apologetically.

“What no! No, no, no! You know how rare these nights can be!” Garcia frowns and grabs your shoulders pleadingly.

“I knowwww…I’m sorry!!”

“Fine, fine, but at least share what’s keeping you busy tonight?” The blonde pokes.

You shift your eyes to Spencer, who’s just staring at you with a curious look and then back to Garcia.

“Well I have a date-” You begin, but are interrupted by a whispered squeal.

Garcia begins a response, but stops herself when she spots a nonchalant Derek Morgan heading towards the elevators. “We will discuss this in detail during Saturday’s girls night. For now I will accept your excuse and remind you to dress your sexiest! Now excuse me while I go and intercept my sweet chocolate thunder.”

She grips you in a tight hug and scurries off after Morgan. The atmosphere shifts slightly, as you meet Spencer’s eyes awkwardly.

“You have a date? Why didn’t you mention that” Spencer titters.

“I’m sorry, it just didn’t occur to me.” You try to lie, but Spencer’s expression gives away that he doesn’t believe you. “Okay, okay, I just didn’t wanna say anything because the last time I talked about one of my dates you got all weird and I didn’t want to upset you again.”

“Upset me? I was not upset.” He protests and folds his arms across his chest.

“Okay what would you call it then?”

“I wouldn’t call it anything.”

“Oh really? So you’re not upset that I’m going on a date?”

“Nope. Not at all. I’m interested actually, tell me about him.”

You eye him carefully, trying to figure out where his head is at. Spencer has a tendency to get sassy when he feels defensive.

“You’re interested? To hear about one of my dates?” You question with playful caution.

“Yes. I’m always interested in things about you.” He spills.

Your reaction to his words is immediate, a surprised jump in your features, but you manage to mask it almost just as fast. Spencer’s just as surprised as you.

“I-I just mean- you know? Because yo-you’re my best friend.” He tries to play it off.

There’s no way.

You think to yourself. Spencer definitely didn’t mean it in that way.

No he definitely didn’t. He just said so himself. You’re his best friend. Spencer Reid does not feel the same way about you.

It stings to admit to yourself, but it’s for the best. Spencer is a smart, handsome, wonderful man with so much to offer. You’re too much work, come with too much baggage, just too much.

“Yea, we’re best friends.” An affirmation more for yourself than him.

A silence looms as you stare at each other stiffly.

“Anyways, my date,” you decide not to linger on it for too long, “it’s with that guy I told you about, Nathan.”

“Nathan? Didn’t you go on a date with him last time?” A casual inquiry.

“Yea!” You squeak enthusiastically, grateful that he had reverted back to his light-hearted self.

This was something you deeply enjoyed about your friendship. The fact the two of you could flow back into casual conversation no matter what.

“So it’s a second date?”

“Yes! The first one went really well, so I thought why not agree to a second when he asked?”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

His approval should feel better than it does. For some reason, it makes you uneasy. Almost as if you don’t want him to approve.

He has approved though, meaning he isn’t against you dating other people. He doesn’t want you the same way.

“Really?” You want to be sure, scared that you might put him off again.

“Yes! Really! If you’re happy then I’m happy for you.” A fib that you were unaware of.

In truth, Spencer would rather crawl on the office bathroom floor than see you with some other guy. Fortunately for him, he isn’t actually going to be there to see you with this ‘Nathan’. So he doesn’t need to submit to such an awful torture. Maybe he’s being dramatic, you aren’t his girlfriend. He has no right to feel such a heavy drop in his gut.

Part of him really is happy for you. He wanted you to feel loved, even if it wasn’t by him. God, how he wished it was by him. If friendship is what he has to settle for to be near you, then so be it. Though at times it feels like it might kill him, you being the closest person in his life, but not close enough to the point where he could call himself yours.

“REID!”

Spencer jumps at the sound of Morgan’s voice, finding it difficult to focus on his current surroundings. He missed half the team scattering around to different parts of the bar, Morgan now his only company.

“What’s up?” His expression shifts to a tight-lipped smile.

“Where’s your head at man?” Derek probes.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I have never seen you this zoned out before. You haven’t checked back in since you sat down.”

It wasn’t intentional, but since you walked out the doors of the BAU all Spencer’s been able to think about was your date. You probably went straight home to get ready, pulling out all the stops to feel as beautiful as you are. For somebody that can never truly appreciate it, not like he can.

“I guess I’m just not feeling well.” A pathetic excuse. One Spencer finds himself making whenever he’s pulled out of his thoughts about you.

Morgan doesn’t believe him. Hell, Spencer doesn’t even believe himself.

“Kid. You know you can always talk to me right? About anything.”

“I know. I’m really just tired. Actually- you know what, c-could- could you just tell the others that I’m just not feeling great, I’m- bye Derek.” Spencer stutters as he rushes out of his seat.

He doesn’t even give the man a chance to respond as he makes his exit out of the bar. He’s lacking the capability to force himself to socialise. The knowledge of you on a date with another man was something he’s been able to handle, but a second date with a man was harder to stomach. You must like him if you’re willing to see him again.

The ride home feels longer than it actually is. How far had the date gotten? Were you enjoying it? Did Nathan make you laugh the way he could? Spencer might lose his mind. He wondered if you had given Nathan the privilege of touching you. Your skin always looked so soft, his heart panged at the thought. He felt sick.

You were his best friend. You trusted him. He shouldn’t think this way about you, feel this way about you. Unreciprocated feelings were something Spencer was entirely used to. He’d perfected being able to put the person at the receiving end of his affections in the back of his mind. To ignore until it went away entirely.

Why was it so much harder this time? There is no universe in which you would ever return his love for you. Which is why he needs to force himself to love you from afar. It was a fact Spencer reminded himself of repeatedly. And he would’ve kept at it, if he wasn’t interrupted by the sight of you standing in front of his door as he stepped up his apartment stairs.

“Hi!” His voice alerts you softly.

“Hi!” You squeak back, turning on your heel to face him.

He can’t help but note how heavenly you look. It almost knocked the air out of his lungs, except he noticed the poorly wiped tears glistening on your face. He didn’t ask about it, immediately. Instead he just pulled you in for a hug, something he rarely did with others, and unlocked his door as he motioned for you to enter first. Another thing to love about Spencer Reid.

You step inside, more than familiar with the deep green walls surrounding you. If the stench of liquor wasn’t enough, then the way you stumbled on your way to his couch was all Spencer needed to deduce that you had been drinking. A lot. He walks past you towards his kitchen, returning with a glass of water and painkillers you would definitely need later.

“Have you eaten?” He asks softly, handing you the glass of water.

“Um..” you take a sip and pause as you sigh, “yeah.”

The two of you just sit there, silently, stealing small glances at each other and averting your gazes before the other can notice. You know he’s waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to speak first. Except you don’t know what to say. You feel so embarrassed. He probably had better plans for tonight, but here you are, pestering him again.

“How long were you waiting?” He speaks up once he realises that you aren’t going to.

“Not long, I had actually just gotten there, your timing was really good.” You mumble, forcing an awkward chuckle.

“Did Nathan drop you off?” Spencer hopes that bringing up your date might give you enough courage to vent.

“No. No, I walked.” A resigned smile creeps on your face, not wanting to talk about your journey here. “How was your night?”

“Walked?? Alone?? Drunk??” The words seep out of him before he can hold his tongue. “Why didn’t you call me?!”

“I’m sorry! I just didn’t want to bother you!” You defend.

But you are bothering him. You’re bothering him right now.

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to hold back tears. Guilt creeps inside him. He knows that he’s not the source of your tears, but he didn’t want to make you cry regardless.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he takes hold of your hand and squeezes ever so gently, “we don’t have to talk about it.”

“Why don’t we play chess? You’re getting better at it, you know?” He adds, thinking of a quick distraction.

Chess was a favourite pastime of yours with Spencer. You pull your hand out of his grip and use it to rub the opposing arm, his touch overwhelming you. He was too soft with you. You suppose it’s why you seek him out so often. Out of all the men you’ve ever known, Spencer was the only one who knew you. It felt so nice to be known.

“Y-yea..yes. Please. Let’s uh- let’s play chess.” You stumble on your words, eager to think about anything else.

Spencer retrieves his mini chess board from his satchel and prepares the board between the two of you. Neither of you utter a word as you play your moves. You appreciate the silence, because you know that you can’t say or do the wrong thing.

“You’re going easy on me.” You break the silence anyway, scared that the silence might bore him.

“You’re holding back.” He argues and you finally meet his eyes for the first time since you started the game.

“No, I’m just drunk.” You counter.

“I was the one at a bar but you’re the one who’s drunk.” It’s a stupid comment, slightly cringy even, but he earns a genuine laugh out of you.

His dorkiness was part of his charm. Your laughter makes him smile. A comfortable silence fills the atmosphere as your eyes meet again. Spencer’s eyes were so beautiful, you could drown in them. Spencer in general was so beautiful, in every way possible.

“It’s your move.” He has to remind you, worried that if he’s allowed to look at you for two long he might do something really stupid.

“I-uhm- I had a shitty date.” You owe him an explanation for ruining his night.

He doesn’t respond, not wanting to say anything that might make you close up again. He wanted to be the person you talked to about your problems. He wanted to be your solace.

“It started really well. I thought I could see something more, but it turns out he just wanted the same thing as all the others. Thought that maybe if he got me drunk enough..but it obviously didn’t work” You try to lighten the weight of your words by laughing with them. “It’s probably for the best, you know? I don’t think it would’ve worked out regardless, I couldn’t stop-”

Stop comparing him to you.

Normally, Spencer is the one with the tendency to ramble, but the alcohol wasn’t making it easy for you to shut up. You just hope he doesn’t realise where you were headed with that statement. You kept comparing your date to Spencer. Everything Nathan did today was a direct reminder of things Spencer would never do.

“Check.” You choose to stop making a fool of yourself there.

Spencer’s breath hitches. Not because he picked up on what you hoped he didn’t, rather because he was concerned by the possible implications of what you said.

“Did he..did he try to-”

“No. Oh my God, no!” You cut him off before he can finish the thought.

His shoulders relax and the silence resumes. For the first time since he met you, Spencer found himself speechless. He didn’t know whether to comfort you or give you advice. Part of him felt selfishly relieved, at least he didn’t have to worry about some other guy anymore. The other part, the part that felt disgusted with himself for even thinking about himself right now, felt a mixed range of hurt for you.

It started with resentment for the negligence Nathan displayed with you and ended with sorrow for how easily you brushed off your hurt. While he ran all the possibilities of the best thing to say, you ran all the possibilities of leaving his apartment in the least inconvenient way for him, interpreting his silence as irritation.

He should be irritated, you’re disrupting his night.

You need to leave before he can tell you to. Just as you’re about to mutter some bull-shit excuse, Spencer gently cups your hand with both of his hands and locks eyes with you. His voice is so painstakingly gentle, your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“Nathan and anyone else who has ever allowed themselves to be blinded by their shallow urges is an absolute fool. Idiot. Moron. There aren’t enough words in the English dictionary to describe how stupid they are for missing out on knowing you as you are. I’ve experienced a lot of good things in my life, none have ever brought me as much joy as you do. I can’t even begin to explain how deserving you are of love and it’s heartbreaking to see that you’ve convinced yourself of the opposite.”

It’s your turn to be speechless. Of the list of things you didn’t expect, this wasn’t even on the list. You should have expected it. It was in Spencer’s nature to prove you wrong for underestimating his tenderness. He felt perhaps he went too far. Said too much.

“I-I just mean-”

“Why are you so nice to me?” Your heart feels like it’s lacking space inside your chest, tears threaten to build.

“Because you’re my f-friend.” He struggles to utter the last word.

“Friend..” You nervously laugh.

The meaning behind his words don’t register in your drunken state. All your focus is diverted to the feeling of his calloused skin on yours. The liquor in your veins awakens dazed boldness. One you’d be too wary of displaying otherwise. You allow your fingers to dance against his, an act of intimacy not reserved for friends. He doesn’t stop you either.

“You know…”

it’s almost not even a whisper,

“...if I wasn’t who I am…”

but Spencer was an expert in tuning out everything else to focus solely on your voice,

“...maybe you could love me the way I love you.”

And the world, as Spencer knows it, stops. Your words ring in his ears and he’s sure his heartbeat has become audible.

“Y-you love me?” He repeats, unable to suppress his need to hear those words again.

The validity of your confession doesn’t bear any weight until you hear it from him, your motions against his hand coming to an immediate stop. You shift line of sight to his face faster than you can blink, waiting for his reaction so you can scramble to save your friendship.

Parroting your words wasn’t enough, Spencer couldn’t believe it. He had never considered it feasible for you to love him. He had spent so many sleepless nights tormenting himself over the fact. He wanted so badly to cup your face and tell you about all the thoughts of you that consumed his mind. To say those three words back.

“You can’t love me.” Instead he said four words that strained your hope for salvation. He’d shoot himself if he had any realisation of what he had just done.

“No, of-of c-course, I meant like an- a- amazing fr-friend. You k-know, like the kind of bes-best friend you only mean once in your lif-life.” And you unknowingly shattered that hope in him.

Silence has never been more deafening. Neither of you can look away from each other. There’s so much to say but how can it be said now?

“Right. No, yeah. Of course.” He forces out.

A fake understanding between you two. The expressions canvassing both of your faces display anything but understanding. Though you’re no longer physically touching, you’re still holding each other in your view. A few moments pass and Spencer is the first to look away.

“You must be tired-” He starts.

You were still disrupting his space.

“Right, I’ll go-” You stand, ready to rush out the door.

“No-no.” He sighs. “Stay please. It’s late and you’re drunk-”

“No I’ve alrea-” You try to protest, not wanting him to go out of his way for you any longer.

“Please. I’ll feel a lot better knowing you’re safe.” He begs, not just with his words but his eyes.

“Okay.” You murmur. “But I’m taking the couch.”

Under any other circumstances, Spencer would have resisted you taking the couch. Today? He was utterly drained.

“Alright. I’ll get you something comfortable to change into while I set up the couch. You know where the bathroom is.” He sports a weak smile, unable to meet your eyes again.

He watches you disappear into the bathroom after handing you some spare clothes. He sets the couch with the pillows and blankets he’d reserved for you. He bought them after you’d slept over a few times at the start of your friendship, wanting you to sleep as comfortably as possible so you would keep coming back.

You’d just broken his heart into a million pieces, so fine that he’d never be able to put it back together whole, but he still couldn’t not exert the utmost care when it came to you.

In the bathroom, you fight back tears again as you fumble into his clothes. You’d worn this particular sweatshirt before, because you didn’t anticipate staying the night. It was never planned, often you two just lost track of time because you spent too long engaged in conversations. After a while you started leaving things at his place so you had an excuse to keep coming back.

You can handle just being his friend, but you don’t think you can handle not being anything to him. Was there something you could do so you didn’t have to stop coming back?

When you came out and saw your makeshift bed for the night, you felt slightly fuzzy inside. Spencer had already gone to bed but he’d covered the cushions of the couch with a thick blanket and two fluffy pillows. A fresh glass of water was waiting for you on the coffee table with the pills from earlier.

Maybe things were okay after all? Surely he wouldn’t have put as much care into your comfort if they weren’t. So why couldn’t you shake this feeling of dread inside you? Why did the air feel so thick?

You spend most of what’s left of the night awake, curled into yourself on his couch, muffling your sobs. You’ve ruined another good thing. Pushed away probably the most important person in your life. You knew he was too good for you, he could never feel the same way. You got greedy.

Just a few feet away from you, Spencer’s in the exact same position as you on his bed. No rejection has ever hurt as much as when it came from you. He knew you were drunk, he knew you could never actually feel the same way. But aren’t drunk words sober thoughts? Statistics definitely agree they are.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the pounding headache. Then the dry mouth. Spencer had left a glass of water, painkillers and a bagel on the coffee table. You reach for the pill first, hoping that the faster you take it, the faster it kicks in. As you practically pour the water down your throat, you see a little note next to the bagel.

“Paper work day at the office. Make sure to eat and drink lots of water. Will tell Hotch that you’ll be late/taking the day off. - Spencer”

Thoughtful as ever. The bagel was still warm so he must’ve left recently. It was strange that he’d left without waking you up like he normally does. Your first bite of the bread jolts the memories of the night before and it hits you harder than the headache. Your appetite faded and the remorse set in.

Shit.

You and Spencer have always been able to bounce back, but the damage you caused last night might be irreparable. Say Spencer does forget about it, can you? You always knew he couldn’t love you back, but you never imagined that he would forbid you to love him in the first place. As much as you didn’t want to face Spencer right now, work was the best place for you to be if you didn’t want to go mad thinking about last night.

You’d have to change into appropriate work attire first, so a trip back to your place was warranted. The whole uber ride back to your apartment you think of things to say when you see him. Things didn’t need to change. You had to apologise, obviously, but there had to be some way of apologising while maintaining normalcy. The best start was getting him his coffee and scones like you usually did.

Meanwhile at the office, Spencer was stuck on the same page of his file. It had never taken him more than a few seconds to turn a page, but he wasn’t actually reading the words. You took up every thought in his mind again. He wondered if you were awake yet, if you remembered the events of the night before.

“You know if I wasn’t who I am, maybe you could love me the way I love you.”

When he initially heard you say it, all he heard was that you love him.

“You know if I wasn’t who I am, maybe you could love me the way I love you.”

When he said it out loud to himself all he wanted to do was tell you how much he does love you, but the chance was ripped away from him just as fast as it was given to him. Did you even care? Or was it just an insignificant event to you? It was a lot easier to accept that you could never love him the same way before he had a taste of what it would be like if you did.

There was this moment, when your fingers were fiddling with his and you said those words, just a second where he experienced what it could be like. He can’t go back to how it was, not now that he knows how it could’ve been. In order to protect himself from unravelling completely he has to let you go. An impossible task, considering you work together.

“I brought coffee.” Your expression is tentative.

Spencer looks up to see you standing above him, holding his daily coffee and scones in hand. There are no traces of the night before to be seen on you. Your makeup is fresh and you’d clearly changed clothes. You looked perfectly angelic, as always. If it were any other day, your gesture would’ve made him feel like the most special person in the world. Today, it felt like the cruellest thing in the world.

“Do you wanna come with me while I heat it up? Or should I just bring it back to you?” You prompt.

“No.” He rises from his seat and pries it out from your hand. “I can do it. Thank you.”

Before you comprehend what’s happened, Spencer’s walked away. You try to follow him to the kitchen, but when you get there he’s nowhere to be seen. This seems to be a trend for the next few days. You find some excuse to try for conversation and he shuts it down after about one sentence. That’s if you’re able to get close enough to him for that sentence. It’s becoming more and more obvious that he’s avoiding you.

You decide to give him space after about a week of it, wishing everyday that you could go back in time and change things. Around the two week mark, he starts giving you the cold shoulder, not even so much as looking at you. He couldn’t look at you. It was taking everything in him to force himself away from you, but it was easier than being near you. You weren’t the only one who could feel this change in your dynamic, the team was just as confused.

They’d all tried to investigate the root of this shift, individually directing casual questions to both of you in conversations. You’d both just brushed it off, not wanting to be the burden of the topic. Spencer had been doing so well in keeping his distance, but eventually, Hotch made the decision that enough is enough.

The BAU was in Chicago this week, hunting down another unsub who thought he was too smart to get caught. This was one of those cases that would stick with you for a while, so tensions were already high amongst everyone. Nobody was more on edge than Spencer and now he was forced in a car with you, driving around the city, chasing leads.

Rarely did he ever get behind the wheel, but he knew he would need any distraction he could get. Driving was supposed to mean he wouldn’t be stuck in the passenger seat, fighting the urge to stare at you. Now he was fighting the urge to stare at you from the driver's seat. He hated being in love. You were trying your best to stay silent and looking out the window at the passing buildings.

“Are you hungry?”

That’s the first time in a month that Spencer’s been the first one to speak. He tried not to. Like he tried not to pay attention to your routine. It wasn’t possible. No matter how hard he tried, there were just some things Spencer couldn’t not do in regards to you. The most important thing was that he couldn’t not care.

He knew you hadn't been eating properly. You had a tendency to forget about your well-being during hard cases. You were probably hungry. Somebody had to take care of you because you most definitely weren’t going to. He was right. The thought of food made your stomach growl. It was wicked timing.

“No, thank you.” You lie anyway, not wanting to inconvenience him further.

“Why won’t you stop lying to me?” He mutters in annoyance.

“Excuse me?” You scoff, turning to look at him.

He doesn’t look away from the road, pretending to not have heard you.

“Seriously?” You sputter. “You’re ignoring me now?”

You huff as you throw yourself back against your seat. He didn’t mean to ignore you, he just didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t understand why you’re being like this.” You mumble.

It was already daunting when he was barely acknowledging you, but refusing to acknowledge all together? When you were the only person next to him? That was just vicious. You knew you’d fucked up, but was this necessary? You had already spent so much of yourself trying to keep it together, being confined in this car with him would waste your efforts.

“Pull over.” You say in the kindest way possible, which was immensely harsh. “Spencer Reid pull this damn car over or I swear to fucking God I am going to jump out of it.”

That definitely caught his attention. In all your time together, you had never spoken to him in that way. You had definitely never addressed him by his full name. He brings the car to a halt on the side of the curb and finally turns to face you. You push the door open and hop out, slamming it behind you.

“What are yo-” Spencer starts, but you’re already walking away. He quickly gets out and follows behind you. It doesn’t take him long to catch up to you and he stops you by the arm when he realises saying your name won’t make you turn back around.

“Don’t touch me!” You yank your arm out of his grip and keep walking.

“Where are you going?!”

“Anywhere you’re not.”

He tries you by your name again, but when it fails again, he grabs you by the shoulders and spins you around. You hadn’t noticed that you’d walked into an alleyway.

“Get back in the car.” He demands.

“I am not getting in a car with you.” You have never been this upset with him before.

“You’re being childish!” He snaps, rolling his eyes.

“Oh I’m being childish?! Spencer, believe me when I say I mean this is the nicest way I possibly can right now – FUCK OFF!” You push his hands off you and take a step back, but he just grabs your wrist.

“Listen to me,” he urges, “there is a serial killer that’s kidnapping women in broad daylight, torturing them and murdering them. And he’s threatened each of us individually during the course of this investigation. You cannot just be walking around alone, in a city you hardly know.”

“Don’t explain the details of this case to me, I’m well aware.” You snarl, your irritation increasing tenfold.

“Then why are you being so difficult?!” He screeches.

“Why are you–fucking hell, I cannot keep doing this. I’m not getting in the car when you won’t talk to me. Hell, you won’t even so much as look at me!”

“Fine! You wanna talk? We’ll talk! Just–get back in the car. Please.” He sighs in defeat. You still don’t budge, so he pleads softer. “Please.”

You take a deep breath and roll your eyes, stealing your wrist out of his grasp. Spencer doesn’t move until you do, both of you silently making your way to the car.

You’re both silent initially, not knowing where exactly to go from here. There’s one thing you know for sure, you won’t be the first to speak. Spencer catches on to that fast.

“What do you wanna talk about?” He snarls, shrugging his arms.

“Cut the shit, I won’t get back in this car if I get out for a second time.” You’re not in the mood. The two of you had avoided this conversation for long enough, it was now or never. Some part of you wished for never.

“Fine. Did you mean it?” He shoots, briskly.

“What?” You didn’t know which part he meant.

“That you love me specifically as an ‘amazing friend’, I believe was your wording.” His voice cracks and it causes a shift in his behaviour. He’s no longer hostile, just hurt.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

In your rush to get him talking, you hadn’t actually realised that you weren’t ready to talk about this. You were stalling.

“Answering a question with a question.”

This doesn’t feel like a conversation. More like an interrogation, except you’re the unsub. He scoffs bitterly at your silence.

“Spencer, don’t–”

“No, you’re the one who wanted to talk! You were so insistent, in fact, that you would have rather made yourself a serial killer’s target then get in a car with me if I didn’t talk to you. And all of a sudden you’re speechless?” He snaps at you.

“Yes! I was the one who wanted to talk! I just– I can’t understand what I’ve done to make you hate me so much? Was it because I said I love you? Did it really upset you that much?” You were both shouting from frustration.

“You think I’m upset because you love me?!” Spencer scoffs in disbelief.

“Aren’t you?!” You bitterly laugh.

Spencer rubs his temples and squeezes his eyes shut, mumbling some under his breath. He’s genuinely never been this frustrated in his life.

“Are you being serious?” His voice strains in pitch, as he tries to keep himself a lot calmer than he feels. “Is this some sort of joke to you?”

“Some sort of joke–”

“Do not interrupt me again. You wanna run away from this? Fine. But you will listen because I will not have this conversation again.” His tone is sharp, like a blade being held against your throat. It definitely shuts you up.

“Talk. Okay, let’s talk about how I have spent the last four years watching you allow undeserving men to walk all over you, letting them treat you like you’re worth nothing. I damn near drove myself insane trying to figure out why. Why is it something you accept for yourself? And then I realised– that’s how you see yourself. You actually hate yourself so much that you’ve convinced yourself you deserve it! Do you realise how infuriating that is?!

Especially because it’s the furthest thing from the truth! Still, I watched you throw yourself into this vicious cycle over and over again. You gave yourself away to those idiots, knowing that they didn’t have good intentions, but you still hoped it would be different every time. I mean you’re a fucking profiler for God’s sake! How can you expect others to love you if you can’t even love yourself?

That’s not even the worst part! You’re so desperate for their acceptance that you continuously neglect the acceptance you already have from the people who love you. People like Emily, Penelope, Derek– the team– people like– people like me. I mean I’ve always known that you didn’t love me as anything more than a friend, but your constant reminders feel like a punch to the gut! Is it that embarrassing for you to love me as anything more?

I’ve survived way worse things, but this is the cruellest thing I’ve ever been through. Because it’s coming from you! I just never expected it’d be from you.” He’s practically hyperventilating for air by the time his speech comes to a stop, the vein in his forehead more prominent than usual.

Your jaw is tense and restless, twitching from anger. Some part of you still wants to keep this friendship. The louder part knows that there’s no going back from this. You’re not entirely sure you want to go back. Your entire body is shaking from rage. The first rule of your friendship was no profiling. Not only did he break that rule, he used the profile against you as if you actually were an unsub he was interrogating.

“That’s not fair”

His eye twitches at your response.

“Not? Fair?” Spencer grumbles in pauses.

“No, that's not fair!” You cry out. “It’s your turn to listen.”

It doesn’t feel like there’s any oxygen left to breathe in the car.

“Self loathing? Spencer, that's your projection! You love too hard and nobody’s ever loved you back the same way. But just because you lack things you want in your life doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me! And all this talk about love, but none of it makes any sense. You think I’m embarrassed of loving you? Is that how shallow you think I am?! You’re the one who told me that I can’t love you. God, you are the most duplicitous person I’ve ever met! I can’t believe I didn’t see it. You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder because I love you as an ‘amazing friend’? Because you love me and you think I’ve been neglecting you?!”

You had never spoken to anyone this way in your life. There was so much truth to Spencer’s words, but he had no right. He’d touched every nerve in your body without ever laying a hand on you. Up until roughly twenty minutes ago, being seen by Spencer was your favourite thing in the entire world. Now? You’d never hated the feeling more in your life.

Spencer squeezes his hand into a fist, knuckles going white and releases his fingers like if he were aggressively squishing a stress ball. If asked about a month ago, he would never in a million years think that your friendship would manage to dissipate in just a few seconds. He didn’t think he could associate the word love with you anymore.

“Let’s get one thing straight. I do not love you. I do not love anything about you. Actually, I hate you. I hate how sweet you pretend to be. I hate the stupid morning coffee you bring me, nothing tastes more bitter. I hate to admit this but you’re right; everything about you is a brutal reminder of all the good things I can never have and I despise you for it.” He spits his words out with extreme tension in his blood vessels.

“I can’t say I’ve known what it feels like to truly loathe someone before I met you.” You fire back, breathlessly, not having it in you to spare any more words for him.

You’re not exactly sure how long the two of you have been sitting there just glaring at each other. Only when Spencer’s phone rings do you two look away.

“Reid.” He answers the call. “Yea, she’s still here. We’re on our way back now.”

The ride back to the precinct was silent. Even as you regrouped with the rest of the team, you acknowledged everybody but each other. The team was instantly alert to the change, but no one mentioned it at the time because of the high stress of the case. You wrapped the case up a few days later and only then did the questions start making their way around.

“Is everything okay between you two?”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“What happened between you and Reid?”

“What’s up with Boy Wonder over there?”

You didn’t entertain any of them, Spencer had taken up enough time in your life. You refused to talk about him, look at him or acknowledge him at all. He shared that same incentive. Another three weeks passed as the team watched what was once the closest duo in the BAU, pretend that their counterpart didn’t exist.

If one of you was in a room and noticed the other enter, you’d walk out without drawing attention to the situation. When leaving the room was not an option, you either went as far in the opposite corner of the room as you could or you’d simply pretend the other wasn’t present just a few metres away. You wouldn’t discuss intel with each other about cases, sharing your findings with anybody else.

Since Chicago, Hotch only assigned you with Spencer once more, but quickly realised that wasn’t going to help when both of you begged to be assigned with someone else privately. If you were in a discussion with someone and they started talking about Spencer, you’d tune out entirely. After a while the hating game got exhausting.

Spencer hated pretending that he hated you. He felt an immense amount of guilt for the things he’d said, but it was too late to take it back. He thought it would be easier to deal with his feelings if he wasn’t around you all the time, but it was just as difficult as before. You still lit up the dull grey rooms of the building. The only difference was that now he had to watch you shine from afar.

In truth, you didn’t hate Spencer either. What you actually hated was that you didn’t hate Spencer. You still caught yourself staring at him for long periods of time. There were days when you’d go to his favourite coffee shop before work and buy his order, only to give it away to somebody on the street because you didn’t want to ruin Spencer’s day with the bitterness of your coffee.

By the fifth week since you had gotten back from Chicago, you and Spencer were no longer ignoring each other as much. You’d gotten into a routine of professionalism for the sake of the team, only talking to each other about cases when necessary. That didn’t stop you from subconsciously showing subtle gestures of love. These were a lot quieter than the gestures you showed when you were friends.

You’d make sure that there was always a fresh pot of coffee in the office kitchen, so Spencer would have it ready to drink whenever he needed. He’d make sure that the snack cupboard was always filled with your favourite snacks because he knew you liked having something to munch on when catching up on paperwork. You’d keep extra painkillers in Garcia’s lair knowing Spencer would retreat there when a migraine hit.

He’d ensure the aircon was always set to room temperature, you get uncomfortable if the room was too cold. Both of you were aware of the little gestures too, no one else knew your truly niche preferences. Neither of you was brave enough to actually go up to the other, though. It was all too much for you. No matter what was said, he was still your thoughtful Spencer deep down and it killed you.

You’d tried to talk to Spencer a few times, building up the courage for days in advance. As soon as he noticed you heading in his direction, he nearly bolted in the other direction. His avoidance didn’t end at the office. You recently became aware that Penelope had been scheduling rosters to invite you and Spencer to outings, trying to ensure you were present for equal amounts of time.

You were chilling at her desk in wait for her, when you noticed a little note with your name next to a date and time. Under that was Spencer’s name with a separate date and time.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” She greets you.

“I needed to talk to you…Penelope what is this?” You hold up the little pink sticky note.

Penelope sets her octopus mug down and takes the note from your hand.

“This? This is nothing.” She fumbles a bit as she speaks.

“Garcia?” You purposefully speak with warning.

“Okay! Okay! But you didn’t hear it from me! We’ve kinda been taking turns hanging out with you and Spencer sometimes. But it’s because we love you and don’t want to make either of you-” She starts a panicked tangent.

“Garcia!” You interrupt her before she sends herself into a spiral. “There’s no need to do all of this. Yes Spencer and I aren’t close anymore, but you guys don’t need to go out of your way for us.”

“Well..” She grits her teeth and tilts her head.

“What?”

“We didn’t really mean to. It’s just we noticed that Spencer would never come if you were going. And both of you just straight up refuse to talk about it, so this was the best we could come up with.”

“Oh. Penny, I’m sorry that you guys have had to do that.” That was all you could say, your head hanging in guilt.

“Can you at least tell me why you won’t talk about it? I mean it makes sense for Boy Wonder, he’s always been stubbornly private, but you’ve never not told me anything!”

You look towards Garcia again, thinking for a minute. You didn’t know exactly why you refused to talk about it.

“I don’t know, honestly. I just don’t want to talk about it, if that makes sense?” You pull your friend in for a hug as an apology.

You felt awful leaving her lair without giving her a proper answer or a resolution. It didn’t matter how professional you acted, this rift would always impact your friends and your work life.

Spencer would always impact everything in your life.

The guilt didn’t spare you that night, creeping its way to the forefront of your mind every few minutes. It had been four months since your last fight. It was the longest you’d gone without Spencer. This had to end for the sake of the team. That was how you found yourself standing at his door once again. After a few minutes you finally knock. You didn’t know what you were going to say, honestly you just wanted to run before he answered. You hear the locks being undone, but it’s not Spencer who answers when that door finally swings open.

“Yes?”

It’s a woman, one you've never seen before. You’re taken aback and look around to make sure you got the right apartment. This was definitely Spencer’s apartment, you’d been here a hundred times before. And some woman was answering his door for him. Some very beautiful woman.

“Can I help you?” She follows up, looking you up and down.

“Hi, yeah, sorry, is–um– is Spencer here?”

“Who’s asking?” She’s definitely not very friendly.

“We work together. Is he here or not?” You didn’t have the patience for this, annoyance seeping through your pores.

“Who’s at the door?” His voice emerges from behind her and he finally shows up. “Oh.”

“Hey.” You glance away as soon as you see him.

“Could you give me a minute?” He turns to the woman. She flashes a sickly sweet smile and kisses his cheek before disappearing inside. Spencer shuffles out to the corridor, closing the door behind him.

“That–uh–that was–” He stops himself, clearing his throat and switching to his professional voice. “What are you doing here?”

Cold.

“I was hoping we could talk.” You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to play off what you just saw.

“What more is there to say?”

“About the team. I came over to, um, apologise and maybe move past things for the sake of the team.” You were looking everywhere but at him.

“Honestly?” His eyes are on you though. “I don’t care. And even if I did, I don’t want to hear it.”

He starts to walk away, but turns back and mentions your name like it’s the most vile word in the dictionary. “Please don’t come back here. It’s hard enough at work, I don’t want to see your face in my personal time too.”

With that he re-enters his apartment, leaving you standing in the hallway. It’s hard to imagine that this man was once your best friend. If you didn’t know about all the good times, you wouldn’t have believed it. Every tear that your body could ever produce streamed out of you for the rest of the night. Once you had made it back to your apartment, they broke out in sobs. In your line of work, you had survived being shot at, almost blown up and even a kidnapping once.

The man you loved with every fibre of your being looking at you like you were less than filth under a person's shoes was your breaking point. There was no way you were going to face him again. You needed to forget about Spencer Reid, which meant a fresh start. This city was a constant reminder of his essence, you couldn’t stay. You plopped down on your bed with your work bag, reaching into it for your work computer. Hands twitching as you type.

You remember being so proud when David Rossi recommended you for the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit. You were even more ecstatic when Hotch actually requested your transfer there. You had worked your ass off for it. It was there that you met the infamous Doctor Reid. He was much different than how you had imagined him. He was so charming, friendly and so down to earth, not liking him wasn’t an option. The two of you had so much in common, despite being so different, it was the foundation for your friendship. His caring nature pulled you in further, you soon found yourself deeply in love with him.

Tears flooded your keyboard as all your memories with him flash through your brain. His friendship was a beautiful bonus of the job you once loved, you never thought that he would become the reason you’d leave it. Yet here you were, furiously drafting your resignation to Agent Hotchner. There were so many signals in your brain telling you to back off, to open a bottle of wine and drown your sorrows instead, but your heart didn’t feel like that would be enough. Your love for your job didn’t outweigh your desire to run.

Spencer Reid was your best friend and being in love with him is an excruciating torture. One that you can no longer endure. You had never been more sure of anything as you are at this moment and you weren’t going to give yourself time to change your mind. Your time with Spencer and, as a consequence, your time at the BAU had come to an end. Another memory flashes through your mind as you sign the letter off with your name. A case in Boston had gone wrong and you were really hung up on it. Spencer, in an attempt to help you move on, shared a quote with an author he had recently read. You bitterly chuckle to yourself at this recall and press send with no second thought.

“Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point in order to move forward.” - C.S. Lewis.

Spoilers: BAU! Reader, friends to enemies, mutual pining, hurt, angst no comfort, whump (maybe idk), Reader & Spencer are both idiots, they should probably consider therapy actually, Spencer is a sassy little shit, but really just needs a hug and a class on communication.

AN - You’ve heard of enemies to lovers/friends, now I present to you the exact same thing in reverse (been done time and time again, I’m not in any way original <3). You can blame Ariana Grande for this one. Sorry that I haven't posted, I've had insane writers block. I might be slightly incapable of shorter word counts, I’ll try to improve that. I apologise for grammar/anything that does not make sense, I am both an idiot and also was dealing with a bad case of the flu when I wrote this. I’d like to thank @reidmotif for curing my writer's block and inspiring me on the second half of this fic. Thank you @starstruckbambi for proof reading this.

Drop thoughts & feelings so I can ponder on them. Always remember that I’m in your walls.

Thank you for reading!

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kquil · 2 months ago

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JAMES POTTER | GENUINE

SUM. : your boyfriend finally takes a role who has a romantic interest but his expression is hardly convincing; only you can get a genuine reaction from him

LENGTH : 1.8k

TAGS : actor james potter au ; modern au ; muggle au ; singer reader au ; actor/director sirius black au ; actress marlene mckinnon au ; fluff ; celebrity couple goals ; james can't do romantic roles ; he's too loyal!

“CUT!” Sirius shouts and James drops his shoulders in disappointment, his expression of ‘hopeless love’ also slipping off his face. This is why he wasn’t suited for romantic roles. As Sirius shouts for everyone to take a short five-minute break, James catches Marlene sending him a sympathetic look before moving to her chair with the help of her make-up team, who lifted the heavy skirt of her wedding dress for easier movement. “Come on James, what’s gotten into you?” Sirius asks, making his way over as Remus touches up James’ hair and suit.

“I’m trying Sirius,” the actor sighs, “I think I just need a break to collect myself and then I can finally get that winning take for you,”

“You better,” Sirius playful threatens, “I know you’re a lovesick fool so I know the type of infatuated expressions you can pull. Just try to emulate that and you’re golden, okay?”

‘It’s not that easy if it isn’t her…’ James was tempted to protest but settled with a simple, “Okay…” satisfied, Sirius walks away with Remus to discuss some things with the camera crew while James leans against the set’s alter.

As an actor, James should find it easy to perform his characters’ expressions and emotions, his stardom and recurring roles in thriller, action and adventure films were a sentiment to that. However, his current role requires romantic displays, something he had actively avoided in his acting career.

Characters that had passionate, romantic and intimate scenes were roles James tended to avoid primarily due to his endless loyalty to you, his childhood sweetheart. As young teens, you and James fell in love long before your successes. Since then, you have only grown a deeper love for each other, fostered by the hardships that came with your dreams of becoming a singer and his of becoming an actor with Sirius.

His best friend eventually divulged into directing his own films whilst James continued expanding his career as an actor — as much as he’s able to with the number of scripts he’s dropped for their romantic interests and amorous scenes. It didn’t sit right with him having to kiss another girl let alone look lovingly at someone that wasn’t you. He felt like a cheat. Many, including Sirius, however, have told him that it was part of his job but James was insistent on making no exceptions. He respected you and the love you shared too much. The same way you would play your own love interest in music videos while wearing a short wig and masculine attire. It was a show of mutual respect you both had for the other before and after your relationship became public.

The only reason James had taken on this role was due to Sirius’ insistence as the director, the lack of intimate scenes as well as the dominating adventure, and fantasy genre. It would all be underpinned by small heartfelt moments with his character’s love interest played by his close friend Marlene McKinnon. The two characters’ love story will end in tragedy, haunted by the trope of ‘right person, wrong time’. James believed he could convincingly play his loving expressions only brought on by you in the rare, romantic moments his character shares with Marlene’s but it’s proving harder than he originally thought. Simply thinking about you wasn’t enough…

Mulling over his character’s story, James imagines you in Marlene’s place. He only had three minutes remaining to focus on how he should convey his character’s ‘hopeless love’ convincingly.

To concentrate, he closes his eyes and thinks deeply, ignoring the sudden scuffle and whispers around him. On an adventure to rescue his unrequited love’s significant other, James selflessly volunteers to aid in her quest, protecting her and cherishing her throughout the arduous journey, putting his life at risk for a girl who would never love him back. Unselfishly, he continues forward without drawing any attention to the deep love he holds for her, the audience kept in suspense of his mysterious ambitions— that is, until the dream sequence. In his sleep, influenced by the surrounding, foreign plants’ effects, James dreams of his ideal future, one where he gets to marry his love, who will reciprocate his feelings wholeheartedly. It’s the moment all audience members realise James’ true motivations, encouraging a swell of heartache amongst them when they are forced to accept the reality his own character is made to face: that he cannot be with his love no matter despite his efforts. Her heart belongs to another and if he were to fall for the plant’s trap, he will never wake up from his heavenly dream-come-true and become living fertilsier to continue the plant’s life. The heartache of that realisation is further emphasised when James doesn’t stop loving her in his own, silent and benevolent way.

This is going to be a big moment for James’ character; he needs to put his all into this!

Before he has the chance to open his eyes, however, James is already being led to his spot on the set by Remus. The brunette informs him that the short break is over and instructs him to start before his turn to face Marlene.

“Again, the shot’s focus will be on your face, James, Make it a good one,” Sirius instructs from his director’s chair and, with a small pause cues for the start of the hundredth take.

Opening his eyes gradually, as if waking up from a dream, James takes a moment to analyse his surroundings. He meets the eyes of his groomsmen, shooting them a confused look before slowly turning and raising his gaze. He’s become familiar with Marlene in her wedding dress now so her off-centred placement doesn’t deter him. He also fully trusts in the team, if they saw it fit to make any changes, he’ll help follow through. Marlene is only slightly off centre, he realises, to accommodate the camera’s view of his expression more clearly. James fully expects to only see Marlene, however, when he finally raises his gaze, in the distance, he sees you by the camera.

And James immediately smiles.

He completely forgets where he is, rather, he savours the warmth that fills his chest at the sight of you, the burst of elation in his brain when he sees you smiling at him, dressed in his oversized sweater and your casual jeans. You’re not in a wedding dress nor dolled up the same way Marlene is for the take but you’re just as gorgeous. There’s a tingling itch in his fingertips to reach out for you and he almost does but stops when he remembers where he is and what’s happening around him. His look of sweeping joy and deep affection falters ever so slightly but is completely captured by the camera’s close-up shot. James’ internal berating of another failed performance barely begins when Sirius is suddenly cheering in delight.

“CUT! AND PRINT!” Sirius claps and laughs at the success but James is left blinking in confusion. Did he hallucinate you? He looks in your direction again. No, you weren’t a figment of his imagination, you’re really here! “Finally! That was what I was looking for! Great idea on putting her beside the camera, Moony,”

Remus nods his head in graceful humility as you giggle from where you stand. You had planned a surprise visit for James and called Remus beforehand for access to the set. It was the perfect surprise considering you had barely seen each other the last few weeks; he was busy filming with Sirius and Marlene while you were recording songs for your new, up-and-coming album. That only seemed to add to James’ favourable reaction, however.

“BREAK!” Sirius announces with a wink directed at you, “Let's give the two love birds a moment, as thanks for finally getting the job done. Let’s give it ten!” it seemed as though succeeding after multiple failures had made Sirius a little too happy and laidback but who was James to complain? As Marlene knowingly smirks at him, he runs past and launches himself at you. With a squeal, you return his embrace and giggle into his shoulder.

“I missed you…” he whispers into your crown.

“Surprise!” you announce despite the lateness and giggle again. Music to his ears.

“Thanks for helping me with my scene, love,” he pulls away with deep affection swimming in his hazel eyes and he cups your jaw while resisting the urge lean in and kiss you endlessly. He loves the sound of your voice just as much as the feel of your lips against his own so, for now, he’ll willing listen. He can taste your sweet lips later.

“I didn’t really know what was happening but I’m happy to help,”

“You’re so cute,” he sighs and finally pulls you into passion-filled kiss before you can utter another word. "I can't believe you're my lady,"

"Your lady?"

"Yes," James giggles and kisses your cheek again and again and again, "my lady, the same way, I'm your man,"

"Mmm, sounds good," you utter against his lips, "I'll have to feature you in my new music video then~"

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

“...tell me about that scene. It was such a big moment for the audience and your character. How did you manage to look so in love but then so heartbroken?” the interviewer asks, smiling but tilting his head in curiosity when Marlene burst out laughing.

“Oh, this is such a good story!” James looks away, unable to meet his co-star and friend’s mischievous smirk and glimmering eyes, “Can I tell him?” she doesn’t even give him the chance to answer before ingeminating the tale, “James couldn’t get that moment right for multiple takes. We were all getting tired of him, really. But since Sirius knew he was capable of being a love-drunk fool, he persisted for over an hour! And this is just for a one minute section of the film!” James finally chuckles despite his flustered expression when Marlene makes a side comment about how the wedding dress was a chore to wear for such an extended period of time and didn’t appreciate James’ slow uptake, “there wasn’t even an after-party for me to let loose in, my supposed ‘groom’ had his brain elsewhere,” the two share a laugh and James picks up on the story.

“Elsewhere, meaning my girlfriend. She actually planned a surprise visit during filming and was brought in by Remus. He put her right by the camera and the reaction you saw on film was my reaction to seeing her instead of Marlene.” his co-star coos at how adorable he is whenever he’s around you and gossips with the interviewer about how cute of a couple the two of you make behind the scenes.

“Is that why you’ve become her love interest in the music videos for her new album?” the interviewer asks impromptu. He’s on the edge of his seat and is a clear fan of your music, which makes James happier than if the man was to say he was a fan of him.

“Naturally,” James smiles to himself, “she did say I was the inspiration for her love ballads,”

NAVI.

A/N : this was inspired by this tiktok and a daydream i had! the anime is called 'Frieren: Beyond Journey's End', I've never watched it but it was on my fyp, i did some exploring and, now, here i am (๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑) i hope you darlings enjoyed the read!

#james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #james potter x fem!reader #marauders

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happy74827 · 6 months ago

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A Smile From Hell

[Homelander x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite the amount of unpredictability The Homelander has, he still catches you off guard with something as small as a smile.

WC: 3576

Category: Angst, Supe!Reader {TW — Homelander for obvi reasons}

In honor of Season 4’s weekly releases, this one is for the Antony Starr girlies (and you @summerrivera777777)

『••✎••』

John fucking terrified you.

He terrified everyone, really.

He had the power to level an entire city block with a glance. He was strong enough to crush a man's skull with one hand and fast enough to catch a bullet. He was an unstoppable force of nature. He was The Homelander, and he was a threat to anyone who stood in his way.

But, the thing was...

You knew everything about him. Everything.

And he absolutely despised that, but there was nothing he could do to change it. You had seen him at his most vulnerable and pathetic. You had seen his humanity, it’s amazing he still has any after the way Vought has abused him, and you had seen his inhumanity.

Jessica, or Sister Sage, had confronted you on several occasions, trying to get you to tell her your secrets. She wanted the upper hand on her arch nemesis, the only one in the world who was a threat to her. It was her mission to end the reign of the superhero she hated most, and she was willing to do anything for it.

You could see right through her, and you didn’t need magnificent amounts of intelligence to do so. You could see the fear in her eyes. You could see the doubt in her face, hear the strain in her voice, feel her uneasiness when she was near him.

John knew it, too. He just simply chose to ignore it. He had grown used to being the scariest man in the room. It’s been that way his whole life, and it seemed it was going to stay that way.

But, despite all that fear, she came to you for answers. Again.

And this time, the question was a simple one. It was so simple, yet completely understandably complicated.

How are you allowed to live?

That was a question that stumped you. It took you a long time to grasp the meaning of it, the specific answer she was looking for.

After a few clarifications, you finally understood what she meant.

She wanted to know why John allowed you to live. She wanted to know why he hadn’t killed you. She wanted to understand why you were the only person alive after calling him by his name.

Not his stage name, his real name.

For being the most intelligent person on the planet, you’d think that she’d be able to understand it. I mean, the answer was right there, in front of her face. She didn't need to be a genius to figure it out; all she needed was a little more insight.

A little bit of understanding.

"Respect," you said, your voice soft. Your words were clear, though, and she heard them perfectly.

The confusion on her face was evident, as was her disbelief.

"What?"

"It's respect. Anyone I respect is someone that deserves my respect."

She snorted.

"Right," she said. "Like he could actually respect anything other than himself."

"He's capable of it if that's what you're thinking," you told her. "And this isn’t about him respecting me; it's about me respecting him."

She narrowed her eyes at you, her suspicion rising.

"Why would you respect him?" she questioned. "You're not blind; you know exactly who he is."

Yes, you did. You knew more than most, and compared to The Seven now, you probably knew the most. His actions? Completely unredeemable. He was, in fact, a monster; there was no arguing that. He was a horrible, twisted, monstrous individual; no one would deny it.

His actions weren’t excusable, but he had an explanation. A reason for why he was the way he was.

He wasn’t born a monster; he was turned into one. That… that was the respect part. You respected him because you respected his story. You respected his pain. You respected his anger.

You respected his past; anything after that was on him.

"I don’t like using stage names to those I respect enough, so I call him John. He allows it because he knows I don’t mean it the way others would if they used his name; it doesn't hold the same power with me."

She rolled her eyes at you.

"Same goes for you, Jessica; I have no desire to call you Sister Sage."

Her flinch was barely visible, but you still caught it. Again, what is intelligence if not knowing the chances of a particular outcome?

"I’ve noticed you don’t call Deep or that fire chick by their real names."

You just smiled, leaving her to solve that answer for herself, and it didn’t take long at all. You knew the exact moment she came up with a conclusion. She was quite predictable, in that regard. Maybe you should’ve been the big-brained hero instead.

And now, you really should’ve been because when you turned down the hall, catching wind of the elevator doors opening, you knew he had listened to it all.

But you didn’t say anything, and you really didn’t say anything after a simple glance at him.

He was completely drenched in blood, a look that would terrify even the toughest of men. But not you, oh no, you were very used to that. He’s done a lot worse.

Besides, you were too distracted by the fact that the blood wasn't his. Too distracted by noticing how this time was different. He was smiling, but it wasn’t his usual cruel smile. This time, it was genuinely happy.

Relief, almost.

It reminded you of the night you two bonded. No, not that type of bond. The bond that told you both that you weren’t alone.

He had a friend, but he wasn’t really your friend. You don’t believe you could ever consider him one. Not really, not with the things he has done.

But, still, you were the closest thing he had to a friend. You were the closest he had to an equal, a person he could relate to. Jessica carried the same intelligence (obviously a lot more), but the similarities between the two of them stopped there.

You had a similar history but different outcomes.

And that reveal between the two of you happened that night. This was way back, even before Starlight joined. Back when The Seven was in its prime.

Stillwell threw a party, something she always loved to do before Teddy became her focus. It was the usual: people in fancy dresses and suits, lots of champagne and liquor.

The difference, however, was the main focal point. Usually, given Vought’s status, all of The Seven members were the main event. Everyone was mandated to wear their hero outfits. It was a great way to advertise and get people to buy more of the products.

The theme this time, however, wasn’t about the group. It wasn’t about any of you. For the first time in a long while, John wasn’t in the spotlight.

Due to this, Stillwell banned everyone from wearing their costumes. No capes, no spandex, no leather, no masks. Just suits and dresses.

It was nice, actually. A little break from the norm. It felt good to go a night without the tight leather on your skin. You were actually surprised at how well it was received.

The rest of the members of the group seemed to be having a wonderful time as well.

Except for one.

He was standing in the corner, glaring at everyone. Madelyn had an entire argument with him about the suit. You weren’t there, but you knew exactly how it went.

His costume was a part of him. It was a symbol. It was a mask. A representation. An embodiment of who he was. Without it, he was a naked target.

Madelyn clearly did not give a single shit. In the end, the argument resulted in the two of them getting into a screaming match, causing him to storm off in a fit of rage.

So, there he was, standing alone, seething at anyone who passed him. Madelyn won; of course, she did, and she didn't even bother trying to apologize. She wasn't sorry.

She was just mad that he refused to listen in the first place.

But, hey, that wasn’t your problem. You were enjoying yourself. The night was going pretty well; the alcohol was flowing nicely, and the music was just right. You were dancing and laughing and having a great time.

But, of course, things weren't always easy for you.

You weren’t expecting it to last long; you weren’t one to have good luck. You knew, deep down, that the night was going to come crashing down on you. You were just waiting for the ball to drop.

The ball dropped the moment you decided to go cheer up the sourpuss.

It was obvious the way his shoulders tensed, and his head tilted ever so slightly. He knew you were approaching. He was aware.

"Don't," he said.

He was clearly angry, and you weren’t smart enough not to push. This is where Jessica’s powers would have benefited you greatly.

You ignored his warning, walking up beside him, mocking his stance.

"You okay?" you asked, your tone soft and light, a hint of playfulness.

His eyes flicked over to you, and the glare he gave was terrifying. His eyes were so intense, and his teeth were clenched. You could see his jaw tensing.

He was a volcano, ready to erupt.

You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

"I'm fine." Humorously enough, it sounded like the opposite.

"Really?"

He turned his head to look at you, his anger increasing by the second.

"Don’t you have anything better to do?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm choosing to talk to you."

He looked away from you, grumbling, "And why's that?"

"Because you’re ruining the party," you answered. "Miserable face and all."

He rolled his eyes. He actually does this a lot, believe it or not. It's the only expression he has besides anger that isn’t fake.

"And why do you care?"

You shrugged again. "I care about enjoying myself, and I can't do that when you're moping."

He turned his head towards you. He was not amused.

"Go find someone else to entertain yourself with.” He pointed behind him. "I’m sure Deep will be glad to show off his fish facts."

That one caused you to make the same face he had moments ago. The absolute look of disgust on your face was enough to bring a smug grin to his own.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Don't make me throw up, John."

The name.

It was a simple slip-up, nothing more. But, of course, it meant so much more. This was before everything, so it doesn’t seem likely that a slip-up like that wouldn’t result in consequences, but it secretly was a turning point.

He could've killed you.

He could've easily grabbed you and thrown you across the room, and no one would be able to comprehend what had happened until after you were unrecognizable.

He didn't, though.

No, instead, he stared at you, his face blank, and his mind processing. You were nervous, of course. You had no idea what was going on in his head.

After a minute, a look of realization came upon him, and you could see the exact moment the gears started turning.

Then, a simple hum fell from his lips. One said he wasn’t expecting it but was deciding whether to accept it.

Then, after a few seconds, his face relaxed. His jaw was unclenched, his eyes softened, and his eyebrows relaxed.

"Let’s have a chat."

Uh oh. That’s a code red—a sign of danger.

You were so done.

And yet, for some odd reason, you followed him. You don’t know why. It was a stupid move, in your opinion. You should've run while you had the chance. You should’ve listened and just punched fishlips or something.

You didn’t, though.

You followed him, allowed him to fly you somewhere private, and just waited. You waited for your imminent doom. You were going to die; you were sure of it.

But, for some reason, your death never came.

Instead, the two of you landed on the tower’s roof, the cold New York air hitting you hard. He had set you down on your feet and went all the way to the railing.

You stood awkwardly, waiting for him to turn around with those beams in his eyes, but they never came.

He was just looking out into the city, his back turned to you, his hands on the railing.

After a few minutes of silence, he turned his head, looking at you through the corner of his eye.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

Ask what? What was there to ask?

There were plenty of things to ask, actually, and yet you had no idea what the right thing to ask was. Because, again, even here, he was unpredictable and unreadable.

You didn't want to anger him; you knew that for sure. But you were also tired of his mind games. It was a constant battle of wit, and you were sick and tired of being left in the dust.

So, you chose something simple to say. Something easy, yet not so simple to answer.

"Are you going to kill me?"

You wouldn’t be surprised if he turned around with a smile and answered yes.

He didn’t, though. Oh no, he stayed turned, staring into the city, his eyes searching. Searching for what you didn't know.

"No."

Simple and clear.

You didn't respond, and he didn't elaborate. It was silent, and it was cold, and it was a tense moment.

But you didn't leave. You just watched him, watched his movements. The way his shoulders hunched over, his head tilting down, the grips on the railing, the way his hair slowly became unstuck due to the wind.

You always thought his hair looked better when it wasn't slicked back, but this is the first time you've ever seen it that way. It was… it was nice.

Then, his shoulders relaxed, and his head straightened. He didn’t turn around, and he didn’t speak. He just looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes piercing yours.

Even with a few strands of hair on his face, his eyes were so sharp and clear. So blue. So cold.

It felt like they were reaching deep into your soul.

It was terrifying. He was terrifying.

"Do you remember your parents?"

The question took you by surprise. It wasn’t what you were expecting, but then again, this whole encounter was the definition of unexpected.

"Yes. Why?"

His eyes scanned yours as if looking for a lie. Then, he turned back around, leaning on the railing.

"I can't remember mine," he said. "Sometimes I wonder if I even had them."

Oh. Oh. This was huge. This was a big one. You had to search deeply even to find out his actual name. Now, here he was, telling you of his past.

Of all people, he chose to tell you.

You didn’t know how to feel about that.

You were honored, yes. You were excited, definitely. But, most importantly, you were worried. Is this him letting you in? Or is it him preparing you for your demise?

It was an unknown territory, a field of landmines. You knew a lot about his past already, but now he was aware of the fact that you knew. He knows, and yet he is still giving you the information.

Why?

"I mean, it doesn't make sense. Everyone has parents, right? And I couldn't have been born out of nowhere. So, I must have had parents. A mom, a dad, some form of guardians."

His face was scrunched, and his eyebrows were furrowed. You could see the way his brain was working. He was really thinking about it, wondering how the pieces fit together.

He was struggling to make a connection, and he was mad at himself for not having it.

"I'm assuming your childhood wasn't the best," you said. You knew it was a risky move, joking about his past, but so far, he seemed to like the boldness and humor.

And he did, in fact, let out a snort.

"Understatement of the year."

You smiled but quickly stopped. It was a serious conversation, and smiling probably wasn’t the appropriate reaction.

Silence filled the space again, and he was back to thinking. He was trying; he was really trying. But he just couldn't.

It wasn't the fact that his parents were a mystery; he's come to terms with that. It was the fact that he couldn’t remember anything.

All he remembered was the torture, the pain, the experiments… nothing about how he got there. Nothing about the people before the scientists. Nothing about a home. And the fact that they were currently building a fake one for him made him so angry.

It was a mockery—a complete joke.

He felt all of these emotions and yet couldn't express them.

And he was frustrated. He was pissed off and tired and angry and sad and empty and-

"Did you rip off your tie?" Your eyes had caught sight of his bare neck, the black fabric missing.

It was the only way to pull him out of his head, and, to your surprise, it worked. You could see the moment he snapped back to reality, the moment he was pulled away from his mind.

"Yeah," he answered. "It was suffocating me."

You could tell.

His hair became more unkempt due to the wind. The strands of hair on his forehead were getting in the way, and it was getting annoying. Not for you, no, but for him.

For you, it was… humanizing. It made him seem a little less like a god.

He lifted his hand, his fingers gently combing through the locks. It was a struggle, a normal struggle that you've had with your own hair.

Plenty struggle with deviating the locks away from their desired location. You've had your own fair share of moments.

But this was the first time you'd seen him experience it. The first time witnessing him do something so simple and basic.

Such a human thing. It had you wondering what else he was capable of.

He sighed, his hand dropping back to the railing. Again, it is a normal thing to happen. But, it had you smiling, the corners of your mouth curving ever so slightly.

The action did not go unnoticed.

"What?" he asked, not even bothering to turn around.

You shrugged. "I've just never…"

Your mind kept changing images. His hair, his eyes, his shoulders, his jaw, his nose, his ears, his neck, his hand, his lips, his chin, his cheekbones, his eyebrows, his skin…

Everything is listed in your mind, including the little imperfections and details that make him, well, him. This was the first time you saw him anything other than perfect.

The perfect monster he was, the god of all men. The man of the century, the one to take the world by storm. The strongest, the smartest, the best.

The symbol, the image, the mask.

The facade.

This was the first time you saw him as just a person. A human being. Just a regular guy.

"Sometimes I wonder how different life would be if you were…"

Normal.

The word was at the tip of your tongue. You could've said it; you should've said it. It was the truth. It was obvious.

But you couldn't.

He knew where your sentence was going, though. Of course, he did.

"If I was… what?" He still wanted to hear it. He was looking for validation, and he wanted it from you. His eyes were on you, his body turned, but there was this one odd thing.

A smile.

It wasn't his usual one. The one you were used to. The one that made everyone scared and uneasy. No, this was a real smile.

A soft, small one, but still a real smile.

A true smile. As if he knew the words you were going to say, as if he knew your thoughts, and he found them amusing.

You found him amusing.

And just because of that, you didn’t give him the validation.

"It’s fucking freezing out here," You coughed in hopes of successfully changing the subject. "I’m gonna get a jacket."

He was going to argue, but you were already walking off, telling him you’d take the emergency ladder down.

Nothing was spoken about that night. No words were exchanged.

But something had changed. Something had shifted. You weren’t quite sure what it was, but it was something.

So, seeing that genuine smile again in that elevator was a shock.

He had the same face as he did on that roof. It was that smile. That one specific smile.

Capable.

That's what it was.

He was capable.

He was capable of feeling and being human. He was capable of being something other than a monster.

He was capable.

All he said to you when you walked by was a simple goodnight. Something so small, yet so big. This time, those words seemed to have a little more meaning.

So, just to raise his unsettling mood, you winked and said, "Goodnight, John."

Again, a smile.

The smile.

It was hard to continue walking, and it was even harder not to turn around. But you did.

You did it knowing you were going to have a hard time sleeping. Knowing that, no matter what, you weren’t going to forget that smile.

The demon that still had a little bit of humanity in him.

A demon that was capable.

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nonsensology · 1 month ago

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Later at the wish granting ceremony, CEO Magnifico announces he’s greenlit Ice Age 6 and five more live-action remakes.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

There are so many cancelled and unrealized projects that Disney is sitting on, that they do not benefit from in any way by keeping them locked up tight. They really ought to just let them go if they don't have any intentions of doing anything with them.

Incidentally, I could never agree with the mentality of “Magnifico is actually the hero, and Asha is the TRUE villain” that a lot of people seem to have. I drew my comic based on this post. I feel like if more people had been aware of this possible interpretation, they wouldn’t have sympathized with Magnifico.

Does Wish have bad writing? Yes, it does. And it’s because of that bad writing that every single character suffers. What I think happened is that, as a result of said bad writing, Asha became a character that’s so uncompelling and lacks uniqueness that she ends up a blank slate for audiences to project their frustrations with the movie onto. King Magnifico on the other hand, is probably the most interesting and entertaining character, due in no small part to Chris Pine’s performance, and so the audience is much more sympathetic towards him and willing to ignore his flaws.

One of Asha’s problems as a character is that she doesn’t really contribute much to the story. By contrast, Magnifico’s downfall is brought about entirely as a result of his own actions. Magnifico is in fact not a good leader, because he gives in to paranoia and temptation, acts in a very unprofessional manner, and escalates the conflict to an absurd degree.

Please note, Asha does not get upset that Magnifico refuses to grant her grandfather’s wish, nor does she ever demand that Magnifico needs to grant every wish. She gets upset that he insinuates that her grandfather might have dangerous intentions, and because he does not have a convincing reason why he doesn’t return wishes that he won’t grant. Rather than calmly explaining his reasoning to her, Magnifico rudely dismisses Asha and then blows up at her.

If Magnifico were a good leader, he would have explained to each person WHY he won’t grant their wish, and given them advice on alternatives. As it stands, he knows full well that everyone expects their wish to be granted. It’s why they even came to Rosas in the first place, it is the literal reason he even built his kingdom. He clearly makes a big spectacle out of the wish granting ceremonies, which every citizen visibly goes wild for. He never elaborates to anyone his specific standards for the wishes he chooses to grant, other than a broad statement of "for the good of the kingdom". In his regard, Magnifico reminds me of bureaucratic systems that never provide every option or solution upfront, with their logic being "you didn't ask".

Not to mention, he literally tells Asha, "People think wishes are just ideas. But no, no, they are a part of your heart. The very best part." He knows, for a fact, how important wishes are to everyone. But the movie's awful writing makes him think the best solution to dealing with wishes that MIGHT have dangerous consequences, is to just hoard them. All that returning the ungranted wishes will accomplish is returning the memory of what the wish even is, that's literally it, and the people will be no better off than they were before they gave Magnifico their wish.

I dunno about you guys, but whenever I watched stories that preached “be careful what you wish for”, my takeaway was never “your desires could be dangerous and you should never pursue them for fear of disaster”, I always thought the stories were telling us, “beware of anything that promises instant gratification, because it’s usually too good to be true, and will cost you more than you will gain”. While the things you want in life may have disastrous consequences, you won’t really know until you try to pursue them through your own honest efforts, and not through “magical” shortcuts. That’s how we learn and grow, through trial and error.

As it currently stands from my point of view, when people say "Magnifico has every right to keep ungranted wishes" it looks like they're unintentionally saying, “The Disney Corporation has every right to keep your work and ideas, because you willingly and legally handed them over. Tough luck if you regret the deal you were given. No takesies backsies!”

While I have found no evidence to confirm that the filmmakers intended for Magnifico to be a criticism of Corporate Disney, considering the inclusion of the animation sweatshop scene in Pixar's Inside Out 2, I think the probability is likely. (Not to mention, when Asha shows Magnifico her little flipbook animation, he dismissively remarks “Do we consider that a talent?”)

Please note, everyone is free to rewrite and reinterpret Magnifico however they want. He's just a fictional character after all, and fan content is supposed to be for fun. I just think it's funny how defensive people get over him a he appears in the final movie. They say he deserved better, and I agree, but we have very different ideas of what "better" means. In fact, I think every character in Wish deserved better, because again, they were all victims of bad writing. My problem isn't that they took a good man and made him arbitrarily "evil", it's that they didn't make him evil enough from the very beginning. Remember those deleted scenes featuring a villainous Magnifico with better writing, along with an evil Amaya that he can play off of? I'm fairly certain that everyone unanimously agreed these deleted scenes were much better than the final movie, and yet some still insist that Magnifico should have been a hero all along. I dunno, it's a funny dichotomy.

EDIT: A few days after posting I came across this video essay supporting the interpretation of Magnifico as a critique of Corporate Disney and I loved it. Please go watch it!

#disney critical #disney wish #wish movie #wish 2023 #king magnifico #asha #nimona #newdeal4animation #wish asha #unpopular opinion #revised to add some extra thoughts

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rowie264 · 8 days ago

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If someone criticizes something, it doesn't mean that they hate it. It also works the other way around. If you like something, it doesn't mean that it's done well from an objective point of view.

I love Jinx. Her design, her story, her personality, her character arc... I was just fascinated by her. Jinx has become one of my favorite characters in media in general. It was the continuation of her story that I was waiting for the most.

Jinx is still my favorite character in season 2. I love almost every scene with her. How she did Sevika's arm and the subsequent fight with the Smeech, the fight with Vi in Act 1, the prison break, search for Vander in the mines, epic appearance during the battle against Noxus.

I got a lot of positive emotions while watching s2 and especially during Jinx's appearance on the screen. But… an emotional response and objective assessment are two different things. And objectively, Jinx's character in season 2 is OOC and poorly written.

Removing very importand part of her story and personality. Her mental issues almost completely disappear. This is a very important aspect of her character. And no, Isha's presence and a "more favorable environment" would not heal her, the whole 2nd act is completely unrealistic and looks stupid, since all her problems with her mental health were magically solved off-screen;

Irrelevant piece of plot. Her arc of "Zaun symbol" passes by her - she becomes a symbol by accident, ignores the consequences and directly encounters all this revolutionary mood only during Isha's saving from Stillwater (at the same time saving her followers - an indirect action, not a purposeful one). So this arc is kinda about her, but she doesn't seem to participate in it herself, and it ends with literally nothing (like the whole Zaun revolution);

Making her more appealing to wider audience. Her hatred of Piltover and Caitlyn just disappeared. Yes, while she was with Vi in the mines she said "piltie goons who murdered mom and dad," but… that's all? Jinx doesn't kill a single enforcer in the entire 2nd season (although, for example, she could have in Stillwater) and tells Caitlyn "I didn't know your mother was there." Let me remind you that Jinx literally giggled in s1 when she killed a dozen enforcers during gemstone kidnapping, killed enforcers on the bridge without any care, she hated Caitlyn fiercely because she "stole" her sister from her, and she couldn't not know that Cassandra was a councilor. It isn't showed how and why she changed her opinion and this is important thing to her character, you can't explain such change with microexpressions or parallels;

Unrealistic happy family reunion. The reunion of Jinx, Vi, and Vander is a spectacular moment from Disney. Do you remember how Jinx reacted when Vi returned? Yes, she was happy but as soon as she spotted Cait she freaked out and immidiately thought that Vi betrayed her. Imagine what would happen if her supposedly dead - bc of her btw - father had returned and now looks like some animal;

Silco mattered much more to Jinx. A very "subtle" replacement of Silco for Vander in the role of father (Jinx calls him father, sniffs Vander's jacket and not Silco's), although Silco played probably a bigger role in this? And Jinx remembers about him like 2 times? Although it's been about 7-10 years since Vi's "death" in season 1, Jinx was still triggered by just a similar appearance. Apparently, Silco wasn't that important to Jinx (which is not true); I could still keep talking about Jinx, but let's leave it at that.

I love Jinx even in season 2. I like watching scenes with her. But my emotional attachment doesn't stop me from seeing that Jinx's character in s2 is not a continuation of Jinx's character of the end of s1. Her image is broken, the arcs are not completed, the relationships with other characters are poorly written.

#arcane #arcane s2 #arcane critical #jinx #jinx arcane

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monstersflashlight · 7 months ago

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Hey, I was wondering g if you could make a sleeping in the dark part 2? If it's okay to ask could you possibly do a chubby!reader?

Crying in the middle of the night in the darkness but the minster comes out to think reader is crying because of the dark. Reassuring her that it's oka and the dark isn't scary but, reader then explains that she wasn't crying because of the dark. The monster gets all confused and asks why she was crying. Reader tells the monster that she was insecure abt her body, then further explains that's she's been being treated badly in her work/school environment by her peers because of her body/looks.

Thank you if you respond, I mean it could be a she part and not part 2 but again, thank you.

-🦝 anon.

Hi 🦝 anon! I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this. I really wanted to do justice to this request. As a chubby woman myself, I know perfectly well the struggles of being fat in a society that doesn’t like fat at all. I try not to make any comments about the body of the reader if it doesn’t play a part in the action bc I want ppl to imagine themselves there as they want. Even when the monsters use terms as “little human” think about it like the monster is so big you are tiny, doesn’t matter how big you are in real life. I love a good size difference, so there’s that. I hope you don’t think this means you need somebody to tell you you are pretty, beautiful or hot, because that’s not true, you are all that without anyone saying it. Believe me, as someone who likes boys, girls, and everything in between, fat bodies are hot like burning. But I do get the necessity to hear it sometimes, and this story is born because of it. That said, I hope this is as cathartic for you as it was for me, this short hit really close to the heart for me. <3

Part 1 if you haven't read it

Sleeping in the dark (part 2)

Night monster x chubby fem!reader || orgasm denial || tw: fatphobia

You were, once again, crying in your room, ugly sobs that made it hard to breathe and your heart beating faster. You felt his presence before he could make himself known. “Oh no, little human, I thought we went past the fear of the dark.” His tone was so soft you felt your heart skip a beat.

You sniffled against the pillow, “is not that.” You tried to tell him more, but another sob broke from your chest.

“What do you mean?” He seemed confused at your statement, like there weren’t any other reasons why you could be crying about. You guessed as a monster in your closet he probably didn’t know much about the horrors of the world. He lived in a bubble of darkness inside your room, after all.

“They- They called me fat,” you told him in between hiccups.

“Who did?” His tone sounded dangerous. You looked up from your pillow, trying to see something in the dark of your room. You could see his silhouette, but nothing else. You wished you could turn the light on, but you didn’t want him to go.

“Some random dude from the office. They called me fat. They thought I wasn’t listening but they called me fat and made fun of me. I thought I was past that, but there’s always someone that reminds me how ugly my body is.” He growled at that statement. You ignored it and kept talking, “they always tell you to love your body, but when it comes to being fat, they want you to hate yourself. And I try to fight it, I try every day, but sometimes is just too much.” You sobbed again, he touched your knee and you felt his arms closing around you two seconds later. “I just want to be pretty.” You cried against his chest, your voice muffled by his skin. He growled and you felt it against your teary face.

“Don’t say that. You are pretty, you are beautiful, you are the most beautiful human,” his voice was filled with desperation for you to believe him.

“You have to say that, you’ve only seen me,” you joked. The laugh you let out was swallowed by the sob that broke free right after.

“You are wrong.” He touched your skin, wiping away some tears with his thumb. “I’ve lived thousands of years, I’ve known many humans, some of them have known me. You are beautiful. You are perfect.”

“No, I’m not. But thanks for saying that.” He flipped you onto your back so fast you let out a scream. He tore your clothes apart and you felt him caressing every inch of your skin at the same time.

“Beautiful,” he told you. He touched every part of your body, caressing your skin like you were a work of art, whispering endearing words against your ear. He told you every single compliment you could think of, and then some more.

It felt wrong to feel like that, you felt like he was lying, but he couldn’t be. It felt like he was forcing you to acknowledge every single cell in your body. It felt like he was pushing the words in your soul, trying to imprint them there so you wouldn’t feel ugly never again. You cried, at every single word, a tear ran down your skin. He didn’t wipe them out, he let you cry as he caressed your skin. When he parted your legs and positioned himself there, you kept crying.

Your pussy was so wet, and your soul felt so raw.

He started slow, licking your wet lips, playing with his tongue all over, but where you wanted him the most. He never shut up, telling you how pretty you were, how wet, how wonderful for him, how perfect. You were rapidly approaching to an orgasm when he said: “Say nice things about yourself if you want to come.” You shook your head, grabbing his head and trying to push him to eat you out again. “Say it,” he ordered. His voice was hard and commanding.

“I- I can’t,” you cried out. There was no way. You didn’t feel it, it wasn’t true. You weren’t pretty. You weren’t beautiful. His words seemed like a lie, but his actions spoke volumes. One of his hands never stopped caressing your soft tummy, your wide hips. His other hand played with your pussy, thrusting in and out in a tortuous way.

“Say it!” He insisted, his tone angry as he pushed two fingers into you forcefully. You cried out, almost there, so close but so far.

“I- I’m pretty,” you whispered, tears rolling down your cheeks. He rewarded you sucking your clit into his mouth, the touch of fangs against your vulnerable flesh made you shudder.

“More,” he ordered.

“I’m beautiful.” Each word was rewarded by his fingers rubbing perfectly inside of you, a torture like any other, driving you insane with pleasure. “I’m hot.” Each word he forced out of you felt like he was taking a weight from your chest. You felt like you were going to float away.

“Yes. Yes, you are.” He kept playing with you, getting you close to the edge just to go away when you stopped talking. He forced you to be nice to yourself, to say all the things you didn’t believe you were. But he did, he believed. And for the moment, that might be enough. He thought you were beautiful, he thought you were hot. Maybe… maybe he was right. He never lied to you.

You were lost in your thoughts and the pain-pleasure he was giving you when he flicked his tongue over your clit as he hit your G-spot. “Come for me, pretty human. Show me how perfect you are.” And you did, falling apart around his tongue and his fingers. The attack on your senses crashing down onto you.

You had an out of body experience, the tears cool against your cheeks, your rapid breathing coming into short exhales as he played with your pussy to drive you further up. You came so hard you think you saw stars. You felt boneless, your body and your soul completely spent. You felt him cleaning you with a soft cloth, your eyes closing already.

“I will stay with you,” he murmured as you were falling asleep. You felt his arms closing around you, his hands caressing your body, from your wide hips to your soft tummy… He made you feel special, he made you feel beautiful.

#part 2 #monster #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster x human #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #terato #night monster #night monster x reader #night monster x human #fem!reader #tw: fatphobia #🦝 anon

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blackenedsnow · 3 months ago

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I have never requested before I hope I'm doing this right. You can feel free to ignore this.

But can I have Billy and stu (separate or together is your choice), Bubba Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, Micheal Myers (original or Rz are your choice), Jason Voorhees, Norman Bates, and Billy Lenz. You don't have to do all. I don't really care who or how much you do. But them with a reader who takes care of their younger sibling. Kinds like the oldest sibling being a parent of their younger sibling

You can choose the age and gender but I would prefer a male and 4 year old kid but it doesn't matter. I just haven't really seen much of this and would really like more. I love your writing btw. Again you don't really have to do this and I feel like this request is long but just wanted to write it

slashers with a reader who takes care of their younger sibling ; headcanons

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Billy Loomis x Reader, Stu Macher x Reader, Bubba Sawyer x Reader, Thomas Hewitt x Reader, Michael Myers x Reader, Jason Voorhees x Reader, Norman Bates x Reader, Billy Lenz x Reader

NOTE: I’m so glad you love my writing! Your request is perfect, and I really enjoyed putting this together for you. Hope you enjoy!

BILLY LOOMIS

At first, Billy's not sure what to think.

Kids are loud and messy, not really his thing, but he’s intrigued by how seriously you take your role as a caretaker.

He gets protective over both you and your little sibling in his own way.

He doesn’t interact with the child much but will keep an eye on them, especially if things seem off.

Billy admires your strength and responsibility

He didn’t grow up in the best family environment, so seeing you take on that parental role makes him respect you even more.

If you ever need help with your sibling, he’s reluctant but won’t say no.

He’ll watch over your little sibling in his way—just don’t expect him to read bedtime stories.

STU MACHER

Stu doesn't really care for kids, but your little sibling is an exception.

He’s the chaotic big brother type, always joking around, making silly faces, and playing rough

...in a way your sibling enjoys.

He’s surprisingly great at distracting your sibling when you need a break, even if it involves a bit too much sugar or wild games.

Stu admires how you handle your responsibilities, but he’s also the type to encourage you to let loose and have fun with your little sibling.

He'll say something like

"Being a big sibling can be fun too, y'know!"

Sometimes, he’ll get your sibling involved in harmless pranks—nothing too serious, just enough to make you roll your eyes at the bullshit.

BUBBA SAWYER

Bubba has a natural, gentle side that shows around your little sibling.

He’s great with kids because of his own childlike nature and will immediately want to help you out with your sibling.

He’s protective but in a soft, nurturing way.

He’ll help with basic care—making sure your sibling eats, plays safely, and feels comfortable.

Watching you care for your sibling touches something deep in Bubba.

Family is everything to him, and seeing you take on that role makes him feel connected to you on a more emotional level.

Your little sibling will probably love Bubba’s playful, kind-hearted nature, and they’d get along well

Almost like having a second big sibling!

THOMAS HEWITT

Thomas is awkward around your little sibling at first.

He’s not used to kids, and his intimidating presence might scare the child a bit.

Once you show him how to be gentle, though, Thomas is (not surprisingly) good at it.

He’s careful and protective, and though he’s not talkative, his actions speak volumes.

He respects your role as the older sibling and quietly supports you in whatever way he can.

He’ll help carry your sibling, fix things for them, and even craft toys if necessary.

Thomas feels a sense of admiration for how you juggle being a caregiver.

It reminds him of the family dynamic he grew up in, where responsibility was a big part of survival.

MICHAEL MYERS

Michael is eerily silent around your little sibling, but he watches the way you care for them with curiosity.

He doesn’t fully understand the concept of caring for someone, but he’s fascinated by your commitment.

He won’t actively interact with your sibling, and in some strange way, he becomes protective of both you and the child

Like he’s observing a small piece of humanity that he’s long forgotten.

Michael doesn’t interact much with your sibling, but if anyone or anything threatens them, Michael steps in without hesitation.

He’s drawn to your strength as an older sibling.

It doesn’t make him soft, but it earns you a twisted sense of respect in his mind.

JASON VOORHEES

Jason has a soft spot for children due to his own troubled childhood.

When he sees how much you care for your little sibling, it stirs something in him.

He’s fiercely protective, acting as a silent guardian over both you and your sibling.

He doesn’t speak, but his presence is always there, watching to make sure nothing bad happens.

Your little sibling isn’t scared of Jason for long.

Once they see how Jason watches over you, they warm up to him.

Jason might even offer small gestures of kindness, like finding things in the woods for your sibling to play with.

Jason admires your strength and responsibility, seeing you as a protector like himself.

It forms a quiet bond between the three of you.

NORMAN BATES

Norman is gentle and polite around your little sibling, offering to help with anything that might make things easier for you.

He’s fascinated by the idea of family dynamics and your role as both sibling and parental figure.

It reminds him of his relationship with his own mother, in a twisted way.

Norman tries to make things comfortable for your sibling, offering snacks or games to keep them occupied.

He’s surprisingly good at calming your sibling down during tantrums.

However, there’s always a sense of unease around Norman.

His overprotectiveness can feel stifling at times, especially when he becomes too involved in your sibling’s care, as though he sees you as part of his own family.

BILLY LENZ

Billy is unpredictable, and your little sibling might be a bit nervous around him at first.

Billy has strange behavior, but he never intentionally tries to scare your sibling.

He doesn’t understand kids well, but once he realizes how important your sibling is to you, Billy makes an effort to be less creepy around then.

There’s a strange protectiveness that comes over Billy when he sees you caring for your sibling.

It’s almost like he’s trying to impress you by not being chaotic around the child.

He’ll watch your little sibling from a distance, occasionally making weird, quiet noises, but he’ll stay back unless you need help.

If anyone threatens you or your sibling, though, Billy’s unpredictable nature can quickly become dangerous.

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ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral · 4 months ago

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And I'm back with Part 3 of the "Merlin accidentally conquers Camelot" au! Thank you all so much for your patience and continued support for this story! It makes me so happy to see people get excited by my silly (and occasionally delusional) au ideas!

NOTE: You can find part 1 here and part 2 here.

EDIT: And you can find part 4 here!

And without further ado, onto the new stuff!

It was rather drafty in the lesser furnished cells of the dungeons. Merlin knew this well, as he had spent many nights during his first couple of years in Camelot trying and failing to get any sleep on the cold stone floors of those cells, kept awake by the freezing chill that would sweep through the dungeons at any given moment.

Merlin also knew that Arthur had never been kept in one of those cells, even on the rare occasions that Uther had him locked up for going against his orders. Whenever Arthur had to be put in the dungeons, he had been put in the fully furnished cells, meant for prisoners who were members of noble families.

Even when they were held in the same dungeon, the nobles and the peasants were subjected to wildly different experiences.

With that in mind, Merlin stopped by Arthur's chambers (or... were they his chambers now? Merlin certainly didn't want to think about that.) to grab Arthur's favorite blanket off of his bed. It was a luxuriously soft blanket, dyed a rich Pendragon red. That blanket was fit for a king and a pain for a manservant to wash, but Merlin had always taken good care of the blanket, knowing how much Arthur liked it.

Merlin folded up the thick blanket with meticulous care, ignoring both his own trembling hands, rendered unsteady by the volatile emotions welling up in him, and Gwaine's presence behind him, silent for once. Despite Gwaine's undying loyalty and penchant for mischief landing Merlin in an even worse situation than before, he seemed to understand the solemnity of Merlin's actions and the profound sense of grief over the life he had lived once before that had been so suddenly torn away from him.

The motions of carefully folding up the blanket filled Merlin with both comforting familiarity and near-crippling sorrow. Would he ever do this again, ever provide support and comfort for Arthur again? As much as Merlin wished to stay optimistic, even if his plan to reinstate Arthur as the rightful king of Camelot succeeded, the darkest corners of his mind hissed that Arthur would never tolerate his presence again, let alone trust him, after usurping him and, in Arthur's eyes, proving everything Uther had ever said about sorcerers to be true.

Merlin's heart plummeted, nearly stopping him in his track towards the dungeon entirely, at the mere thought of what Arthur must think of him now: a treacherous, conniving sorcerer who had manipulated Arthur into becoming his friend only to betray him. Merlin blinked, banishing his tears before they could roll down his face and fall onto the blanket in his arms, and forced his feet to keep moving steadily forward. No matter what Arthur thought of him now, how deeply Merlin has unintentionally wounded his friend, or how catastrophically Merlin's world felt like it was crumbling down around him, he needed to set things right.

Merlin clung desperately to that conviction, the thrumming need to set things right again, as everything else in him wanted to curl up in a dark corner and never move again. After an eternity and yet all too soon, Merlin descended past the gates of the dungeon, where he forbade Gwaine from following him any further, down the noble cell blocks, which were filled with sleeping, but thankfully uninjured knights, and finally through the dark, damp, empty, and cold peasant cells.

He couldn't see Arthur at first, but his magic sensed that he was here. Like always, it jumped, tugging on Merlin to act, whenever Arthur was nearby, causing Merlin to pause his step in order to focus on whatever his magic was attempting to do. This time, it tugged his attention towards the unlit torches lining the walls of the cell block. Light them, his magic seemed to beg of him, our king is cold!

Merlin's immediate reaction was to stop his magic, to push it down so that no one would notice, and, after a deep breath, he did just that. As Merlin stood still, holding Arthur's blanket in his arms and cherishing what would likely be the last few seconds that he could ignore what had happened over the last day and pretend that everything was normal, he heard the voice that he'd been both yearning and dreading to hear for the past day coming from the cell at the very end of the dungeon.

"If you're waiting to sneak up on me, you'll have to try harder than that. I can hear that neither magic nor a crown have made you any more stealthy, Merlin."

Merlin flinched backwards, expecting but yet somehow still unprepared for how much vitriol and bitterness Arthur hissed out his name with. He had heard Arthur yell out his name in variety of tones over the years, ranging from annoyed to bemused to downright furious, but he had never heard his name pass from Arthur's lips like this, spat out from his mouth like it was poisonous and vile. It caused so much hurt to well up in Merlin's chest that he felt it like a bruising punch, causing him to wince in pain, still hiding where Arthur could not see him.

As Merlin stood silently, only a few steps away from Arthur's cell and facing Arthur's well-deserved fury, and tried to desperately blink away the tears gathering in his eyes, his magic abruptly tugged his attention towards the torches again, more insistent this time. Letting out a stuttering breath, Merlin obliged with his magic's request this time, and the torches lining the walls burst into bright, golden flames in an instant, filling the cells with a merry warmth that felt entirely out of place.

Merlin heard a sharp gasp coming from Arthur's cells as soon as the torches lit up by themselves and winced. Right, Arthur was fresh off of Merlin's betrayal, so he was probably pretty jumpy, especially around magic.

Merlin's guilt rose alongside his frustration. Everything he does with his magic, he does it for Arthur, and yet every single damned time it backfires on him and somehow hurt Arthur! A spell meant to heal his father kills the king instead. A battle waged to ensure his continued reign steals his sovereignty instead. And lit torches meant to provide him with warmth and comfort scares him instead!

But before even more guilt could build up inside of him, Merlin heard Arthur's voice once more.

"I won't be scared by a coward of a sorcerer who would steal everything from the man he claimed to serve! Or is the great Emrys too important to even face the fool he tricked into believing that he was his friend?"

Before Merlin's mind could even process Arthur's words, his feet were already carrying him to the end of the hallway, right to the front of Arthur's cell. He needed to prove Arthur wrong here, their years of friendship weren't a lie or a trick, Arthur needed to believe that! Too much of Merlin's life, his very soul, was woven into his bond with Arthur, he couldn't let Arthur have any doubt that their bond was even real!

As he finally arrived at the door to the cell that held Arthur, Merlin's heart stuttered again, this time with grief. Based on the ferocity in his voice, Merlin had expected to see Arthur pressed up against the bars, ready to battle his perceived opponent. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of Arthur, sitting alone on the dirty stone floor, his face wearing the same dejected and defeated look it had just days earlier, after Morgana had taken the citadel and Arthur doubted his own ability to rule his people. The only difference was that the lost look in Arthur's eyes from before was gone, replaced by a scornful glare that had Merlin feeling like he was the scum of the earth.

Merlin opened his mouth, ready to apologize, plead for forgiveness, whatever it took to just stop Arthur from looking at him like that, like Merlin was his enemy, but no words could form in his mouth, as too many emotions were welling up in his chest that it closed off his throat entirely. Merlin drew in a deep, fortifying breath, purposefully avoiding eye contact with a still-glaring Arthur the entire time. Once he felt like he had his feelings even marginally under some tenuous control, he finally met Arthur's gaze and held out the blanket like a pathetic peace offering.

"I brought you your blanket. I know it gets cold down here."

Merlin was rather proud that his voice only wavered slightly, not giving an indication of how disastrously close he was to breaking down into tears in the middle of the dungeons. Arthur merely stared at him for a moment, bewilderment appearing on his face for a few seconds before it was quickly wiped away by angry sneer.

"I don't accept gifts from the likes of you, sorcerer! It's probably cursed or enchanted to kill me so that you can finally get me out of your way for good!"

"No!"

The blanket fell to the floor as Merlin grasped the bars of the cell with both hands and pulled himself as close as he could to Arthur, who had flinched back at Merlin's outburst. His magic flared again, wanting to break down this barrier between them so that he could get closer to Arthur, but he denied its request, knowing that such an action would only agitate Arthur even more.

"Arthur, please, I never meant for any of this to happen! You must believe me! I only wanted to for Camelot to be safe from Morgana and for you to retake the throne! I only want to secure your reign, not end it!"

That, it seemed, finally got a reaction out of Arthur, but it wasn't the one Merlin was hoping for. Arthur finally stood up from the floor and stormed over to the cell door, getting close to Merlin, but just out of reach.

"And why on earth should I trust a word you say?! You've done nothing but lie to me for years, even when I gave you my complete trust! I thought you were my closest friend, the one person in my life who would never betray me, but as it turns out, I never even knew your real name, much less where your true loyalties lie!"

Merlin's face fell at Arthur's accusations, knowing that he was, in some ways, completely right in them. Still, he met Arthur's accusing glare with as much honesty as he could. After all that his own actions had taken from Arthur, he owed him the truth at the very least. Merlin spoke again, trying to muster up a calm, soothing tone despite his strong emotions.

"I know that you don't have much reason to trust what I say now, but I will do all that I can take make this right. I was born with magic, yes, but I was born this way for a purpose, and that purpose is you, Arthur. I am Emrys, destined to be the guardian of the Once and Future King, who will rule over the greatest kingdom history has ever known and bring peace the likes of which has never been seen throughout the land."

Merlin could see the moment of realization on Arthur's face as he put together who exactly the Once and Future King was, his eyes going wide with shock. Despite the situation, Merlin has just a bit of a smile on his face as he reminisced on fond memories.

"When I first met you, I just couldn't understand how such a prattish clotpole could ever be a king of legend, but the longer I stayed by your side, the more I could see the king that you were destined to become. A great man, a great leader, who will always stand up to protect his people, even if it means putting himself in danger."

Merlin's speech trailed off as he smiled gently at Arthur, trying desperately to give him reason to believe Merlin, to believe in the prophecy that tied them together, and, above all, to believe in himself.

To Merlin's surprise, he could see Arthur confusion melting into... something. It looked like something along the lines of hope or awe, which gave Merlin hope in return. But just as quickly as it was there, Arthur's expression shifted again to a frustrated anger.

"Even if what you're saying isn't some trick, your little bedtime story is wrong anyways! I can't be the Once and Future King if I'm not even a king in the first place!"

Merlin sighed deeply, knowing that they'd get to this point eventually. He had a plan, but would Arthur ever agree to it?

"I've tried! I tried to simply order the council to make you king again, but they won't do it! Geoffrey stopped me with some old laws that Bruta wrote! He said that I can't abdicate the throne to you because you're no longer legally a nobleman."

Arthur eyes widened frantically at the mention of Bruta's laws, his breathing picking up with panic. He backed up from the bars of the cell and began pacing around.

"Bruta's code, damn it, I forgot that they applied in these situations! Wait..."

His eyes snapped back to Merlin, looking red-rimmed and on the verge of tears. His voice, which was so full of fire mere seconds ago, now sounded hollow. Merlin's hope wilted upon seeing Arthur like this, and his magic flared again, still wanting to destroy the barrier between them.

"This means that the Pendragon house is no longer recognized, doesn't it?"

Merlin could only nod, unsure of what he could do to comfort Arthur. At Merlin's confirmation, Arthur took a shaky breath, trying to collect himself from the inner turmoil that he was surely experiencing.

"Everything... I've lost everything."

Merlin gave Arthur what he hoped was his most comforting smile, but it didn't do much for Arthur's hopeless disposition. After a small sigh, Merlin spoke again in a soft, comforting voice.

"Arthur, all is not lost. I have a way to make you king again! We just have to make you a noble again, and then I can abdicate the throne to you! And luckily for both of us, there's an easy way to make a peasant a nobleman quickly! And you should know, you wrote it into the laws yourself!"

Arthur blinked at him, not comprehending what Merlin had said for a couple seconds, before a sliver of hope showed on his face. However, as soon as it was there, it was gone again, once more replaced by anger and betrayal. Arthur quickly stormed over to the cell door, this time reaching the door itself and wrapping his hands around the bars so that he could yell in Merlin's face.

"I knew it! This was a trick!"

"What are you talking about? How would me knighting you and then giving you back your throne be a trick?!"

"You would have me swear on oath of fealty to you, which would legally, and for all I know magically, put me under your command! This was all just another plot to control me, wasn't it?!"

"Oh come on, you wouldn't have to mean it when you take the oath! You'd just have to say the words and then let me abdicate!"

"So now sacred oaths of loyalty are nothing but empty words to you?!"

"Gods, you really can't make anything easy for the both of us, can you, you prat! I'm just trying to give you your crown back!"

"You would have me disrespect the sacred oaths of knighthood! I would never swear an oath of fealty to you! It is a sacred bond of trust, which is apparently something that you know nothing about, Emrys!"

Merlin flinched back, still unused to Arthur saying the name given to him by the druids, much less hissed out in anger. Merlin backed away from the cell door and took a deep breath, trying to find some solution to this mess.

"So, I take it that you would not accept a knighthood from me?"

"Never."

Merlin sighed again, his eyes drifting around the dungeons as he tried to think of a different way to make Arthur a nobleman. Eventually, his eyes drifted back towards Arthur, who was still holding onto the bars of the cell door. As Merlin looked at Arthur, pondering any solution that he could possibly come up with, a metallic flash caught Merlin's eye, drawing it to Arthur's left hand.

There, the torchlight was reflecting off of Ygraine's ring, the one that Arthur rarely ever took off. Merlin was glad that Arthur still had it with him after everything that had just happened to provide some comfort, but it still didn't present Merlin with any solutions...

Wait.

Oh no.

Swallowing thickly, Merlin called out to Arthur again.

"Arthur, do you know of any, any other ways to elevate a peasant to the status of a noble?"

"I'm afraid not. Me granting knighthoods to peasants was the first legal opportunity for peasants to elevate their stations. There is no other way."

Merlin closed his eyes and tried to hold back his frustration. He wouldn't have to resort to that, surely?

"And you've really thought this through, Arthur? If you don't accept a knighthood, I don't think that there's any other way that I can legally make you a noble again, much less the king. Are you really prepared to go the rest of your life as a peasant with no title, no lands, no riches, nothing?"

Merlin could see that his words gave Arthur pause, forcing him to at least reconsider Merlin's offer. Merlin internally pleaded with Arthur to please don't be an idiot, just take the offer!

Finally, Arthur seemed to have reached his decision, as he glared at Merlin once again with conviction.

"I might be forced to live out my days as a peasant, but at least I'll be a peasant with my honor and integrity intact."

Merlin was, at this point, sorely tempted to bash his head into the stone wall behind him. Why, why did this clotpole have to make his life so difficult?!

Merlin gave a heavy sigh as he nodded, accepting Arthur's decision. Arthur looked rather smug about Merlin conceding to him, which he wouldn't be feeling if he knew exactly what Merlin had in mind as his contingency plan.

"Very well then. You've made it clear that you won't willingly take this one opportunity for me to give you your throne back. But make no mistake, you are the Once and Future King. This is your destiny, and I will see that it comes to pass, no matter what I have to do. I know that it might be unfair, but I only ask that you forgive me for what I do next. Please remember, everything I do, I do for you and the kingdom that you're destined to build."

Arthur's expression had gone from smug to confused to concerned very quickly, but Merlin didn't acknowledge the slight fear that had appeared on Arthur's face. Instead, he carefully pushed Arthur's blanket, which had been lying at the foot of the cell door, through the bars, ensuring that Arthur could grab it.

After that, Merlin turned on his heel and walked out of the now silent dungeons, his footsteps sounding authoritative and ominous as they echoed off of the stone walls.

Despite his measured footsteps, Merlin's mind was moving at sprinter's pace, trying to plan out everything that would need to be done in the coming days. The first thing that he definitely needed to do was let the steward know that he needed to plan a wedding on short notice.

After all, it wasn't uncommon for conquerors to marry their war prizes.

I hope you all enjoyed this continuation! Were you right in your guess as to what Merlin had in mind at the end of part 2? Please let me know if you'd like another part of this story!

I'll try to tag everyone who asked for a part 3 here. Thank you all for your support!

@magic-mushroomss @miyriu @whole-buncha-snakess @achillesuwu @aerismoon

@tidalwavesandthunderstorms @marki9 @isaidno @retro-wallflower @samwinjester

@lascienzadellafantasia @sugar-coated-prat-dragon @theoldfroglady @ryeallytired @mind-of-a-crow

@whynotreinventmyselfeveryday @likeapaperplane @odinjm @orliththedragon @aglmry

@caraspud @aostrek-236 @justaz @slippysalt @coffee-shop-gay

@the-king-and-the-druidess @theroundbartable @fanfic-library-for-me @linotheghost @scuttlingsleipnir

@guiltyscarlet

And, as always, than you for reading through my ramblings! :D

#merlin #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #merlin au #merthur #merlin prompts #king merlin

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ddollfface · 3 months ago

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𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞!

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗜𝘀 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗟𝗶𝗸𝗲?; 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗕𝗶𝗺𝗯𝗼 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

It's like the tangy taste that lingers on your tongue when you bite into a ripe peach, crawling throughout your body in an explosion of emotions. It's warm, pleasing, and spontaneous, never letting you get the hang of it. There's never any consistency; it's like living life on the edge, never having a dull moment with her. Her girly adventures, no matter how keen you are on such things, always find a way into your heart through doing silly fashion shows, trying on each others' clothes, going to pet stores, and cooing at the little bunnies and fishies!

You're nights are filled with chisme, constantly talking about the latest news on campus. Though you're not as invested as she is, don't worry, she'll fill you in; she's good like that. She wants to know your every opinion, but ignore the fact that her input shifts with yours, always wanting to agree with you. Though with others she's disinterested, acting clueless and dumb, with you, she's attentive. She's remembering everything she can while she paints your nails, squinting her eyes, and letting her tongue stick on in concentration as she nods along with your story about your shitty chemistry lab partner, (and don't you worry, she dealt with him for spilling water on your shirt ;)

She wants to be the one you run to, the one you call when some asshole dumps you. Don't worry! She's not like everyone else, she'll help! Let her fix your makeup, she will make it all better if you just trust her. Don't listen to everyone else, and instead, just focus on her!

She doesn't want to think of growing old, of losing her hot body. Though she knows that it's soon to come, she wants to live her life to the fullest, and with you of course (that's the most important part)! She's never thought about the afterlife or what's to come, nor the consequences of her own (bad) actions, instead, she wants to feel your lips on hers, silly!

She wants to feel her makeup smudge as her crawls onto your lap, having your hands mold into her body as she leans into you. She wants to appreciate you, to love you for your body and mind. Though she thinks your tits are pretty sweet, she wants to claw out the heart that's underneath, take it for herself, and wrap the arteries around her own.

As her lips trail down your neck, feeling feather-light but baited as her heavy breath fans across your skin, she lets her nails run up and down your back, hoping to feel grounded in your presence. Whenever she's around you, she can't help but feel giddy, to be filled with this needy sentiment that prods at her brain, begging her body to move closer to yours, to press her nose to your neck, and wrap her legs around your waist.

She wants to crawl into your chest, so that's why she scoots closer, pressing your chest to hers, and cupping your jaw with her hands, careful of her acrylic nails. Her eyes are heart-shaped, practically glowing with the obsession that spirals through her body. Almost wrapping around you like a snack, she purses her lips, never letting them space away from your own, always making sure that you're somehow touching.

These emotions are so deep-rooted, keeping her grounded and whole as she's attached her whole identity to you, feeling as though you are one with her. What would she do without her best friend? She needs your validation, she needs your eyes on her, her, her. Don't look at that guy, or another girl for that matter, you're eyes should only be on her and her alone.

She can be everything and anything you want, just tell her! Tell her she's pretty and fulfill this growing obsession in her heart. She doesn't know what she'd do without you, and she wants to you to feel the same, so that's why she always has her arms around you. No matter where you are, her lips are pressed to your neck, as if a reminder that she's there, always. She wants to be there for you, so she makes you aware of her presence, so you get just as caught up on her as she is to you.

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msmorningstaarr · 5 months ago

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let me be yours | part II

ao3 | masterlist | < part I |

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x f!Martell Reader

Word count: 6.6k

Summary: You, a Martell princess who was recently brought into Rhaenyra's courtyard as a sign of goodwill to ensure the unification of the Seven Kingdoms. With time passing on, you feel trapped under the enticing aura of the Dragon Queen and sees yourself desiring her more and more. However, in a delicate situation, is it worth the yearn for your Queen? Would you give in to your needs to have your way with her and find some indulgence?

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), afab reader, bisexual rhaenyra, canon divergence, longing, age gap (you early 20s rhae mid 30s), fingering, masturbation, oral sex, sub/dom dynamics (rhae dom you sub), overstimulation, scissoring, queen rhaenyra targaryen, nipple play, possessive rhaenyra

a/n: well, it’s been a long time since I don’t post a fic here and I was considering seriously ending my blog (i still do low key and end totally my last social media but let’s ignore that) but I have fun here and I love sharing my stories with you guys. thanks for reading! I hope you all enjoy it <3 comments, reblogs, likes are very much appreciated.

Taglist: @princessanglophile @hiroikegawa @hiraethrhapsody @pet1t3

The next day, Rhaenyra summoned you to visit her again, and you brought your cloak to show her the sewing and embroidery you had completed. Her praise for your work and dedication was effusive, each word like a sweet melody to your ears. As she examined the intricate stitches and delicate patterns, her hand would occasionally brush against yours, a gentle touch that sent a thrill of warmth through your entire being. These fleeting moments of physical contact spoke volumes, conveying an unspoken tenderness and connection between you.

Her gaze remained as intense as ever, locking onto yours with a depth that stirred both admiration and longing within you. There were times when she leaned in closely to speak, her words brushing against your ear with an intimacy that left you breathless. Occasionally, she would press a lingering kiss to your cheek or temple, the softness of her lips leaving an indelible impression.

Each gesture, each touch, each word of affection stirred a flurry of emotions within you. You found yourself wondering if Rhaenyra's actions were merely those of a caring future mother-in-law, or if they hinted at something deeper, something that mirrored your own feelings. The uncertainty added a bittersweet edge to your interactions, blending desire with apprehension as you navigated the delicate dance between duty and desire in her presence.

And each night, you would touch yourself thinking about Rhaenyra.

Finger twirling around your clit.

Daring to play with your entrance.

Mumbled words desperately calling for your Queen.

Fingers down on your cunt until you come undone on your fingers.

Wishing it was on hers.

But after almost a month of engaging in your own pleasure, it came ahead of you the unstoppable moment of your life: your wedding. You remember yourself being a little princess in Dorne, waiting and counting your days to know how long it would take until she would be wedded to someone and there you were, now dreading this moment.

You wished to fulfil your fantasy, you wished to have a way with Rhaenyra. How could you marry her son and still think of her, every night? Marriage is just a piece of paper, Rhaenyra well said, however, would you ever be willing to be the one who brings pleasure, true pleasure, into your life?

There you were, five days away from your wedding, knocking on Rhaenyra’s door to spend your time with her. This time, she asked you to come in your evening garments, a cream nightgown with long, tight sleeves. Your hair was loose and carried no jewellery on your body. The Queen opened up her door for you with a soft smile, signing you to go inside her bedchambers.

“Your Grace.” You courtied her, bending your knee. Rhaenyra raised her eyebrows, silently remembering you of her wish. “Sorry, Rhaenyra. I cannot help but treat you as you deserve.”

Rhaenyra held a smug smile after hearing you call her by her title. Her hands reached yours and entangled your fingers, greeting you in a more intimate manner. “Then as your Queen, I command you to call me by my name, little sun.” The Queen beamed at you, mischievously with her faint, playful smile. You laughed, although still a bit shy. “I apologise for summoning you in the night, my darling.” She began, walking throughout her room.

You followed her and one of her QueensGuard closed the door behind you and finally left the both of you alone. You were nervous, joining your hands on your back as you followed her, trying to disguise your anticipation around Her Grace. “I could not fall asleep and felt in need of your company. You lift my spirits.” The Queen said, sympathetically. Your eyes sparkled as she praised you, heart beating in anticipation and having a weird sense of validation, hence her sweet talk. “I hope I have not interrupted your sleep.”

As if you could ever go slumbering without touching yourself to the thought of Rhaenyra. You beamed briefly and shook your head, finding you a place to stay still, right after Your Grace. “You did not, as I myself have also been in some trouble finding my own sleep, Your Grace.”

Rhaenyra looked at you after a long sigh and her eyes seemed more relaxed when around you. She looked so beautiful in that blue nightgown, honouring her mother, a Lady of Arryn. Her hair was long and thick, she took great joy in braiding it before sleeping, but you would rather see it all loosen down, giving her a more human aspect to her godly, ethereal appearance.

Rhaenyra approached you, involving your hands on hers and grinning, which you grinned back before she led you towards a small table with a jar of wine with two goblets beside it. “We barely had time these days to share our daily moments. It is a shame.”

You started drinking by the same window Rhaenyra teased you, being bathed by the moonlight, Rhaenyra seemed even more stunning when in a more natural state. Rhaenyra drank her own wine but her eyes were locked on you, as it would always be. “I have been missing you, but with the current state of your wedding, we have both been quite busy lately.”

You nodded, positioning your cup on the window to lean your chest over it, watching from afar the lights of Flea Bottom. You didn’t know what to feel or think about it. You had so much time to spend with Jace and he seemed polite, but rather distant from you.

Maybe it was your fault, you should stay away from the Queen’s web, perhaps make more effort to be in acquaintance with your betrothed before the actual wedding. It was a rare thing, to live amongst your future husband, could give some default to the life ahead of you. However, you wasted it. “What troubles your sleep this evening, my sun?”

Your hands were sweaty again, your eyes lowered, looking to the immensity of darkness on the ground. Rhaenyra grabbed your face with her hands and smiled, as a sign of her affection. “I am nervous, Rhaenyra, I must admit.” You started, hesitant. “I have been thinking about what you told me in a former encounter of ours.”

Rhaenyra stared at you, intrigued. Her eyes narrowed, trying to recall their older gatherings. “You have?” Rhaenyra said with a hint of surprise in her eyes. The Queen looked at you with curiosity, trying to remember the words she said in the last moments they shared together. “Continue, dear.” Rhaenyra encouraged you with her gentle smile and her eyes still on yours.

“About marriages, duties and happiness…” You started, taking a smirk from Rhaenyra. Her fingers caressed your chin after squeezing it gently.

“Ah, those words, yes.” Rhaenyra chuckled, nodding her head. She gently cupped your face with her hands, her fingers caressing your cheeks. She took a step forward, standing very close to you.

“That was... very interesting of you to bring it up again.” The woman hummed, staring into your eyes.

You hummed yourself, feeling her lavender oil scent invade your nostrils and involuntarily, you bite your lower lips, feeling the heat grow ridiculously fast as Rhaenyra preyed on you, like a dragon seeking out its food. “And why does Your Grace find it interesting?”

Rhaenyra smiled down in amusement, watching your teeth sink into your lower lip. She traced her thumb over your lower lip, tugging slowly to free it from your teeth. She looked into your eyes, her pupils wide and full of lust.

“Because... I wonder if you remember the words I said that evening…” She said, almost whispering it to you and she leaned in closer.

Your mouth went dry instantly with the pace the gap between your bodies was closing. You remembered it more than well, but lacked the confidence to say it out loud. Not for not trusting in her, but mostly out of fret for what could happen now. She was too close to the pyre and the chances of being burned were immense. Either way, you said it. “A marriage is just a piece of paper.” You mumbled, breathing against her fair skin.

Rhaenyra chuckled lowly, her eyes slowly moving all over your face. She took the time to take in your expressions and your reactions to her body being so close to yours. She saw the way your throat moved slightly when you swallowed. The Queen took another step forward, feeling your chest against her own. She could feel your heart beating against your chest and she had no doubts that you could feel hers too. Rhaenyra could almost feel your breath against her lips as she let out a soft hum. “Correct.” She said, quietly.

“Once we are in a marriage, we can still have our… preferences. I learned it well with my late husband,” Rhaenyra traced her fingertips on your soft lips, attentively staring at it. “Bedding is not the biggest of your problems, my dear, but the lack or opportunity to be vulnerable. It can be the greatest of our strengths or weaknesses.”

Rhaenyra introduced your thumb within your mouth and instinctively, you suckled on it and closed your eyes as she spoke. Your warm tongue licked and pulled her thumb closer in a sultry move. Your cunt was soaked, dripping for Rhaenyra. “Open your eyes and look at me.” She softly commanded and you immediately complied. Your reaction encouraged her and her thumb gently moved under your bottom lip. The silver queen gently brushes it across the plump surface.

“How can something so flawless and beautiful exist in this world?” Rhaenyra muttered to herself. Her gaze never leaves your face. It was surreal, was it really happening to you? Your head was free of thoughts, only living in the present and wanting more of that enticing woman. “You see, you make me quite vulnerable to you. I wonder if you will make a strength or a weakness out of it.”

Then, Rhaenyra got closer. Now, the fabrics were much thinner than the other dresses both women wore. You could feel the swell of her breasts, her waist glued against yours, her breath close to you again. You startled, feeling her fingertips grazing on your skin, gently and superficially.

Once the Queen took off her finger and muttered her words, you opened her eyes and stared at Rhaenyra. “You think this highly of me, Your Grace?” You asked, muttering back.

“A woman as beautiful as you has no right to exist. Perfection itself. An artwork the Rhoynar Gods made to torture men.” Rhaenyra muttered back, as her fingers traced along your soft jaw and down the side of your neck, feeling your pulse. “And they have. A vision so perfect and lovely has tempted me like no other. A true flower of the desert." Rhaenyra whispered.

“Do I tempt you?” You asked again, whispering as well. Your figures were now pressed against each other. Rhaenyra moved her head up a little, her lips ghosting over yours, not yet kissing, but close enough to feel her breath on your skin as she spoke.

Rhaenyra chuckled and lifted her chin slightly, feeling your body shiver slightly against hers as you let her touch travel down on your nightgown.

The material was soft and thin, doing a terrible job to hide how much it was affecting you. The blonde hummed when she felt your body shuddering under her touch. The Queen let her hand slide behind your waist, enjoying the heat of your skin under her touch.

“You have no idea of the power you hold, my sweet girl. No idea of how weak I am for you.” Her words caused you to silently gasp in front of her, you gave in entirely to Rhaenyra, your dream was coming true and fear grew as arousal spread through your body.

“Why do I make a weak of you?” You asked your possible lover, granting yourself the benefit of the doubt as you played naive for the cold truth: she wanted you as much as you wanted her.

“Because I long for you.” Rhaenyra muttered, still running her thumb gently across your bottom lip. She couldn't help but stare down at the mouth of this sweet thing. Just the thought of her kissing you was enough to send you the edge. The temptation was too much to bear.

“I long for you too, my Queen.” You finally admitted, mumbling at Rhaenyra. Ever since you landed on King’s Landing to be warded by the Queen, you find herself daydreaming of kissing her lips and being her own little Queen.

“Is that so, sweet girl?” Rhaenyra’s voice was low and sultry, her eyebrow arched in a mixture of curiosity and desire. A soft smile played on her lips as her thumb gently traced the contours of your plump, soft lips. Each stroke sent a shiver of anticipation through you.

Every time she looked at your lips, a deep hunger ignited within her, a yearning to taste you and make you hers in every sense. Your gaze lingered, filled with a fierce determination to claim you as her own, to explore every inch of your being and etch her presence into your soul. The moment hung heavy with tension and unfulfilled desire, as if the world itself paused to witness the profound connection between you.

“I wish I could be yours." You reply, your eyes burning desire for Rhaenyra. You pay no mind for any liability; you care not that she is your Queen, the mother of your future husband, a woman. You wanted Rhaenyra.

“You can.” Rhaenyra muttered. She brought her other hand to your face, making sure to be completely focused on every part of you, taking in everything about you. Every part of her was perfect. As her thumbs trace over the soft flesh of your face, her eyes flicker down to your parted lips and she cannot help but gaze down to them, feeling the need to feel them on hers. “Just say the word.”

You touched the hand of Rhaenyra that was resting on your face and bit your lips again while listening to Her Grace. Submissively, you replied. “Let me be yours, Your Grace.” You mumbled, in a disguised begging for Rhaenyra to claim you, to have her way with you.

The eyes of Rhaenyra brightened and she was in total bliss. Hearing your sweet words in that pretty mouth, in that sensual tone, was like music to her ears. Rhaenyra leaned in close while both her hands gently held your face. Her nose gently brushed your own and she looked deep into your eyes.

“You are mine. My sweet girl.” Rhaenyra whispered as her tongue gently traced over your lip. She was close. You moaned lightly and she hummed with your reaction.

“I’m yours, Your Grace,” You whispered back, with a trembling voice and a mixture of reverence and longing. The words hung in the air, laden with the weight of her surrender. Impulsively, you pulled Rhaenyra closer, her fingers grasping the fabric of her gown with a desperate need to feel her warmth.

Yet, despite the burning desire coursing through her veins, you hesitated, her breath hitching as she stopped just short of initiating the kiss. Your faces were mere inches apart, close enough to feel each other’s breath mingling in the charged air. She gazed into Rhaenyra’s eyes, finding herself lost in the depths of those piercing, commanding orbs.

Feeling you pull her closer, Rhaenyra had to act. She closed the remaining distance as she pressed her mouth against yours, kissing you. Her lips moved slowly against your own, enjoying the feeling of you beneath her, knowing you were hers. Her thumbs gently stroke the flesh of your cheeks as she begins to explore your mouth.

Her kiss was ethereal as her beauty. You explored the inside of her mouth with her tongues in an enticing dance, moaning between the kiss as her hand possessively wandered through your hair. Rhaenyra hummed again against your mouth, delighting herself with her reactions. Her arm possessively brought you even closer, as if it was possible and another hand of hers grabbed you by the neck, deepening the kiss.

Gently, the silver Queen pushed you against the cold wall of her chambers, causing an electrifying thermal shock on your body. Her fingertips traced through your jawline and she tightened her grip, feeling her smooth flesh, rubbing against yours and the feeling was beyond incredible. Rhaenyra parted her lips for a brief time, staring at you with eyes full of hunger.

“Do you want me, sweet girl?” Rhaenyra whispered, with a husky voice as her eyes darkened, burning with desire and need for you. She watched you closely, waiting for an answer from you, holding you on a firm grip. You nodded at her question, taciturnly responding at her.

“Say it.” The royal commanded again, filling the air with tension enough to explode the room. Her eyes were locked on yours, breathing heavily towards your lips, you were drowned in pleasure, your voice was about to falter, right in front of your queen.

“I want you, My Queen.” You whispered. Her lips curled into a devilish smirk, with one of her hands letting go of your waist to cup your cheek, brushing your olive skin in very gentle circles. Rhaenyra joined your noses and rubbed each other, teasing you. Your desire went over the edge. It was overwhelmingly good being claimed by Your Grace, you would make sure this night was perfect. Rhaenyra's tongue explored every inch of your mouth. Feeling the warmth inside and tasting you on her tongue.

“Are you mine, sweet girl?" She asked, moving from your mouth down to your jaw, sucking and leaving marks on your soft flesh. Her moves were quick and furtive, as a dragon should be. Her face roamed yours, examining your expressions with cunning and desire.

“I am yours, Your Grace,” you whispered, with a voice having a delicate blend of devotion and anticipation. A soft hum of pleasure escaped your lips as you felt the tender nibbling and gentle suckling on your skin, each touch sending delightful shivers through her body. The sensations were exquisite, drawing you deeper into a state of blissful surrender.

“You are mine.” Rhaenyra replied against your skin. You tilted your head back, moaning lightly as the Queen suckled on the skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine nipples to instantly turn visible through your nightgown. Her hand travelled south, squeezing your waist and hips and soon after, your thigh. “Mine, mine, mine…” She continued, repeating the word like a prayer, still close to your neck.

Swiftly, she flipped your body and pressed the front of it against the cold wall, pulling your hair to the side and kissing your back as a contrast to her rough and sudden gesture. You purred with pleasure as Rhaenyra had her hands reaching the laces of your nightly garments and you moaned lightly, feeling her kisses on your neck. Your hands, delicately, pulled her head against your neck, beseeching for more action on her side.

“I am all yours,” You replied, faintly moaning with the motion of your dress falling onto the floor. “Yours, yours, yours…”

Rhaenyra mischievously smiled, out of satisfaction hearing your voice so submissive to her. Her soft hands wandered up and down on your bare back, admiring your naked body. Your neck was invaded with kisses, bites and suckles, mixing pain and lust at the same time and your moans were becoming desperate for her.

"I want to worship you, sweet girl. Will you let me?" Rhaenyra asked in a sultry whisper, her hands finding the lace of her own dress and revealing her pale skin. You agreed in silence, feeling her nipples brushing against your back. "Perfect." She muttered, her voice barely a mutter. One of her hands moved up to your breast, gently caressing it with her thumb.

And then, Your Grace flipped your body back to face your front. A brief silence rose amongst you two, her body screamed the yearn to devour you completely. Rhaenyra pinched your left nipple and you moaned in a low tone. "Gorgeous." Rhaenyra murmured as her mouth took in your pert nipple, her tongue flicking over it softly and your hands almost immediately reached her hair again, not allowing Rhaenyra to let go of your chest. Her tongue circled one nipple and alternated with suckling, kisses and bites on your nipple.

No one has ever seen you naked before. Yet, being all exposed for Rhaenyra for the first time was no hardship. You felt close to explode once her lips reached your breast and a soft cry came from your mouth. Rhaenyra hummed against your flesh, continuing to give your breast the attention it desired.

One of her hands lowered over your cunt as her lips suckled and licked your chest. Her other hand moved down across your torso before gently placing it between your legs and gently stroking a digit across your core, making you melt into her arms, exploding with her skilful manoeuvring.

Rhaenyra gently removed her mouth from your breast and looked up into your eyes. Her thumb continued to circle your core, picking up the pace as she watched you. "Does it feel good, sweet girl? Do you enjoy this?" The Queen muttered with a teasing smirk as she watched your hips bounce for her. You looked right into Rhaenyra’s eyes, moaning silently and crying out in pleasure against that wall, only nodding in response to her question.

Rhaenyra leaned in and kissed you once more as her thumb pressed down gently on your sensitive clit, delighting herself with your moans. "Say it." Rhaenyra whispered, repeating her command and wanting to hear you say out loud how much you like this.

“I-It feels so good… Y-your Grace…” You stammered, with your voice trembling with pleasure. You leaned in and pressed her lips to Rhaenyra’s, kissing deeply and fervently, as the Queen’s hands continued to explore her body with master, tender touches. Each caress heightened your senses, mumbling soft moans from her lips and making her pulse race with a mixture of excitement and desire.

The Queen vibrated in response and pressed down more on your sensitive apex, slowly increasing the pressure, watching closely for your reaction.

As she did this, her other hand moved up to wrap around your neck, gently squeezing you. You moaned, gazing directly into her eyes. "That's it, sweet girl. Let it all out." Rhaenyra whispered, her voice now husky and needy.

Not all times you touched yourself you could be as good as Rhaenyra was touching you. She knew how and where exactly to do it on you and it built an imminent desperation for release within your body. Your hands reached her shoulders, squeezing it as she grew closer to come on her fingers.

As your whines and moans grew, Rhaenyra knew you were close. Her thumb kept circling and pressing on your sweet spot, listening to the soft noises coming from your mouth. The sight of her in front of you was perfection. Rhaenyra squeezed your neck gently and whispered to you. "Come for me, my sweet. I want to see you fall to pieces in my hands... just for me."

With her soft command, you felt your legs faltering and a single tear of joy leaving your right eye, with a moan so similar to a whine leaving your mouth while your climax hit you, exploding just as the fourteen fires of the Valyria of Old. You buried your head on the crook of Your Grace’s neck, irregularly breathing and trembling your body.

Rhaenyra slowed her movements, taking her time to pull you through your orgasm. With each gentle rock of her thumb across your sensitive jewel, she kissed and licked up your neck. The sound of your moans and whines filled her ears and sent shivers down her spine. Feeling your body tremble against her sent a tingle between her thighs. "That's it, sweet girl. You've been so good, so perfect for me." The Queen muttered in praise as her arm wrapped around your waist.

You smiled, still in ecstasy from the aftershocks of that alluring moment you had shared with the Queen and kissed her lips gently while your body recovered. After the brief kiss, they stared at each other in silence and you proceeded to suckle on the finger that touched you, wiping all of your own wetness with her lips from Rhaenyra’s hand, who let go a groan as she watched you taste her on your fingers.

She could feel a heat beginning to burn deep within her core. You needed her. She brought her hands to your face and cupped your cheeks, kissing you deeply as she backed you towards the bed. The Dragon Queen pushed you down onto the soft silk sheets and hovered over top of you.

"I need you." She whispered against your mouth, her voice hoarse and desperate.

You felt the impact of falling onto the bed and kept kissing Rhaenyra and feeling the Queen alternating between her lips and neck. You spread her legs to accommodate Rhaenyra on top of you while Your Grace’s lips tasted your skin roughly and desperately.

“Then take me, Your Grace.” You whispered back, muttering ‘please’ onto her ear, which drove Rhaenyra to complete madness over you.

Rhaenyra lowered her body down, grinding her thigh against your wet core. You moaned a bit louder to the pressure and the sensation. She wanted to tease you, but you could not hold back anymore. "I am going to make you squirm, sweet girl." She muttered as her hand moved down your body, caressing your breast before her knee gently found your cunt. Rhae was gentle at first, pressing down gently as she rocked her knee against you. You, on the other hand, complied immediately to her promise, squirming and allowing your body to spasm under her touch. Instinctively, you grabbed her arse to keep Rhaenyra close.

Rhaenyra moaned as her body trembled, feeling your hands grab her arse and rock her. She leaned in close, biting down on your neck as she pressed her knee against you. "Feels so good, sweet...girl." She muttered as she continued to rub gently, her free hand gripping into your waist, as her own moans began to fill the room.

“Please, my Queen… more…” You pleaded as Rhaenyra kept rocking her knee against your sensitive centre, leaving moans from both mouths. You left one hand to the Queen’s hair, bringing her closer and the other hand kept squeezing Rhaenyra.

Your desperate moans made Rhaenyra go feral, her need and longing to hear more of your sweet sounds was overwhelming. "Say my name." She muttered, darkening her eyes and lowering your voice to a devilish tone, wanting to hear you utter her name on your lips.

You were torn, unsure if you should dare to call Rhaenyra by her name. It still seemed as a terrible lack of respect, yet the pleasure she derived from obeying her was overwhelming. As the sensations intensified, bringing you closer to the edge, you have decided to comply without question.

“My Queen,” you murmured breathlessly, opting to avoid using Rhaenyra’s name. The words felt both formal and intimate, a reflection of your submission and the profound connection you felt in that moment. Rhaenyra had her body trembling with anticipation, each touch and command driving her further into a state of astonishing surrender.

Rhaenyra listened intently as her thigh pressed and slowly paced against your intimacy, getting off your moans and whines. The queen smirked and kissed at your neck, gently sucking on the bare skin.

"No, my dornish sun.” She whispered in your ear, her voice sultry and seductive. “Say it... my name. I need to hear it from your sweet lips.”

“Rhae… Rhaenyra…” You moaned as Rhaenyra alternated between her fingers and knee on your intimacy. Your whines became more urgent as another orgasm began giving its early signs.

Upon hearing her name, Rhaenyra gently but firmly rolled her knee against your cunt, feeling your body tense slightly with your approach at climax. Wanting nothing more than to send you over the edge, Rhaenyra suddenly stopped and made you sigh heavily out of frustration for the denial of her release.

“Please, Rhae…” You pleaded, unable to finish her name, clenching your entrance around nothing and humping your cunt in the air.

"I want you to come on my lips." Rhaenyra groaned into your ear. Rhaenyra eagerly positioned her head between your legs, her mouth kissing along the inside of your sensitive thighs and making you arch your back, sobbing with the utter state of bliss. Rhaenyra moaned at the sight of your intimate spot, swollen, covered in slick and sensitive from the foreplay.

"So pretty for me, sweet girl." She whispered as her fingers gently parted your labia, exposing your jewel to her gaze. You moaned in anticipation by the simple act of having Rhaenyra kissing your inner thighs. Your lips were quick to be bitten.

Rhaenyra smirked at your moans, feeling her own desire building between her own legs. The sight of you squirming made her want you even more. She lowered her head gently, her tongue giving tentative licks to the sensitive skin on your thighs, biting softly into it. "And so responsive..." She murmured.

The more you moaned, the more desperate Rhaenyra was to hear more. She gently parted your lips further, exposing your sensitive intimacy. Slowly and gently, her thumb began to rub your sensitive bud, while her mouth returned to the skin above your cunt, suckling and biting at the flesh “Say my name, sweet girl." She whispered against your skin.

“R-rhaenyra…” You called her in a desperate moan. You pulled the Queen’s head closer to your damp core and her body arched back, feeling all the pleasure Rhaenyra had to offer to you.

Rhaenyra groaned at the sound of her name falling from your lips and leaned in closer as you pulled her head forward. Her tongue suddenly moved forward to brush across your sensitive bud, circling gently. “Does that feel good, sweet girl? Does the Queen make you feel good?” You moaned as the royal returned back to gentle licks and circling motions.

“So good, my Queen…” You replied, humping your intimacy against Rhaenyra’s face.

The queen groaned out at the feeling of you rubbing against her, your soft noises making her heart beat faster in her chest. Your moans were the sweetest sound to her, music to her ears. Her tongue continued to move, the circles slowly becoming more and more erratic with her movements, her tongue adding more pressure to the side of your bundle of nerves.

You had your legs shaking once more and desperation built within you, a single tear leaving your eyes and Rhaenyra sped up the pace as she worked her tongue on you.

The sight of you beneath her only edged her on further. Rhaenyra felt her own desires and needs building within, her own core growing desperate for the same kind of attention. However, she continued with making you feel good. She wanted to make you cry, wanted to make you come undone. Rhaenyra leaned a bit closer, her pace quickening as her tongue flicked back and forth against your sweet spot.

"Are you close, sweet girl?" Her voice vibrated against your cunt, alternating her voice between eating your cunt out.

“Yes, my Queen…” You replied, agonisingly feeling Rhaenyra down on you, having you as if you were her last meal. Your whines were consistent and urgent, the warmth of her mouth made you feel even closer to your peak.

Rhaenyra groaned against your clit, feeling your body grow tense and more desperate. You were so close to falling over the edge, she could tell. "Come for me, sweet girl. I want to hear you call out my name when you reach your peak." Rhaenyra whispered before returning her tongue to your bundle of nerves, the speed in her circles increasing and becoming more frequent.

“Rhaenyra-…” You were quick to comply and let go, feeling your body convulsing under the overwhelming presence of your Queen licking your cunt and once more, you climaxed and now on her tongue. Rhaenyra groaned as your body convulsed under her mouth, her tongue continuing its ministrations through your peak.

The queen, however, hovered over you once more and kissed your lips hungrily, her face all covered in your wetness. “I am not done with you.” Rhaenyra groaned at the feeling of your bodies pressed together, her fingers digging into your skin slightly as she kissed your lips, her teeth gently biting over your pulse point.

“Mine.” She murmured against your skin, her breath hot yet soft as she whispered into the crook of your neck. The possessive edge in her voice and the way her teeth gently gripped onto your skin sent tingles down her spine, her body shivering against yours.

“I’m yours, Rhaenyra.” You muttered back, feeling Rhaenyra’s hand cup one of her breasts and taking a moan out of your lips.

Rhaenyra roughly squeezed your breasts at the sound of your moan, your breath shuddering softly against your skin as she moved her hand over your body, her fingers trailing over your hips, feeling again the mix between soreness and lust.

“Only mine.” She whispered quietly into your ear, her breath hot and shaky as she placed her legs between yours and pressed against you. Rhaenyra groaned at the sound of your moan, her body shivering as it pressed against you and her leg grinded against your centre.

“You feel that, darling?” She whispered her husky and shaky voice in your ear as her fingers trailed down to your hip, her leg gently and slowly rubbing against you. Rhaenyra’s hips gently grinded against yours, her breath shaky as she continued to rub her leg over you, her fingers digging into your hip slightly as she slowly began to rub at a steady pace.

She let out a low groan, her own need for you evident. “You feel so perfect, my darling.”

“Please yourself with me, Your Grace…” You said between moans as Rhaenyra rubbed her leg against your intimacy. Your mind rummined about her cunt against yours and it drove you straight into madness. Your body could barely understand the variation of emotions going through at this moment since you were close to come for the third time by that moment. Even still, you knew you could handle her, you wanted anything she had to offer you.

Rhaenyra gasped softly, her moans getting louder as her leg continued to rub against you, her hips shaking against as she listened to your moans. “I want you.” She groaned as her leg moved against you at a growing pace. “Gods, I need you.”

You wanted more, you wanted her to feel as much as you were feeling and perhaps it could be a risky move, but you pulled her body closer and positioned Rhaenyra’s aching core against your own cunt, mimicking a scissoring motion. “Please yourself with me, Your Grace.” She repeated herself, both moaning to the feeling of their clits against each other.

Rhaenyra gasped at the feeling of your bodies pressed in this way, her breath catching in her throat. ”Gods.” The queen gagged, her eyes rolling back slightly as a low and heady moan escaped her. Her hands grasped for your hips and gripped them as she listened to your moans. “S-sweet g-girl…” She called out your name, rocking her cunt against yours.

You bounced your hips and created more friction against Rhaenyra’s intimacy, fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs, moaning in a perfect symphony.

Her whole body trembled as her hips rocked against yours, moans coming out of her mouth uncontrollably as she ground and rolled her hips into yours. Her breathing was shaky and uneven, her grasp on your hips tightening as she desperately tried to maintain her composure. Your moans and sighs of pleasure seemed to fuel her own, and she found herself moving faster against you, letting out a low, keening sound as she felt her climax building.

“I’m close…” You said, feeling that Rhaenyra was almost close as well. Both Queen and Princess moaned loudly as they rubbed their clits against each other and hips moved fast to increase their pleasure. You cried out, desperate for release.

Rhaenyra had her body shook, her breath coming out in sharp gasps and moans as she felt herself nearing her peak. She gasped and moaned loudly, her body arching into yours as they ground against each other, desperately chasing her release.

“Gods, I’m going to—“ The dragon queen gasped out, her whole body shuddering and shaking. Her fingers dug into your hips and held you tightly as her body twitched against yours.

Your body shaked violently through your climax as it hits the duo fastly. You moaned loudly on a desperate whine, trembling and rocking for the last time against Rhaenyra as the Queen peaked as well. Rhaenyra’s whole body arched as they both came together, moaning and shaking as waves of pleasure washed over her. She held onto you tightly, her breathing coming out in hot and shaky puffs as she rode her climax, riding it until her body fell, limp and trembling against you, completely spent.

As you finished, Rhaenyra gently kissed your cheek before pulling back and crawling closer to your face and body. Her own breathing was laboured and her body flush. "You're so beautiful when you fall apart, sweet girl." She whispered, leaning in to kiss your lips gently. You hugged Rhaenyra while you tried to recover from the intense orgasm. After it, you brushed her sweaty hair while Rhaenyra was still on top of you.

Rhaenyra laid against you, her body feeling heavy and limp as she slowly began to come down from her high, her breathing and heart rate slowly returning to normal. Her hair clung to her face from the beads of sweat, her lips pressed to the crook of your neck as she tried to catch her breath. ”Gods.” She whispered breathlessly.

You breathed heavily and tried to regulate along Rhaenyra and smiled, wiping the sweat from the Queen’s face. “That was intense, Your Grace…” You whispered back, breathless as well.

Rhaenyra let out a faint chuckle, lifting her face from your neck and looking down at you, a small smile on her lips as she gazed at you. “Very intense.” Rhaenyra agreed. Her fingers lifted and traced over your face, her eyes full of adoration and affection as she looked at you.

“I’ve never lost control like that.” She said quietly, her voice low and full of wonder. You smiled coyly at Rhaenyra and kissed her chin gently, still gazing at her.

Rhaenyra groaned softly as she felt your tender kiss. Her own hand clutched gently onto your shoulder, her nails slightly digging into your skin. "You'll ruin me, sweet girl." Rhaenyra whispered, caressing your hair as she stared at you in bed.

Now was your time to smirk at her face. You grabbed her chin and kissed it, enticing her imagination and internally trying to see if that really wasn’t a dream. You had her. Your wish was conceded. And it was good as the fantasy you indulge yourself in. “Good.” You then said, whispering in her ear and enduring your mischievous face. Rhaenyra giggled and pulled you closer, giving a peck to your lips. “You are mine now.”

And finally, you could admit with happiness. “I am yours.”

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