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ellastone-olsen · 9 months ago

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Could I request something Rhaenyra x Stark!reader smut with them being feral codependent soulmates? I love that trope. They would totally be unhinged and in love wives together plus the fire and ice parallels 😭 Like after Laenor “dies”, Rhaenyra’s goes looking for a new spouse and runs into Stark!reader and it’s just love/obsession at first sight?

MY QUEEN IS CRUEL

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!Stark!reader

Summary: your family comes from Winterfell to the capital at the invitation of the Targaryen family. Princess Rhaenyra announced that she would choose a new spouse. Your brother was a contender from the House of Stark, but it seems to the princess that another contender from the rulers of the north is more interesting.

Warnings: NSFW 18+, soulmates dynamic, mentions of blood and alcohol, innocent reader, virginity loss, oral, fingering

Word count: 3.1k

AN: omg my first House of the Dragon fic, I hope I translated some titles and names correctly. Thanks for the request, it took me so long to write this, but I love Rhaenyra so much 💕

Rhaenys's bitter, heartbreaking cry is heard in the silence of the room. The woman looks at the burnt body that just a few minutes ago was her son. “Who allowed this?! Why wasn’t anyone around?!” Corlys embraces his wife in rage and grief. That day, sadness became the main companion of the grieving parents.

No one knows that on the shore, the one who is now considered dead is running towards the boat. Laenor Velaryon sails away to disappear forever from this life in which he was imprisoned. Rhaenyra gave him a chance at happiness and Laenor will not forget this.

Rhaenyra Targaryen is officially recognized as a widow. It is expected that rumors about the death of the princess's husband began to spread like a plague, from servants to other servants, and those to their families, from there the plague was transmitted to all seven kingdoms. Some believed in the official story, others, like the grieving mother, blamed the Targaryen family for everything, they said that the princess ordered the murder, that she was tired of her husband. But for Rhaenyra it was enough to know that this was absurdity and slander.

“So what are you going to do next?” Daemon approached unnoticed. Rhaenyra didn’t look at him, her gaze was directed far out to sea. "I think I'm looking for a new spouse." Damon thought the hint was crystal clear. He thought that she still wanted him, wanted to finish what they started that night all those years ago. “Rhaenyra...” He was interrupted, “No uncle, leave it alone. Kiss me and let me go. If you do not...” A ringing silence hung between them. The phrase did not need to be continued; he already understood it.

King's Landing was filled with lords, princes and princesses from all over Westeros. The royal family invited all the noble houses, announcing that the heir to the iron throne would thus choose a new life partner.

“I don’t understand why you took me with you.” Your carriage was approaching to the King's Landing. Your parents were, as always, calm and cool, as befits the Starks, the rulers of the north. Your younger brother looked around the windows excitedly, clearly excited about his first trip outside of Winterfell. “Your mother and I think that you also need to see the capital.” Your father, as always, spoke directly and to the point. You smiled bitterly. “Only we’re here to try to marry Rob to this pompous princess.” You didn’t hide your bias towards this whole thing, which was more like an auction. “Y/N just try to say something like that about the princess in public and you will disgrace the entire House of Starks.”

For the rest of the trip you rode in silence, only occasionally fiddling with the hilt of the sword hidden in a sheath under your heavy black coat. Perhaps you had a little curiosity about the princess. What does the one who will take the iron throne look like, against whom there was so much outrage just because she was a woman. You thought that she must be strong and stubborn just like her ancestors. The same as the previously lived Visenya about whom you once read.

The carriage stopped.

“Do I have to wear this? How will I take my sword with me?” Your mother stood in the chambers that had kindly been allocated to you and watched as a maid helped you lace up a black dress with antique long sleeves. “You don't need the sword today, honey. This is a royal ball and you are not a knight in service." You looked in the mirror, and even though dresses weren't something you wore often, it didn't look bad at all for your taste. Still, the velvet in tandem with the large fur coat that you took from Winterfell looked harmonious.

“But what if something goes wrong and I’m left without a weapon?” You insisted. After so many years of training, the sword became an extension of you, and going out without it was akin to death. "The Royal Guard will protect us all." Your mother tried to be gentle and calm your worries. The woman came up behind you and put her hands on your shoulders. “For just one evening, be a princess and not a rude warrior. For me." You covered her hands. "Okay, just for you."

All arriving guests entered the huge hall in turn, after which they were seated at long tables, which were bursting with an abundance of dishes kindly offered by the royal family. “The Starks of Winterfell,” the man shouted and your family entered the hall. You followed your parents straight to the table in the center, at which the Targaryen couple was already sitting with the king and that famous Princess Rhaenyra at their head. Finally, you were close enough that you could see a woman with dazzling white hair and sharp purple eyes. Your breath caught somewhere in the depths and you couldn’t look away. It seems at this moment the ice and skepticism inside you broke, burst into a thousand pieces. You had to lower your head according to the rules of etiquette, but you couldn’t tear yourself away from contemplation. And when she finally looked at you, when your eyes met, you realized that you had problems. “Your Grace, this is our son Rob and eldest daughter Y/N.” Your father, as the head of the family, introduced his children and added, “I hope that Rob can claim the place of your husband Princess Rhaenyra.”

At these words, you remembered why you were here and a little jealousy pricked somewhere in your chest. You were almost jealous of your brother. But who are you to be jealous, because you just met. This is all becoming too strange, but so tempting. You sat down and the evening began.

Wines of different varieties continually filled the glasses of rich gentlemen, everyone laughed, joked and discussed who the heiress would choose as her husband. The Lannisters were sitting next to you and you could hear snatches of greasy jokes about how their eldest son could have Rhaenyra in all poses. Anger boiled inside you, how could this bastard say such things about this woman. “And they also say that her sons are bastards, and she is a whore.” The loud laughter of the Lannisters infuriated you even more. “Then your house is no better for having sworn allegiance to a whore.” You thought you said it quietly, but they apparently heard you.

“I didn’t hear what the pup from Winterfell was barking just now?” Everyone who was at your table fell silent and the whole room also paid attention to this. “I said what I meant.” The man was already deeply drunk and clearly in the mood for a fight. He stood up and you stood up next, you were the same height. “If you are so brave, then say out loud what you think of the princess.” Rhaenyra's purple eyes watched your quarrel carefully, it would be a lie to say that she did not look at you all evening, knowing that all the men in this room would be denied. She definitely liked your spark and wanted to see what happened next.

“I said that her sons are bastards, and she is a whore.” The man said the last word slowly, syllable by syllable, everyone present was in suspense. King Viserys took out his favorite blade. "I'll cut out your filthy tongue." As soon as he finished the phrase, a knife, prudently hidden under a fur coat, appeared in your hand and pinned Lannister’s palm to the table. He tried to get it. “There are a lot of vital veins in this part of the arm; if you try to pull it out, you will bleed to death.” The white cloaks immediately drew their swords and stood ready. Rhaenyra's entire being was hypnotized in delight by your actions and words, at that moment she chose her spouse. The entire Lannister family stood up and was ready to tear you apart.

"Get them out." For the first time that evening, Rhaenyra's voice broke the silence of the event. The bastard's face lit up with a smile. “My princess, thank you...” But before he could finish speaking, the guards twisted his hands, pulling the knife out of his palm, causing the man to let out a bitter scream. The entire Lannister family was disgracedly eliminated from the feast; there was silence for several more minutes, only whispers were heard from different sides.

"What are you doing." Your father pulled you by the arm, urging you to sit down, and glared at you with eyes full of rage. “Your mother asked you not to take weapons with you.” “She asked not to take the sword, dear father.” Rhaenyra stood up. “Today, to our great regret, unpleasant and unacceptable events occurred for the royal court.” She paused, her gaze returning to you and a smile gracing her lips. “But let’s not let these events overshadow our holiday, let’s raise our glasses and have a feast.” The crowd cheered and raised their glasses as they praised Princess Rhaenyra's wisdom and resilience. The celebration continued until late at night, you drank several glasses of wine after the incident and by the end you were decently drunk.

All evening you kept looking at Rhaenyra, your head was filled with thoughts about how beautiful and wise she is, about how wrong you were, how you regret that you didn’t want to go to the capital. But then these euphoric thoughts were darkened by the fact of her imminent marriage to one of the men of these noble houses and perhaps even to your brother.

You headed to your chambers, every now and then passing by local servants. Your legs dragged you heavily, your mind only thought about taking a warm bath and washing away inappropriate thoughts about the heiress. The heavy door opened with a slight creak, letting you into the semi-darkness of the room. You thought that you asked the servants to extinguish all the candles, but for some reason they were burning. Your gaze caught on an unfamiliar figure standing with his back to you, and the knife that had recently been in the Lannister’s bastard was again in your hand, waiting to defend yourself from intruders.

"You're a little warrior aren't you?" A velvety voice broke the silence and the stranger turned to face you. You immediately lowered the knife. “Your Grace, forgive me, I didn’t know it was you.” You immediately bent your knee in front of her. You were absolutely at a loss and the whole situation was a little confusing, why was the princess, the heir to the throne, waiting for you in your chambers in the middle of the night? “No need for formalities, please stand up.”

She walked through your chambers looking at some of your personal belongings until she found the sword. “Oh, this is your main weapon, as I understand it, you don’t to swing a knife every time of course ...” she bent down to take a closer look at the sparkling silver blade. “Such a beautiful thing, to match the owner.” Her compliment made your already red cheeks flush. “Did you want to talk about what happened, Your Grace?” you desperately wanted to change the topic.

“Did your mother ever tell you the legend of soulmates?” You were dumbfounded by her question. “Your Grace, I don’t quite understand...” She continued to walk around the room. “Don’t they really tell such stories in the north?” Her tone sounded fakely upset. “They say I know one.” “Then tell me too.”

You didn’t understand anything, Rhaenyra Targaryen came to you at night to listen to fairy tales for children? Perhaps something was put in the wine and now you were hallucinating, but it seemed like everything looked real. The woman lit the fireplace and, unbecoming for a future queen, sat down on the soft fur in front of the fire. She looked up at you, inviting you to sit next to her, you obeyed. The crackling of logs, the heat of the fire and the soft floral perfume of Rhaenyra lulled to sleep.

“My mother... told me when I was a child that there was a belief...” you cleaned the throat. “That every person has their own soulmate, but not everyone is able to find it, it’s like a person who was created by the seven gods just for you.” Rhaenyra began to unravel her tight braid; her head began to hurt unpleasantly from her hairstyle. You watched out of the corner of your eye as her snow-white strands gradually fell onto her shoulders. “And how do you understand who exactly your person is?” She encouraged you to continue. “I don’t remember exactly, but they said that when you see him or her, you will immediately understand, just the first glance or the first meeting and…boom.” "Boom?" She asked again, not quite understanding your strange wording. "Yes." You were looking at the burning logs when Rhaenyra's hand covered yours. She has already unbraided her hair. “Do you want to brush them?” Something strange was clearly happening. But who are you to refuse, you nodded and took the wooden comb brought from Winterfell from the nightstand. Hands carefully took strands of silver hair and combed them, as if they would break from the wrong movement.

“Do you believe in this legends?” You thought for a second. “I’m not sure, or rather I didn’t believe it before, but now these fairy tales don’t seem so stupid to me.” You put comb down, combing all hair perfectly. “I don’t understand why these questions are asked, Your Grace.” Your head was a complete mess due to the mixture of alcohol and adrenaline caused by the woman next to you. “Please call me Rhaenyra.” She turned to face you. “You understand everything, little warrior, don’t lie to me.” The woman moved closer and closer until she placed one hand on your shoulder. "Your Grace...Rhaenira." She leaned in so close that her lips were almost touching yours. "I want you." You looked into bright purple eyes, which shone yellow in the firelight. “Tell me the wolf of Winterfell, do you want me?” Her perfume smelled so delicious, her soft skin, white as her hair, that the dress did not hide, begged to be touched, “I...yes please, I want you.”

Rhaenyra's lips touched yours, sharing the sweetness of the recently drunk wine. One of the woman's hands grabbed the collar of your velvet dress and began to pull it down your shoulders to free your soft breasts. She carefully laid you on your back, on the soft fur, holding the back of your head. Her lips moved to her neck, then to her shoulder and then wrapped around her pink nipple. The action caused you to place your hand on her head, stroking her silver hair. The princess's hands lifted the skirt of the dress to the waist and stroked the skin of your soft thighs. "Cute little thing." She giggled and touched your lips again. The kiss was untidy, but full of tenderness and desire. Rhaenyra relieved you of underwear, her fingers slipped inside without a barrier, you were completely wet, just for her, but then she remembered. “Is this your first time?” She stopped any action, waiting in horror for an answer. "Yes, my grace." Rhaenyra buried her nose in the crook of your neck and began to kiss you, whispering, “I’m sorry, I should have asked earlier.” Your hand rested on hers that was still between your legs. “Please continue, I want this more than anything.”

And she continued, gently pounding and curling her fingers to hit that sensitive spot inside that made you see stars and whine like a pup. "Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra, oh please my grace." Your hand touched the sensitive bud for additional stimulation. “Oh fuck, fuck...I'm gonna...” “Cum for me, cum for your queen.” Her movements became faster and clearer until you came, squeezing around her long fingers, biting your hand so as not to scream from the new sensations that she was giving you. She pulled out and showed you her hand, which sparkled in the firelight from your release, and then licked every last drop, causing your eyes to darken.

When you came to your senses, you stood up, only to strip completely and push Rhaenyra towards the bed, urging you to sit on it. "Please let me return the favor." You knelt in front of her, lifting the skirt of her dress up to expose her stockinged legs. Your lips kissed every centimeter of skin, no one worshiped it like you. When your mouth reaches her pussy, you notice that her arousal has left a wet mark on the bed linen. The tongue draws a line along the entire length, collecting her arousal, and the woman moans, lowering her hand to stroke your cheek. “My little savior, tell me, would you have killed him if I had not intervened?” You kiss her palm. "Yes my grace." And you hug her sensitive bud with your lips, simultaneously pushing three fingers inside, immediately picking up a fast pace. "Oh Gods!" She moans and screams without being embarrassed to be heard, the way you stretch her drives the woman crazy. “Fuck, that’s it!” and “Yeah right there, that’s my good girl.” You fuck her, trying to please your queen as best as possible and feel how she clench around your fingers. “Fuck fuck Y/N!” She cums, for a long time, and you fuck her through orgasm until she whines from overstimulation, asking her to stop.

You move onto the bed and lie on top of her again, kissing her. “I didn’t believe in soulmates until I saw you.” She hugs you, covering your naked body. You lie there, again inhaling the aroma of her perfume and not believing in the reality of what happened. “I would like to believe that it’s true,” she replies and you think.

“Have you already chosen someone to be your spouse?” You say this quietly, in a whisper. It was at this moment that you remembered why your family came here in the first place and how you may have acted meanly towards your brother. She laughs and you don't understand. "Yes, I chose you."

You lift your head sharply, looking into those purple eyes to see if she's deceiving you. “But...what if people are against it, what will you do?”

She thought about it, she knew that there would be dissatisfied people. “Then I will personally give Syrax the command to burn to the ground anyone who questions my choice.”

#house of the dragon #rhaenyra is my queen #rhaenyra targaryen #queen rhaenyra #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #hotd rhaenyra

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yesimwriting · 5 months ago

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A Matter of Timing

Midway part 2!! read part one here: Midway

Summary: Despite the hardships of your marriage to Aegon, the two of you reach a new understanding during the aftermath of his accident.

Warnings/info: forced marriage turned to awkward, subtle pining masquerading as friendship, descriptions of (chronic) pain, aegon's recovery being sped up slightly through a small time skip for the sake of plot, slight aemond slander, canon compliant incest (reader is rhaenyra's daughter)

----

The light spilling in through the window is a beacon, the warmth of it offering the king's apartments something beyond the somber sterility that followed his father throughout his final years.

At times, if Aegon allows his mind to dwell on the similarities between his situation and Viserys's the ache of his body morphs into something else, an all consuming beast that nearly makes him wish Sunfyre's wing had never cradled his broken body. It'd be a simple thing to spend the rest of his days being constantly mended within the safe confines of this room.

Someone else would rule in his place--like his mother and grandsire had done for his father--likely the same man, the same brother that betrayed him, and Aegon's role as a vestigial only ever visited out of obligation would be cemented into reality.

"I'm sure you're tired of novels..." The voice is not much different than the sun's light, a thing of warmth. His father did not have anything similar to you. "But I do not have much to speak of."

Aegon believes it. His authority was one of the few things holding you to your position. Now, with him here, he imagines your existence within the Red Keep has only grown more precarious. His mother had been petitioning to separate you from the monarchy since before the incident. He can't imagine anyone of significance telling you anything.

"Your small council meets often, which seems to be occupying a great deal of your mother's time." Your summary is blank, straightforward as you search your thoughts for information he might be interested in. "Aemond's recently been named regent, though I'm sure someone must have told you that already."

Aemond. The confirmation of his suspicions jabs at him, the assuring nature of your voice briefly losing its hold on him. He begs his body, his mind to cry out...All he can manage is a rasp that's almost a name and twitch of his fingers.

The seat you've pulled next to his bed side creaks as you shift. You've always been encouraging of his movements, invested in each sign of the life still clinging to him in a way that implies a devotion someone like you could never feel for him. "Aegon?" He tries again, another ragged distortion of his brother's name. "Are you--Do you want him?"

No. You are the only one that seems to be on his side entirely. You may detest his family, you may desire your mother's rule, but his recovery matters to you. Even with your care, he has no way to express what he needs to.

He squints his eyes open, a task that takes more from him than he'd ever admit. His sight is weak, the side of his face that took the worst of Vhagar's flames agitated by the effort. You're close enough for him to make out your features, your expression. With your eyebrows pinched together like that, you look a little younger, like the girl that used to pretend to understand the crude jokes made by her brothers and uncles.

You shift closer, your hand finding a place on his bed. With trembling fingers, Aegon manages to place his hand over yours. Your gaze dips downwards, briefly landing on where your fingers meet before finding his features again. You study him with a focus that'd be unnerving coming from anyone else.

Your lips part before you're ready to speak. "You don't want Aemond here." It's not a question.

Your understanding reaches something deep inside of him. The relief offers him the strength needed to tilt his chin downwards, an approximation of a nod. You let out a breath, a question clearly waiting on the tip of your tongue.

The sound of assured footsteps stops you from asking it. You press your lips together, attention shifting towards the room's entrance. The door groans as it's pulled open, the footsteps continue, clearer now. Aegon's eyes flit towards the doorway in time to see his brother.

Instead of looking at the results of his betrayal, Aemond's eye settles on something just past Aegon. You. "Your grace."

Dread coils itself inside Aegon's stomach. His fingers bend as much as he can will them to, his hold on you attempting to convey anything that might get you to stay away from Aemond.

Overnight, Aemond has been consumed by a monster that's fed off his loyalty, leaving nothing in its wake but a shell of who his brother used to be. That beast has no place near you.

Your eyes don't leave Aemond, but your fingers do press into his, a subtle confirmation of something. "My lord."

Aemond steps forward, his hands politely held behind his back. "How is my brother?" Another step towards his bed, towards you. Aegon's body aches with the desire to move, to place an even greater wedge between you and Aemond. "You are by his side more than ever these days."

Your lips press together, a tight lipped smile that doesn't reach your eyes. "It seems someone should be." The lack of subtlety in your comment seems to hit you a moment too late. In an attempt to remedy your mistake, you tack on something polite, "With you all understandably concentrating on the war efforts and ruling over your people. You more than most, prince regent."

Your shift to docility paired with the reminder of Aemond's new position seems to work. The corner of Aemond's mouth pulls itself upwards, a predator's smile. "So you've heard."

"Your mother told me this morning," you pause, "She often comes by during the mornings when Aegon's bandages are replaced to oversee his recovery." Aemond moves even closer, his knees practically against the side of Aegon's mattress. "It feels odd to congratulate you considering the circumstances, but I am sure it is still a great honor to serve your realm."

Aemond's single eye focuses on your expression. Aegon feels the inflation of his lungs stall. "Thank you, my queen." His brother's gaze does not leave you. "You seem to have taken to your own service." Aegon's stare does not leave you. "Mornings, evenings, sometimes through supper...you stay by your husband's side." He lets out a low breath. "Though noble, I do worry that you are not making enough time for your own rest."

The concern in Aemond's voice ignites something in Aegon's blood. It is not enough to disfigure him and steal his throne, now Aemond needs his wife as well. This is another aspect of Aemond's greed that Aegon should have long ago suspected.

Despite your questionable parentage and the circumstances surrounding your union, your beauty has never been deniable. Of course Aemond had seen it as well. Your way of being is another factor that made being forced into this marriage tolerable, even when you hated him most, your arguments and protests had never been cruel, they had only been vexing in the most intriguing way possible. Aegon should have known that, too, would not go unnoticed by his brother.

Aegon's fingers tighten around yours. "Though appreciated, your concern is unnecessary." Your voice is even, words measured. "I often rest in my own apartments, as they are connected to my husband's, which means that I do not have to worry about him needing something and no one being around to hear him."

"Your loyalties to the king are admirable." Aemond moves even closer to Aegon's bed, his knees pressing into the bed's side. "And they have been noticed. We are both aware of the skepticism some hold towards you because of your mother, but no one can deny that you are a good queen. You are poised, intelligent, and beloved by the small folk."

Aemond extends an arm over Aegon's form, his fingers gently brushing against the edge of your hairline, pushing a stray strand of hair back into place. "And I plan to look after you in the ways your husband cannot, as my brother would have wanted."

If Aegon were capable of full movement, he'd take his brother's remaining eye. As if sensing his unease, or perhaps even feeling some of your own, your hand squeezes his. "That is very kind of you, my lord. Thank you."

He nods, straightening fully. "Of course. I must now leave you both, the small council is waiting for me. I was only given a moment to check on the king's health."

"Yes, attend to the king's small council, your brother is well looked after."

Aemond presses his lips together, his expression uncertain. "I am sure."

With that, Aemond turns around. His footsteps are even, unhurried as he moves towards the room's entrance. You're quiet as he leaves, attention focused on the doorway.

After a long moment, once you are certain that Aemond is no longer within the confines of Aegon's apartments, you scoff. "I wouldn't want him involved in my recovery, either."

Your thumb drags against his knuckles, the contact so soft it borders on overwhelming. "But you--the two of you were close, weren't you?" Your eyebrows pinch together curiously. "At least, relatively so. You defended him after..." You blink, eyes glossier than they were a moment ago. "After Luke."

Aegon should have known then that Aemond was never meant to be an integral part of his reign. That type of instability, that connection to rage...loyal as a hound. The only thing his brother feels a sense of duty towards is his own ambition.

If he had punished his brother for Lucerys's death, exiled him, he wouldn't be here. You'd also--it would have been an opportunity to demonstrate his commitment to his wife.

"I--" His throat burns around the syllable. You blink, the grief melting away from you as you focus on his words. "Things are different now." The energy it takes to form the words is not worth the cost. He cannot even decide what to focus on. You--comforting you, or attempting to explain Aemond's betrayal.

You squeeze his hand. "Even when it hurt, a part of me always understood why you sided so adamantly with Aemond. That is not to say that I was not angry..." He remembers your rage, the threats you had made again and again before breaking down. Aegon said nothing as you cried, but he did smooth circles against your back until you fell asleep. "I would have done anything for my brother."

You let out a low breath, the grief behind your eyes melting into something more present. "You are speaking more more these days." There's a warmth to the phrasing that soaks into his skin. "It is...assuring." Your fingers press into his. "If you do not mind me asking, why do you not wish to see Aemond?"

Aegon watches you openly, taking in your features and the softness behind your eyes. After everything that happened between the two of you, the circumstances of your marriage, you found it in you to tend to him as he struggled to not lose his hold on life. How could he repay your kindness by telling you the truth?

You're quicker to action when it comes to defending others, he had seen it in the way you spoke of Lucerys. As of now, Aemond seems to like you, or at the very least, want you. And though the thought makes his skin crawl, that is a much safer position for you than knowing what Aemond is. At the very least, until Aegon recovers enough to be in a position to defend you.

"He saw me go after Meleys after--he told me not to." The lie leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He squeezes your hand, reminding himself what he's doing this for. "And--and he is ruling now, he should--he should remain focused."

You watch him for a moment, eyebrows pinched together uncertainly. He lets out a breath, slowly moving his arm. Aegon ignores his pain as he lifts your hand to his lips. What the gesture takes from him is returned by your smile.

----

Evenings are usually his respite, the time between the late afternoon and true nightfall.

These fleeting hours provide him something much needed. A way of pretending that he is no patient, no burden. With no one around to hover and spare him pitiful glances, Aegon can almost imagine that his life has gone unchanged.

Especially during the evenings in which you join him. The solitude softens you, allowing you to speak freely and sometimes even jest about some of the happenings of his court. You’re rarely able to update him on any significant political changes, but he finds the gossip you can offer him distracting enough—or, at the very least, your delivery of the rumors is.

Tonight, however, there have been no stories recounting a supposed affair between Ser Criston Cole and some unknown woman or of the changes in the small folk’s attitudes. There has only been silence and the flickering of candlelight.

He glances towards the seat to left of his bed, one of your books abandoned in your place. The cane one of the maesters had encouraged him to begin practicing with is propped up against the wall behind the chair. Perhaps you are starting to realize that what drew you to Aegon was not some newfound appreciation of your connection, but your goodness, your desire to repair him the way you would a wounded animal.

Though still healing, Aegon has made it a few paces away from death's doorstep. He's been instructed to practice moving as much as he can bear to, to get used to strain of his limbs and the protests of his body. However, Aemond and the small council have made a point of suggesting Aegon does all he can to keep his recovery process away from prying eyes for the sake of morale.

The soft sound of footsteps echoes from beyond one of the walls that keep him from the outside world.

"I appreciate you taking the time to escort me to my husband's apartments, my lord."

Aegon's fingers dig into his sheets, his body incapable of giving him the force needed to exhaust any real frustration. That's another thing that seems to have changed in these last few days. With the crown on his head, Aemond has pivoted towards a new goal--you.

"These are uneasy times, my queen, I am glad to be assured of your safety."

His queen. Aemond has done all he can to protect your position within the Red Keep. He continues to promote you, partly out of a way of placating the small folk that support you and mainly as some kind of ploy to draw you in.

"Thank you, again," you say, "I won't keep you any longer, your time is valuable."

Without another word from his brother, the door to his apartments creeks open. Less than a minute later, the final door dividing the two of you is pushed open slowly. The hinges still creek, but you're still more careful than you need to be as you continue forward.

You turn to face him before the door can fall shut. "You're sitting." The words are said with such warmth, Aegon's frustrations are nearly banished from his mind.

"You've seen me sit."

His flatness does not quell your joy. "I know, but you're not with the maester...and it--it's later than you'd usually sit." You continue forward, stopping at the foot of his bed. You allow yourself to watch him openly. "And your skin is losing its yellow undertones." You place a hand on the foot of his bed, eyes shifting away from him. "Watching you recover...it has brought me a great deal of peace."

There's a hint of vulnerability in the way you stare at his bedding. Aegon lets out a breath. You are not the conniving type, and you have no way of knowing what Aemond really is. "Well, you deserve a great deal of credit." The words are enough to get you to begin walking again. "I do not know where I'd be without you."

You smile, stalling at the other side of his bed. "I am wonderful, I know." You place your hand against the bedding, but not yet pulling them back. "In reality, I wish there was something I could to ease your pain. You are the one that is still recovering from Meleys's flames."

He turns his head enough to look at you. "You deserve a great deal of credit for that as well."

You smile again, this time the look a much more genuine thing. "Can I stay in here tonight?"

The question is one of the few formalities that you still cling onto. You sleep in his bed more often than your own these days. "I'd never ask you to leave my bed."

You roll your eyes as you push back his sheets. You push off your shoes before crawling into his bed. He enjoys your proximity more than he'd ever be able to tell you.

You settle close enough for him to be able to feel the warmth radiating off of your skin. "I missed you tonight."

"Then perhaps you should have taken your supper with me."

You let out a low breath. "I wanted to, but Aemond asked me about how often I have supper here, and I couldn't think of what to say."

Aegon cannot help his scoff. "And when Aemond calls..."

You turn to face him, your body shifting even closer. "He is acting as the king, he is your regent--"

"My regent, my throne, my wife." The embittered words come out before he can stop them.

"What?" You're staring at him with wide, bewildered eyes. "You cannot possibly think that I, of all people, have been disloyal to you."

Regret immediately jabs at his chest. His anger, his fear, none of it has anything to do with you. "No, I did not mean it in that way."

"I am here when you go to bed, I am here when you rise, I am here more than I am anywhere else. In what moment would I have had time to be unfaithful?" You push your weight onto your knees, hurt pooling in your eyes. "Perhaps while eating with your family, or--or sitting with the ladies of a court that loathes me?"

The yellow glow of the candlelight highlights the shininess of your eyes. "I tolerate my brother's murderer because we are married, because I am left no other option. Do not ever accuse me of betraying you or Luke like that ever again."

The words are sharp, tears brimming in your eyes as you force them out. Guilt ensnares some vital force in his chest, the pain of his body amplified by reget.

He whispers your name, the sound raspy and pathetic. "It is not you, it is the fucking traitor that is determined to take everything of value from my life."

You blink, the self righteous anger and offense briefly leaving you. "Traitor?" The mistake leaves his face warm. "What--" Your eyes flit towards the door. "Aegon, I am going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me. If these last weeks have meant anything to you, I want you to be honest with me."

He swallows. You reach for his hand. "Your injuries--are they from Meleys's flames?"

Aegon squeezes your palm to his with a force that leaves pain pulsing up his arm. Beneath the weight of your stare, your silent pleading, he breaks. Aegon shakes his head.

You exhale, an odd sort of tranquility coloring your features. "Okay." Carefully, you bring his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss against his knuckles. The serenity of your movements throws him. "Thank you for your honesty."

Aegon watches as you set his hand down gently. You begin to shift back, forcing Aegon to straighten his spine even further. "Where--where are you going?"

"To tell the guards that their prince regent, the same man that removed his own mother from the small council, the same man that killed my--" Your voice cracks at the last syllable. "My brother, has now attempted to kill--" The words waver before breaking off entirely. "To kill the king."

Aegon reaches for you, his fingers finding their way around your wrist. He latches onto you as if you might disappear if he allows you to. "We cannot say anything."

The sentence pushes you away, sending you to that distant place that took you after your brother's passing. Aegon ignores the way his side protests as he sits up even further, his hand coming to rest against your spine.

"Guards know no loyalty beyond orders and their wages, Aemond is in a position of immense power. You are beloved by the people, but hold little standing in your own court." He runs his knuckles against your lower back. "Look at me. Any number of incidents resulting in my death could be deemed an accident. I can't--I can't protect myself, let alone you."

It takes you a moment to return. "He killed my brother." Tears begin to run down your face. "He almost killed you." You're crying openly now. "We need--we--"

"I know," he whispers, "But as of now, we have nothing except things to lose." Aegon moves his hand, allowing it to settle against your waist. "He likes you now, and that--that is a safe thing."

You inhale sharply, the sound a little more than a sniffle. "I don't care."

"I do." This is one area that he is unwilling to compromise in. "I won't risk you." He releases your side in favor of reaching for your face, his thumb wiping at already spilled tears. "Promise me that you will not do anything. Please."

"We cannot let him get away with this."

"We won't," Aegon vows, "Because we will wait until the right time. I will heal further. He will make a mistake, and if I do not hear of it, you will." He drags his thumb against your cheek again, his fingers settling beneath your jaw. "Promise me."

After a moment, you nod. "I promise." The words are shallow and uncertain, but Aegon does not fear them. You mean your promises. "What if he hurts you again?"

"As long as I am feeble and making no attempts to regain control or expose him, he has no need to." You look up at him, expression unconvinced. "And he will not do anything in front of you."

You dip your chin downwards, a halfhearted nod. "I will not leave you." There's an earnestness there that rattles something inside of him. Your unflinching resolve to promise that you're there for him, that this is not his battle alone.

Aegon shifts forward, his body begging him to resume neutrality as he begins to pull you towards him. You're quick to respond, leaning into his touch. Aegon presses his lips against yours.

He's kissed you before--at your wedding, a few times during your handful of attempts at producing a child, and even less times during the day when particularly enjoying your company. But this is something else, something more desperate and meaningful. His lips drag against yours with less ease than he'd like, a dull ache nearly taking him out of the moment.

You pull back first, your breaths ragged as you look at him. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

It was not simple, but far from agonizing enough to make it unworthwhile. "Do not apologize for that." You nod without looking him in the eye. Aegon moves back, allowing his back to rest against cushioning. "Go have your ladies help change you into your night gown, and come back."

It's early for you to get ready for bed, but no one would find it strange. The two of you are married, which means you are welcome to spend as much time together as you'd like. Besides, Aegon likes the thought of you leaving now and not needing to go anywhere until morning.

You agree without question, moving away from him with a subtle nod. "I'll return in a moment."

You leave out of the door that connects his apartments to yours. Before he knows it, you're knocking on the door once before entering his space again. You seem a little lighter, hair brushed and face washed. You return to bed wordlessly, covering yourself with his sheets before resting your head against his shoulder.

Aegon's hand settles against your knee. "I walked a little longer with the maester today."

"That's wonderful," he can hear the smile in your voice. "I'd like to see that. Tomorrow I'll be here instead of sitting with the ladies."

The thought is easing. "I'll put on a good show for you."

"I'm sure you will." You place your hand over his. "I know that you said not to say anything, and it's a timing issue...but there has to be something we can do."

He turns over his hand, his fingers intertwining themselves with yours. "It would help weaken Aemond's claim if I were to have another, more evident heir."

The implications of the statement take you a moment to understand. Once you do, you squeeze his hand a little tighter. "Oh."

The few times the two of you had attempted to create an heir had been far from unenjoyable, just a little uncertain. After Lucerys's death, you were clearly and understandably not in the mood to be looked at a moment too long let alone touched. Aegon obliged you, and would be willing to keep leaving you to yourself if that's what you want.

"We could go back to trying to produce an heir," you mumble, body becoming a little more rigid against him.

He runs his thumb along your knuckles. "Really?"

"I mean, once you're healed enough to feel physically ready," you pause, a little unsure of yourself, "It seems a fitting course of action, and we are married."

He smiles to himself, lifting your hand to his lips. "We are."

----

a/n i'm leaving for my birthday trip tonight so if u liked this u should def send me aegon asks to come back to 🙏💗

Taglist: @dracaryxzs @callsignwidow @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @kazupop @hikaerys @froggyfrip @theargoblog @targaryenswhxre @woodlandwrites @familyshow-orisit @dinomecanico @forevercountingstars @bibli0thecary @magictrump @tempo-rary-fix @mrs-starkgaryen

#hotd #hotd x reader #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second x reader #aegon the second #aegon #aegon targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #got x reader #got

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itsbeeble · 1 year ago

Text

TRY HARD

SUMMARY: Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

GENRE: smut, crack, fluff, minimal angst

PAIRING: Lee Juyeon x afab!reader (ft. sangyeon, sunwoo, and chanhee)

WC: 8.7k (oops)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: name calling (reader calls Juyeon stripper boy, baby, and pretty boy. Juyeon calls reader pretty girl), swearing, mentions of college parties, Y/N roasts Juyeon like a lot, Juyeon stops a door with his foot, one bed trope (for like two seconds), sunwoo slander (learning from Fawn <3) Juyeon is not god's strongest soldier, masturbation (m and kinda f), p in v sex, implied unprotected sex, restraints are used, dom!reader kinda, bratty!Juyo kinda, really poor attempts at humor, i think there's more but that covers the big stuff

A/N: This was NOT supposed to be almost 9k. It was supposed to be 3k at MOST but i will not lie i will prolly end up doing this again for most of the fics I'm putting out for this collab oops. Anywayyyyy let's kick off the collab with arguably my funniest fic.

The first time you meet Lee Juyeon, you’re dressed in sleep shorts and the biggest sweatshirt in your closet. He’s standing at your door, and for a moment you can’t help but be confused by the fact that yes, there is a hot man in a white tank top and cargo pants leaning against your doorframe. And yes, he is, in fact, there for you and not the girls living down the hall from you.

And, to be fair, it wasn’t your fault that you thought he was a stripper. Really, it wasn’t. It’s not every day that you see a guy with a body to die for and the face of an angel.

“Are you some sort of stripper?” For a moment, the two of you are quiet. There’s a look of pure astonishment on his face that eventually turns into him fighting back a grin.

“Do you want me to be?” His tongue brushes over his lower lip while he scans you up and down and you scoff.

“No. The girls you’re probably looking for are down the hall, the last door on the right.” You begin to shut the door. “Have fun.”

“Wait!” His foot catches in the door before you can slam it shut and you hear him swear loudly. “Shit, that did not feel good.”

“Are you fucking stupid?” You swing the door open again, scowling at him. “Why would you try to catch this heavy ass door with your foot?”

“I thought it would look cool!” He winces, one hand gripping your door frame and the other cradling his aching foot. “Like in the movies!”

“I don’t know if you know this…” you trail off, squinting at him and realizing you have no idea who this man is. “Stripper boy,—”

“Juyeon,” you can practically hear his teeth grinding as he speaks. You hum.

“Stripper boy,” you bob your head. “That’s what I’m gonna call you.”

“Please don’t—”

“Anyway,” you interrupt again. “I don’t know if you know this, but romance movies are fictional. Of course, it’s not gonna look like the prop door and they’re gonna catch it like it’s nothing. This, however,” you hit your fist against your door, “is solid metal. Not gonna feel good when you catch this shit, dumbass.”

“Whatever,” Juyeon rolls his eyes and straightens his body out. “I was just making my rounds across campus, wanted to see if you’d be interested in supporting your local fraternity.”

You raise an eyebrow, reaching your hand out to take the flier from his hand.

College Hunks Hauling Junk!

Need to get rid of some junk? Well, these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited-time offer)

Scan HERE to book your appointment!

“College hunks hauling junk,” you can’t help but laugh at the name and take the flier from Juyeon’s hands. He grins at you. “People are actually paying you guys to haul their shit away?”

He shrugs. “It’s free, technically. You’re allowed to donate, but we’re really just doing it for free. You know, help out fellow students and spread the word.”

“You sure it wouldn’t be easier to just do some stripping if you can’t pay the rent?” You ask. “Also, what do you mean spread the word?”

“I’m glad you asked.” Juyeon points a finger at the bottom of the flier, completely disregarding the first part of your sentence. Fuck, his hands are big.

This ad also doubles as your invitation to Tau Beta Zeta’s parties for the rest of the semester. Cash this in at any time and get into ANY parties for free! (Code word will be given at the time of flier being cashed in) (Girls get in for free, Guys $5 @ the door)

“We’re having a little competition with the sorority down the road from us,” Juyeon explains. “Whoever has more people by the end of the semester gets to host the end-of-the-year party and the other frat or sorority has to buy food and drinks.”

You stare at the paper for a second, pondering your options. Then you smile, look up at the man that you are still pretty damn sure is a stripper, and hand back the flier.

“I’m good, thanks.”

The door shuts, and you turn to go back to bed. The sound of paper sliding across the ground stops you, and you can see in the faint light that streams under your door that Juyeon slipped the flier into your room.

Fucking try hard.

The second time you see Lee Juyeon, he’s handing out fliers again. Only he isn’t walking around random apartment buildings with a weird seductive look that you honestly don’t doubt was working. This time, he’s in a hoodie and jeans and walking around the center of campus with people that you can only assume are his frat brothers.

At first, you almost don’t recognize him, but then his eyes meet yours, and you can see the corners wrinkle when he smiles. Again, you’re confused. Is he smiling at you?

Your head whips around, trying to find someone around you that he might be looking at, and when you turn around again, Juyeon is approaching you.

“Have you thought about it, pretty girl?” He asked and you stared at him dumbly for a moment. Did he just call you pretty girl?

“Thought about what?” He holds up that flier again, placing it in your hands similarly to the other night. “Oh.”

“Did you think I was kidding?” He leans down slightly, keeping eye contact. Your free hand places itself on his chest— which you hadn’t realized before was very solid— and pushes him back. He barely moves. In fact, you are the one who gets pushed back.

“Listen, stripper boy—”

“Juyeon—”

“Stripper boy,” you mimic the exasperated tone he uses with you. “If I wanted an invitation to a stereotypical frat party with a bunch of drunk 20-somethings and cheap beer and bad pizza and try-hard men like yourself, I would’ve gone by now.” You fold up the flier, smoothing out the edges before holding it out to him. He doesn’t take it, and you can see the gears turning in his brain.

“So what you’re saying,” he starts to smile and steps toward you again.”

“Stripper boy,” you warn.

“…is that there’s a chance?”

“Absolutely not, there is not a chance in hell that I’m gonna call some college hunks to haul junk out of my college apartment that I can barely afford to live in let alone pay you to take things out of.” Juyeon shrugs.

“Like I said, payment is optional and can come in…” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, “many different forms, pretty girl.”

“That’s gross, stripper boy.” You scrunch up your nose and he laughs. “Also, why are you calling me that?”

“Calling you what?” his smile only grows and you huff.

“Pretty girl.”

“Because you are a pretty girl.”

“No, I’m—” You catch yourself in the sentence when he leans forward onto the tips of his toes, ready to stop you. “You know what, fuck you. I know that was a dirty little trick and I’m not gonna fall for it just so you can swoop in and say something like oh nooo, don’t say that about yourself! You’re so pretty! And then you’ll tuck my hair behind my ear and you’ll try to kiss me and then—” You stop yourself again. Juyeon’s smile is almost scary at this point, stretching all the way across his face as if this had been his plan all along and you walked right into it.

“And then…?” He teases.

“…fuck you and your frat, stripper boy. God, you guys are such try-hards.”

You hold onto the flier this time, whether too embarrassed to give it back or genuine curiosity, you aren’t sure. You do know that you can’t stop the pounding in your chest, or the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Who was that?” Sunwoo slings an arm over Juyeon’s shoulder, both men watching you walk away with the flier held tightly in your hand. Juyeon smiles.

“Just someone I know.”

“Didn’t look like she was too happy to see you.” Sunwoo snickers and drops his arm down to stand straight. Juyeon turns to the younger man, the smile he had when standing with you now gone and replaced with a permanent scowl.

“Who even asked you, Sunwoo?”

The younger raises his hands in defense. “I’m just saying! It looked like she hated you. Oooh, maybe you’re finally gonna get that enemies-to-lovers arc that Eric is always— WHOA, HEY—” Sunwoo nearly trips over himself trying to get away from Juyeon as the older frat brother swings his arm out in his direction. “Don’t hurt this pretty face! How else is the soccer team gonna get their funds?” A hand in the shape of a finger gun finds its way under Sunwoo’s chin, and the star soccer player smirks.

“I think they’ll manage,” Juyeon swings his arm out again, wincing when Sunwoo lets out an ear-piercing squeal.

It’s like you’re seeing him everywhere. Every class you go to, it’s like he’s always there handing out fliers or chatting with his friends. And, unfortunately, every time you see him, he sees you too. He animatedly waves at you, calling your name or running over to you. Every time, you somehow end up with another flier to add to your collection.

For weeks you’ve been seeing him in places that you swear you’d never seen him in before. You swear that he’s not in your environmental course. You swear that he’s not in your sociology course. He just has to be following you.

That, or you just have shitty luck with Lee Juyeon.

It must be bad luck, you think as you watch the fire department evacuate your flooded building. It must be, you tell yourself as you stand there in the pouring rain in pajama shorts and a sweater, sans an umbrella. There’s nothing else it could be.

Your eyes narrow at the sight of Juyeon standing near a group of girls with those damned fliers in one hand and some umbrellas around the wrist of the other. Your hands tighten around your arms, body shaking from the cold of the rain. Your lips twist into a deep frown when he approaches you, his eyebrows knit together and his lips pursed at the sight of you. His mouth opens to say something, and you hold your hand up to stop him.

“Save it, stripper boy. I don’t want your fucking spiel right now.” His shoulders slump a little.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted an umbrella.” He holds one out, the last one on his arm. “You have to be freezing right now, and you’re absolutely soaked.” Your hand wraps around the umbrella, your eyes still narrowed with suspicion.

“Thanks…” he smiles and backs up to give you space to open it. You would never admit to his face that he was right. That you were freezing your ass off in this godforsaken weather.

“Are you okay?” You look up at him, sniff, and shrug.

“I mean, my home is currently flooding which leaves me homeless for at least a few days. It’s piss-pouring rain out here, I’m in my pajamas with all my clothing inside the flooded building, and now here you are probably trying to get me to buy from your stupid fundraiser thing.” You take a deep breath, finally looking him in the eye. “So no, I don’t think I’m okay, Juyeon. Thanks for asking.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then a small smile breaks onto his face.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me Juyeon.” You bite your tongue and turn to walk away from him. “Wait, fuck, Y/N it was a joke. I’m sorry.” He grabs your arm, pulling you back to him. You can see a little bit of panic in his gaze.

“Yeah, well it was a shitty joke.” You scoff.

“I know, poor taste, I was just trying to lighten the mood.” He pulls his hand from your arm, and you almost feel bad. It’s quiet between you two, and you think that this is the first time it’s ever been completely silent. Well, save for the chatter of other tenants and incoming sirens and the yells of officers.

“This fucking sucks,” you grumble, and Juyeon huffs out a laugh.

“Do you have anywhere that you go?”

You shake your head. “Nah, none of my friends have space for another person in their apartment or dorm.”

“You could stay with me.” He says it so fast, so suddenly, that you thought you misheard him at first.

“Excuse me?” Juyeon clears his throat, his cheeks and ears flushing and you can’t tell if it’s from the cold or embarrassment.

“I— I mean you— I’m just—” he stumbles over his words and you smile.

“Is the Lee Juyeon embarrassed right now? In front of little ol’ me, nonetheless?”

“I’m not embarrassed,” he snaps, pressing the back of one of his hands to his neck in a poor attempt to cool himself down. “I’m just— I—”

“Juyeon,” your hand comes up to his arm and he flinches. You let your arm drop down to your side. “Are you trying to ask me to stay with you while the building is being repaired?”

You’re smiling at him, and it’s like that tiny action brings back all of his previous confidence. He’s smirking again, leaning down under the tiny umbrella he gave you. It’s your turn to blush now, but your eyes don’t leave his.

“Because,” your voice nearly betrays you. “That would be a little…odd…wouldn’t it? A girl living with, what, ten men? People would talk.” He hums.

“But they would also find it odd if I just…left you to live in your car for god knows how long, wouldn’t they?” His hand is on your waist, and the breath in your lungs hitches.

“That’s true…” you hum and pull away from him. “I don’t have any clothes, though. I’d need to find some before doing anything.” Juyeon clicks his tongue and leans back, a thoughtful look taking over the previous…you don’t even know what to call what you were doing. Was he flirting with you? Were you flirting with him?

“That’s true,” he nods his head. “We can grab some from the store tomorrow? And for now, you can borrow some of my stuff— I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.” He stumbles over his words again, and you can’t help but laugh. “Kevin’s clothes might fit you better but— you’re laughing. Why are— why are you laughing at me.”

“You’re just—” You break into another fit of giggles, covering your mouth with your hand to try and muffle the noise. “God, you’re so dumb.”

“How am I dumb?” Juyeon pouts at you, and you know he just wants you to be comfortable.

“Never mind,” you wave him off, “let’s just get going. I’m tired and wet.” Juyeon raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. “Not like that, stripper boy.”

“I know,” he grins at you and tugs you by the sleeve to get you to start walking. “I just wanted to mess with you a little bit.”

“Seems like that’s all you do.” You roll your eyes. “And please tell me you drove here. I am not walking to the house in shorts and slippers.” Juyeon clicks his tongue.

“As if I would walk anywhere in this weather.” He reaches into his pocket and you hear the click of a button, and then the lights of a car in front of you light up. He jogs forward, grabbing the handle of the passenger side door for you with a bright smile on his face. “After you, m’lady.”

“What a gentleman,” you shut the umbrella and duck into the vehicle.

“Only for you, pretty girl.” He winks at you and shuts the door.

Juyeon is quiet when you exit his bathroom. Your hair is wrapped in a towel, your body swamped in Juyeon’s clothes. He’s lying flat on his back on his mattress, his legs dangling off the edge and his fingers drumming on his stomach. Your feet shuffle against the ground, the fabric of his sweatpants covering your feet entirely and dragging behind you. His t-shirt is almost like a dress on you, hanging down to your thighs and the sleeves baggy along your arms where it would be formfitting on him.

“Where should I put these?” Juyeon lifts his head, and you hear a sharp inhale. He’s staring at you, and the gaze is heavy with something you can’t place.

“You—” his voice cracks and he sits up fully, resting his elbows on his knees. “You can just toss them in the basket next to you. I’ll— I’ll wash it tomorrow.” You hum, doing as he says and tossing your clothing into the basket.

His room is…weirdly clean. At least, it’s cleaner than you expected it to be for a frat boy. There’s a bit of laundry scattered across the room, sure, but you don’t feel gross just standing there. The floor is clean, the bed is made.

The bed.

The one bed in the room.

“Where— where should I set up a spot to sleep?” You wring your hands behind your back.

“What?” Juyeon stares at you dumbly, his eyes blank and jaw dropped slightly. If you look closely, you swear you can see a puddle of drool on the floor in front of him. Unintentionally, you snort and immediately slap a hand over your mouth.

“I just— I mean this is your room, stripper boy.” You shrug, trying to keep the air as light as possible. “Where should I set up camp for the next three days?”

“You are not sleeping on the floor.” Juyeon shakes his head and pushes off the edge of his bed.

“Then where am I gonna sleep?”

“The bed?” He says it as if it’s obvious. “The fuck? You really thought I was gonna make you sleep on the floor?”

“Stripper boy, I am not sleeping in your bed.” You click your tongue.

“Yes, you are, pretty girl.” He takes a step toward you. “I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor! First of all, you’re a guest. Second of all, I’m a gentleman. Third of all, I’m—” he cuts himself short again and you raise an eyebrow.

“Well, then I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs. That’ll solve it.” You move to the door, but he grabs your upper arm and pulls you toward him. “Dude, you have got to stop grabbing me like that. It’s kind of annoying.”

“Sorry.” He exhales and lets go of your arm, brushing his hand across the skin he grabbed as if to soothe it. It sends sparks of heat through your arm, and you fight back a shiver. “I just— what if we share my bed?”

You stare at him for a moment.

Then another.

And then another.

And then Juyeon is wincing and stepping away from you.

“I was just— that was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“I mean…” you purse your lips. “If it solves the problem, then sure.”

“Wait seriously?” His eyes bug out of his head and you laugh. “You’re comfortable with that?”

“Stripper boy, if you thought I was gonna kick you out of your bed, then you have a whole new thing coming.” He rolls his eyes. “We can just…I dunno. Put pillows between us?”

“Yeah, that works. That works just fine.” He sighs heavily. Just fine. He’s gonna be just fine these next few days.

Juyeon realizes very quickly that it will not, in fact, be fine. He realizes this when he wakes up in the middle of the night, the pillows between the two of you thrown to the edge of the bed and your body wrapped around his like a vice. One of your legs is hooked around his, the other strewn across his hip to lock him down. You have one arm tucked under his, holding his shoulder while your free arm has slipped around his waist, under his shirt so your fingers are splayed across his abdomen. Your head is seemingly strategically placed on his chest, and he can feel every breath you release. He can feel every pulse of your heartbeat against his leg—

Wait.

…

Oh, this arrangement is not going to be good for his heart.

He tries desperately to shift away from you, to gently pry you off of him, anything to get the pounding in his chest to go away. Anything to stop the blood from rushing to his dick like some goddamn virgin. It’s a normal thing. It’s not something to get fucking hard over, Lee Juyeon. Pull yourself together.

It feels like ages before he’s able to pull himself free, nearly falling out of his bed to get away from you. He freezes in place when he hears you shift, a quiet moan leaving you when your sleeping self finds the spot Juyeon once lay frozen is now empty. His heart is pounding, his feet padding quickly against the floor to get to his bathroom. He’s quick to shut the door, cringing at the squeak of the hinges. Gotta get those fixed, he notes. For future reference, of course.

He’s hard in his sweats, his dick straining against the fabric, and his body feels like it’s on fire. Juyeon leans against the counter, tapping his foot anxiously while he stares at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and his pupils are blown out. He grips the marble counter, squeezing his eyes shut and praying to god that he softens soon because he cannot and will not jerk off to you. Not when you’re right there, one thin wall over.

Thinking that was a mistake. His dick twitches in his pants at the thought of you waking up and finding him in the bathroom, cock in hand, and frantically trying to rub one out.

Oh, he’s so fucked, he squeezes his eyes shut as he shoves his sweatpants down just enough to be able to grab himself. Just enough for him to spring free and let the cold air wash over him.

Juyeon is completely, royally fucked, and he knows it as he spits on his hand. He knows it when he wraps his hand around his cock. Juyeon knows it when his body shudders from the first pump of his hand, the brush of his thumb across his tip. He knows it when he fights the whine trying to erupt from his throat.

He knows it when he cums in his hand, ropes of white covering his palm when he places his hand over his tip to minimize the mess. He knows it when all he thought about was you. You and your pretty face. You who calls him stripper boy, who hasn't hesitated to shoot him down every chance you get. You who he’s pretty damn sure is into him in the same way he’s into you.

It’s hard for Juyeon to get back in his bed and lie down next to you knowing that just a few minutes ago he came in his hand to the thought of you. It’s even harder for him to fall back to sleep when you wrap yourself around him again, relaxing against his body and releasing a contented sigh. He tries so, so hard to relax with you, to steady his pounding heart.

God, he’s so fucked.

"When did you get here?” There’s a boy— a man, really— standing at the counter when you and Juyeon walk into the kitchen in the morning. The man is holding a ceramic Garfield mug that you assume is filled with coffee, and he’s got his phone in his free hand. You give him a short wave, and he nods back at you.

Juyeon had been odd the whole morning. Or, at least, the two hours you had been awake and the one hour since he’d woken up and immediately rolled to his feet to get away from you. Something about morning wood. Since then, he’d been keeping a healthy distance from you, flinching away from your touch and giving short responses to your questions and statements. It makes you nervous. Were you intruding? Did he regret asking you to stay?

“Last night,” Juyeon answers for you, leading you to the bar counter and pulling out a chair for you to sit in. “Y/N, this is Sangyeon. He’s the Tau Beta Zeta president. Sangyeon, this is Y/N. She’s gonna be staying with us for the next couple of days.”

Sangyeon squints at you, gnawing at his lip in thought.

“And you guys are…what? Friends? Lovers? Fuck buddies?” You scoff and Juyeon whips his head around, nearly spilling coffee onto his hand.

“None of the above,” you wave your hand and almost miss the flash of emotion in Juyeon’s eyes. “Just someone who needed a hand, and strip- Juyeon happened to be there.” Sangyeon turns to Juyeon with an inquisitive look on his face. Juyeon shakes his head and turns back to you with two mugs in his hand.

“I didn’t know how you take your coffee so I just threw some cream and a bit of sugar in there.” The mug he slides over to you is shaped like a ladybug, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the sight of his mug. Normal, compared to yours. Just plain white with text that says ‘Stupid people shouldn’t breed!’. “What’s so funny?”

“Just the…interesting arrangement of mugs you all have here.” You smile at Juyeon, but he just scoffs. Sangyeon excuses himself and pats Juyeon on the shoulder before making his exit up the stairs.

“I’ll have you know that I picked these all out.” He defends, but you can see the embarrassment in the flush of his cheeks, the dark color spreading to the tips of his ears. “You got a problem with them?”

“No, no,” you smile into your mug and take a sip. It’s bitter, and a bit watered down, but you’re grateful for the caffeine boost. “It’s cute, really. You made some great choices, stripper boy.”

“That sounded sarcastic,” Juyeon pouts at you and you shake your head.

“It wasn’t!” You reassure him, leaning your torso onto the counter. Juyeon stands near you now, on the shorter edge of the counter and he scoffs.

“Sure it wasn’t. Because you’re the most supportive person in the world of my decisions.” He turns away from you, staring at the magnetic words on the refrigerator instead of at you and you rise from your seat to stand by his side.

“Juyooo,” your voice is sing-song in tone and Juyeon fights every instinct inside of him that screams to pin you to the counter and fuck you senseless. “Are you mad at me?”

“Of course I am,” he rolls his eyes and tilts his chin up when you come to stand in front of him.

“Why?” You frown, but the corners of your lips fight to turn up.

“You made fun of me!”

“Yeah, but it was all in good fun!” You protest. “I think your choice of mugs was cute!”

“No you don’t,” he scoffs and crosses his arms. “You think they’re stupid.”

“No,” you shake your head. “I think they’re adorable.”

“Bullshit,” Juyeon says. “You think they’re stupid.”

“I do not.” You groan.

“You do!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do no—”

Juyeon’s lips are on yours, and you let out a startled gasp, your hand flying up and finding purchase on his chest.

You try to push him off, you really do! You think about it, you tell your body to push him off, and then somehow you end up pulling him closer, allowing your eyes to slip closed. Isn’t it so weird how that happens?

Your hand is holding his shirt tightly, keeping him close to you while your lips mesh in a sloppy kiss. His lips are rough against yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip and then his tongue slips out and soothes the bites. The repeated actions have your legs trembling, your breathing becoming shaky, and your hand that isn’t in his shirt rises to the back of his neck to tangle in his hair and pull him impossibly closer to you.

His hands are all over you. They run up and down your waist, brushing under the waistband of the sweatpants he lent you, pushing into your back to keep you close to him. They run under your shirt, grazing the underside of your shirt, and he smiles when he feels you exhale shakily against him.

You hesitantly, and ever so slowly, push your tongue out, letting it run across his lower lip and you’re a bit too pleased when he opens up for you immediately. He lets you push your tongue into his mouth, lets you explore, and is ever so patient with your hesitance.

Gently, oh so gently, he sucks on your tongue while you try to pull it back into your mouth and you release the tiniest, almost inaudible whine.

Apparently, to your complete dismay, this snaps Juyeon back into reality and he pulls away from you. He pulls away quickly, almost stumbling back and into some of the bar stools. You’re standing there, almost in a daze, and both of you just stare at each other for a moment. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, and Juyeon can tell that you’re regretting what the two of you just did.

And it hurts. It really hurts when you open your mouth, going to speak and nothing comes out. He smiles sadly.

“I should find a way to get to the store. You’re gonna need some clothes for the next few days.”

“Juyeon, wait—” You reach for him, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s fine, pretty girl.” He reassures you, but his voice breaks and betrays him. “No hard feelings. Let’s just forget it happened.”

“I don’t want to forget that!” You protest, but Juyeon just shakes his head.

“Like I said, pretty girl,” He grabs his mug and smiles at you. There’s no emotion behind it, at least not one that you want to recognize. “We gotta get you some clothes for the next three days.”

It’s infuriating how quickly he seems to move on. Three days pass by, and not once has he even hinted about talking about what happened. It was almost like he’d forgotten about it entirely.

Which, to your dismay, was exactly what he wanted you to do. It wasn’t as if you regretted the kiss, at least not in the way he thought. The regret that you knew you had let slip was from pulling away in the first place. You had only meant to come up for air, knowing that you would likely drown in him had you given yourself the chance. Now, due to your own stupid mistakes, the tables have turned for you.

He’d been avoiding you since you moved back into your apartment two days ago. He’d avoided you in the classes you were now all too aware that you shared. It stung that he no longer sought you out, no longer yelled your name from across the room, and drew unwanted attention to you. He no longer pressured you to call the number on that damn flier that sat untouched on your desk.

“You could always just, I dunno,” Chanhee is lying on your bed, scrolling on his phone while you rant about his frat brother. “Call the number? I’m pretty sure it’s his number anyway.”

“Wait seriously?” You spin around in your desk chair, turning away from the project you two are supposed to be working on together.

“Yeah, it just happened to be really convenient that the last four digits of his phone number spelled junk. What do you think of this?” He flips his phone around to show you a coat. A black trench coat, nothing too fancy about it.

“Eh. You have plenty of those, don’t you?”

“True.” He nods and lays back down.

“Should I really call him?” You lean your head back on your chair, lacing your fingers together on your lap. “What if he hates me, Chanhee?”

“Trust me, Y/N,” Chanhee exhales heavily, “that man does not hate you.”

“But how do you know that?” You ask. “If he told you that, he could be lying to you!”

“Girl,” Chanhee throws his phone down onto your mattress and sits up straight. “If a man hates you, he is not going to jack off at 3 in the goddamn morning— with his frat brothers in the other room that connects to his bathroom, mind you— to the thought of you. Trust me. He doesn’t hate you.”

“You don’t— I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes are bugging out of your head and Chanhee grimaces in a way that tells you that he was not supposed to tell you that.

“Oops…”

“What do you mean he— Chanhee, what are you talking about?” Chanhee is already rising from your bed, grabbing his laptop, and sliding his shoes on.

“I think it’s time for me to get out of here,” he tells you with a tight smile on his face. He comes toward you though, holding the flier in his hand. “But, I really think you should call this number. Could really help you both, I think.”

When the door shuts behind your classmate, you sit in silence for a moment. A few moments, really, just holding the first flier that Juyeon ever gave you in your hand. There’s a little bit of water damage from the flooding, but the number in the middle of the page is still there. It’s almost ironic that Juyeon’s phone number is the only part of the advertisement that isn’t ruined, like something was telling you that you needed to call Juyeon.

Your phone rings once, then twice, and you hear the line click on the other side.

“Thank you for calling College Hunks, what junk can we haul for you today?”

It takes Juyeon a little over an hour to get to your apartment. By that point, you’d gathered anything that you didn’t want into trash bags and set them in your living room. Each bag is organized to an extent. Things to be recycled, to be donated, or just thrown away. Most of the items that needed to be thrown away were damaged when your apartment building flooded, each damaged beyond repair. Almost like fate, isn’t it?

There’s a knock on your door. One, two, three. Your hands are shaking a bit when you grab the door handle. One, two, th—

You practically rip the door open before Juyeon can finish knocking. He’s standing there, wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open. The outfit he’s wearing is the same as the day he first showed up at your door. White tank top, cargo pants, and some worn-out sneakers. For once, his hair isn’t styled. He’s parted it down the middle, a little bit of gel used to keep it from falling into his face too much.

“Hi,” you breathe out. It’s like Juyeon is stuck in a trance, his hand still frozen mid-knock and his mouth opening and closing like a damn fish. “You— do you want to come in?” Juyeon blinks.

“Uh…yeah, yeah sure.” You step to the side, allowing him to walk into your apartment. It’s awkward, to say the least. When you shut your door, the click makes both of you flinch and suddenly you’ve forgotten everything that you wanted to say to him.

“Is this—” Juyeon’s voice cracks a little bit, and he turns to face you but he doesn’t look you in the eye. “Is this everything?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “yeah it is. Needed to get rid of some stuff after the building flooded, you know?” You laugh, but he doesn’t and you’re quick to shut your mouth. Say something, dammit. Anything. Your mind is screaming, whether at you or Juyeon you aren’t entirely sure. “Juyeon, can we ta—”

“I should get started then,” he cuts you off and you grimace. “Got a couple of appointments today, so I can’t linger for long.”

“Right…” your voice trails off. “Yeah, I’ll get out of your way then.”

Plan A is a bust, then.

Juyeon moves quickly. You don’t know if it’s work ethic or if he wants to get away from you as fast as possible, but it stings. You don’t say anything to each other the whole time, not that you staying in your bedroom the whole time did anything to help the situation. You can hear him moving around, carrying bag after bag down to his car, but not once does he come to talk to you. Not even about the junk he’s carrying out.

Your forehead is against your desk, your eyes shut tightly as you try to block out the noise, knowing that he’ll be carrying out the last bag soon. The sound of your feet tapping on the ground is almost enough to drown out Juyeon, but not quite enough to drown out the knocking at your bedroom door.

Your head snaps up, and you spin around to face Juyeon.

“Hi,” he gives you a tight smile. “I just— I brought out the last bag so I guess— I guess I should go, huh?”

Don’t, you want to tell him, don’t leave yet.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You stand up and clear your throat. “Here, what’s your Venmo? I can send you some money.”

Juyeon shakes his head. “I already told you that you don’t have to pay me.”

“Yeah, you did,” you agree. “But I’d feel bad if I let you leave empty-handed.”

“I’m not leaving emptyhanded, though!” He argues. “I have your junk! Which, surprisingly, all fit into the trunk of my car.”

“Go you,” you cheer halfheartedly. “That’s not gonna stop me from paying you.”

“Pretty girl,” he warns. “I’m not gonna let you pay me.”

“Then I’ll get Chanhee to tell me your Venmo.” You grin and Juyeon rolls his eyes.

“You’re not gonna let this go, will you?”

“Nope,” you let the sound of the p pop when you say it and Juyeon lets out a dry laugh.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?”

“That’s the plan.” you look at him, and this time he’s looking right back at you. The awkward air has cleared, and it almost feels normal. Like it was prior to the kiss. God, please let Plan B work. “Are you gonna tell me what your account is, or am I gonna have to find some other way to pay you?”

There’s a spark of something in Juyeon’s eyes, and his eyebrows knit together. Please get it, please get it, please get it. C’mon Juyeon, don’t be dense.

“Some other way?” He echoes, and you mentally cheer when he steps toward you.

“Mhm!” You bob your head. “Like you said, there are other ways to pay you, aren’t there?”

He’s right in front of you now, and you swear you see him start to reach for you before he’s forcing his hands back down to his sides.

“You’re not—” he inhales and squeezes his eyes shut. “Please tell me I’m not misinterpreting this.”

“Depends on what you think I’m saying.” You smirk, and Juyeon starts to lean down, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips.

“What I think you’re offering,” he speaks slowly and you can feel his breath on your lips. “Is not exactly…appropriate, pretty girl.”

“And I think you’re right.” You’re practically whispering, every movement from your mouth causes your lips to brush against his and you’re so close to caving and just yanking him down to crush his lips against yours.

Thankfully, Juyeon moves fast and he’s grabbing you by the waist to yank you to him and your hands are in his hair by the time his lips are on your.

This kiss is heavier than the first. It’s messier and sloppier and his tongue is in your mouth, pushing at yours and licking at every nook and cranny that he can reach. You walk him backward to your bed. You don’t separate your mouths, not when you push him down onto your mattress, not when you sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little crescents indented into his skin.

Juyeon groans at the stinging feeling, sliding his hands under your shirt and gently pushing it up. He does it slowly, giving you time to stop him, but you get impatient and shove him back until he’s lying down. His hands are still on your waist, and he’s watching with a hazy gaze as you lift your shirt over your head and throw it somewhere across the room.

“Shit, pretty girl,” he breathes out and tries to slide his hands up to your chest. You’re smirking when you slap his hands away.

“No touching yet,” you tell him and he groans in response.

“You can’t just do this and not let me touch you!” He whines. “It’s not fair!”

“You should’ve thought about that before you ignored me for a week,” you retort and he falls silent. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just get you back with this.” Your hands reach behind your back and you swiftly unclip your bra and throw that in the direction you’d thrown your shirt in. Juyeon’s hands lurch up to touch you again but you’re faster, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down to his sides with a click of your tongue.

“Y/N please,” Juyeon begs, his breath hitching in his throat when you leave him completely, and he can only watch as you unbutton your jeans and tug the rest of your clothing off. He’s practically drooling as he sits up, watching you undress for him. He watches you walk to your dresser, digging through your drawers for a moment before returning with a long piece of silk. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking joking.”

You laugh at his reaction and toss the silk onto the mattress behind him.

“Why would I be joking, Juyeon?” You stand between his legs, and you grin when he doesn’t even try to touch you this time. You can see the tent in his cargo pants and let your hands trace up and down his thighs. “Take off your shirt for me?”

There’s a dangerous look in your eye, one that Juyeon can’t find himself wanting to disobey and he’s lifting his shirt over his head without a second thought. Your eyes widen ever so slightly and Juyeon can’t help but smirk. He knows he’s attractive, knows that his body catches people’s attention and he’s proud of that.

With you, however, there’s something different about how you look at him. Something primal, like a predator looking at her prey and he shifts in his spot.

“Pants too.” He nods and rises to his feet again, tensing when you raise your hands. “What are you stopping for? Get moving, don’t you have other appointments to get to?” Your hands are tracing the lines of his abs, feeling the way he flinches at your touch. You continue to trace his body as he bends down to lower his pants and boxers to the ground. Your hands raise to the backs of his shoulders, to the back of his neck, and let them slip down to his pecs when he stands straight again.

You almost let yourself falter when you see his cock for the first time. It’s big, bigger than any you’ve taken in the past, and you can’t help but imagine what he’d looked like when he was thinking of you. Did he look as messy as he does now, eyes practically crazed, his breathing labored as he fisted himself? Did he watch himself in the mirror, imagining it was your hand instead of his own?

“So pretty, baby.” You breathe out, letting your hand drop down to wrap around his cock. He sucks in a breath, letting it out when he whines at the feeling of you running your hand up and down, squeezing at the base, and rubbing your thumb along the tip. “So pretty.”

You push him back again, releasing him from your grasp and following him as he slides up your bed. You take the silk in your hand, gesturing for him to put his hands above his head, tying the silk tightly around his wrists so he can’t get loose. Juyeon lets out another broken whine when you straddle him, running your fingers over your core and gathering the wetness on your fingers. You allow yourself to moan quietly, gauging Juyeon’s reaction to you touching yourself. He’s staring with his mouth hanging open, his cock twitching against his abdomen as he watches you sink two fingers into your core. He whines when your body shudders against him, when you curl your fingers up into you.

“Is this what you think about, Juyeon?” You try your best to keep your voice steady when you speak. “Do you think about this when you touch yourself? When you lock yourself in the bathroom, jacking off to the thought of me like some little virgin?” He doesn’t respond, too lost in the sight of you riding your own hand.

He doesn’t see you reach your free hand up, gasping when he feels you squeeze your fingers around his throat. Not too tightly, but enough to get his attention back on you.

“I asked you a question, baby.” You pull your fingers out of your dripping pussy, gazing at the arousal covering your hand and humming in thought. “I guess I should give a reason to not answer, shouldn’t I?”

“Please,” Juyeon whispers out, and you smile when you raise your fingers to his mouth.

“Go on then,” you tell him, “suck.”

His head lurches forward, taking your fingers into his mouth and moaning at the taste of you. He runs his tongue along your fingers, and you inhale sharply, your eyelids drooping when he tries to open his eyes, trying to watch and gauge your reaction.

“Cleanin’ me up good, hm?” You pull your fingers from his mouth and Juyeon takes this time to catch his breath, to gather himself. You don’t give him long though, no more than a few moments before you’re grabbing his cock in your dainty hand and lining it up with your pussy.

“Fuck,” Juyeon throws his head back, his hands curling into fists, and groaning as you sink down on him. Your walls are squeezing so tightly around him, and he knows it has to be a stretch for you but you act as if it was nothing for you, as if he didn’t hit that sweet spot inside of you just by you sinking down on him. You let your eyes drift shut, fighting back the urge to start riding him until he has nothing left to give you. You can feel him twitching inside of you, knowing that he’s close just from your warm walls squeezing around him. “Fuck, pretty girl, please.”

“Please what, baby?” You coo, the hand on his throat squeezing gently. He whines and you grin. “Use those words, pretty boy. You can do it.”

“Let me fuck you,” he gasps out and you let out a yelp when he thrusts his hips up and sends you falling over his body.

Your breasts are in his face now, and he doesn’t give you the chance to do anything before he’s bringing his arms down and trapping you against him as best he can. He thrusts his hips up, driving his cock into you at a pace that you couldn’t keep up with if you tried. He reaches his head up, his teeth latching onto one of your nipples and practically forcing you to follow him as he brings his head back down. Juyeon sucks at your breast, pinning your chest against his face with his arms that he’s brought to rest between your shoulder blades. Every one of his thrusts sends you up his body, but he does his damn best to keep you in place, sucking and licking and biting at both of your tits, groaning every time your cunt clenches around him.

You feel like you can’t breathe, the air being punched out of you in broken moans and pitched whines. Juyeon is in about the same state as you, the noises he’s letting out are louder than yours, more frequent, and it brings a fresh wave of arousal washing over you.

“Are you close, pretty boy?” You gasp out. “Gonna— gonna cum for me?”

“Fuck, yes,” He throws his head back, his hips stuttering against yours. You bring one of your hands down to your clit, rubbing furious circles into it, letting your walls flutter around him and drawing both of you closer to your orgasms.

When you cum, it has you seeing stars. Your orgasm has you crying out his name, has you clenching around him so tightly that he’s finishing not long after you. You sink your body back, rolling your hips gently over his and placing a firm kiss on his lips. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, swallowing the sounds he makes as he pumps white hot cum into your core. It’s less of a kiss this time, though, and more teeth gnashing together and biting at each other’s lips.

His hips slow down after a minute or two, and you let your body relax against his, reaching up to untie the silk around his wrists.

“Fucking finally,” he groans and lets his hands roam your sweaty body. “Thought I was gonna die if you kept me tied up any longer.” You laugh, letting your head drop to his chest.

“That’s what you get for making me wait.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at you. “And you called me a try-hard.”

“Because you are, Juyeon.” You roll off of him, staring at your ceiling while you lay next to him on your mattress.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl,” he rolls his head to look at you with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Your eyebrows knit together. He just keeps smiling. “What, stripper boy.”

“You know what all this means, right?” You shrug.

“That I have to go to all your parties now or you’re gonna hunt me down?” He laughs and you smile a bit.

“That, and I get to call you my girlfriend.”

“I never agreed to that.” You deny, turning on your side and facing him fully.

“Sure you did! It was at the very bottom of the flier I gave you.” He tells you.

“No, it wasn’t.” You frown.

“Yeah, it was!” He sits up, reaching for the second flier he gave you that had been placed on your bedside table. “See? Right there at the bottom in tiny font that I knew you wouldn’t pay attention to!” You squint at the words he’s pointing at and let out a scoff.

“Seriously, stripper boy? If your name is Y/N L/N and you redeem this offer, you are legally obligated to become Lee Juyeon’s boyfriend, whether you like it or not. Xoxo.” You push the paper back into his hands. "When did you even put this on there? We hardly knew each other when you gave me this flier."

“I told you!” He beams and lays back down. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

"Cute, but that doesn't answer my question, stripper boy." He digs his fingers into your side, pulling you closer to him, and grins.

"Does it matter?"

"I mean...I guess not?"

"Exactly."

“Does this mean that when we break up, I get half of all your assets?” He glares at you playfully.

“Fuck, no.”

“Damn…” you sigh and lay down with your head on his chest. “I guess I’ll have to put up with you for life then, huh?”

“Mhm.” He cards his hands through your hair, gently combing through the knots. “You excited to spend the next 75 years with me, girlfriend?”

“Not at all, boyfriend.”

“Yes, you are.”

“…Try-hard.”

2K notes · View notes

cursedcola · 2 years ago

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Prompt: How protective are they of their S/O?

Characters: Dorm Leaders (for now).

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland.

A/N: I did one of these for my fire emblem blog…and probably will do for a few other fandoms on this one. I really had to get that Malleus brainrot out of my head omg this was just what i needed.

Riddle Rosehearts

6/10

Very rarely does someone describe Riddle as ‘calm’. The words are not synonymous and do not belong in the same sentence. Then again, not many ever imagined that he would take on a partner either.

More so - that someone would be willing to be his partner. With all the mandatory gatherings, expectations, unprompted lecturing, overbearing perfectionism - yes. Riddle is a ball of anxiety that touches everyone and every thing. Being his s/o is welcoming that for a daily basis (perhaps life)

He is shockingly anything but these things when he is truly in love. Riddle trusts his partner to handle themselves, and believes a hardened shell is good for navigating the world. He will not baby his partner, because he does not want to be smothered in turn.

You will walk along side him. Head held high with the figment of a crown balanced atop it. A Ruler, not a subject - and he will smile on you with pride.

However, this does not make him heartless. He is not protective of you in a physical or social sense…but boy does he get jealous. In the worst ways as well. Riddle is too prideful to get defensive in public so for most acute cases it manifests underneath his skin. He lets the irritation of other students’ flirting fester until he becomes passive aggressive. Heartslabyul students experience war flashbacks to before his ‘change of heart,’ as he goes sour for days, weeks…possibly even a month if his spouse does not reassure him. He cannot handle being ignored or anyone openly making advances on you with him near. It’s disrespectful both towards you and him (do they NOT see him? He is perfectly visible and WILL collar someone).

On one final note. He also has a low tolerance for verbal slander or vulgar talking. Sexual. If you haven’t picked up on it already. If he so much as hears a slither of a suggestive comment…he will kill someone. It’s one thing to hear someone call your partner beautiful. Riddle knows you are. People would be blind not to notice…but that kind of talk? The thought that someone would envision his partner in such a way and dare to speak of it? The disrespect on your name? They’re dead. Expelled. Gone. Kicked out of the dorm if they’re one of his even though no Heartslabyul member would dare speak of you that way.

"Excuse me? Just what is it that you think you are doing? Such lechery is cause for lifetime punishment! Have you no shame?! I would report this to the headmaster but I am often told to be more selfish. Perhaps now is a good time to start. What should be your punishment, hm?"

Leona KingScholar

8/10

Leona is not going to admit it. He really won’t. He’ll push and tell you to leave him be nearly every day…but the moment you start to walk he’s right on your heels.

At some point your bedroom at Ramshackle became his from the frequency of him sleeping over. He took over your dresser, booted Grimm to the armchair, and even brought over his bedsheets/pillows.

Pah. “They’re better quality than these rags,” my ass. He just wants his scent on you and what better way to make it happen then to sleep in his sheets.

Is it alright for the head of another dorm to never be around? Unlikely. However, no one has complained about their bossy senior being missing so all is well.

Like Riddle, Leona recognizes your strength. You handle more stress on the daily than he is willing to put up with. However, no one f*cks with you when he is present. Not unless they want to be pummeled. It takes a mighty ego for someone to think that they can get away with insulting Leona’s s/o right in front of him. Let alone threaten you.

Even jokingly. The only people allowed to do that are those he trusts. He knows that a slap on the wrist from Ruggie or your heartslabyul pups won’t do damage - but someone else? Leona has a newfound hatred for people like Floyd since they drag you into trouble. One misplaced step in your direction and Leona’s snaking his tail around your waist and partially shielding you.

Low-key he has anxiety about you going missing. If you do not show up for lunch in the garden (which is routine) then he gets irritable, and if you are going out late at night then he either tries to convince you to stay home or tags along begrudgingly. Even on your walks with Malleus. No, especially on your walks with Malleus.

Which leads us to the final protective criteria. Jealousy. Have you seen the movie Lilo and Stitch? Do you know the scene where Lilo is showing stitch the drawing of his “good vs.bad” and his badness levels were super high? Leona. Leona with his jealousy.

He will act cocky all he wants with the whole “everyone knows you’re with me shtick,” but he is one possessive mf. If he so much as sees one wandering eye? Doom. Not “i will pummel you,” doom but “i am going to ruin your reputation” doom because Leona calls it out instantly. No perverts on his watch and ESPECIALLY no flirts. The only person who gets to make Leona’s s/o blush is him. No cap.

"Oi! Where do you think you're looking? Yeah, you. The dazer. I'll give you something to gawk at - huh? Fine, but if they so much as step near then I am not backing down,"

Azul Ashengrotto

6/10

Two words. Floyd. Jade. Enough said.

The relationship between Azul and the twins is hella overused, but for good reason. These two are literally his right and left hand.

Azul is a worry wart. This number would break the scale if the tweel brothers did not exist. You can’t blame him for his anxieties either. You are the ONE thing that Azul cannot control. If he could, Azul would draft the perfect contract where you would live in a safe bubble with just him. Except that’s wrong, and you would not be happy.

He doesn’t want to control you. He wants you to be happy but he simply cannot help the anxiety. Out of all the dorm leaders, he has the most enemies. He also has experience with abandonment, bullying, and overall has low self confidence. All this feeds into his protectiveness because you are the one constant in his life that he wants to keep safe.

Introducing the twins. The buffer. His in-between on being an overbearing partner and normalcy. He doesn’t even have to ask them for help, because Jade and Floyd love you too. They keep an eye out when Azul can’t, and it brings comfort. Sadly you’re wrapped up in more scuffles than Azul finds comfortable…and he can’t stop you. He tried. You’re just too nosy…but wherever you go you are supported. He freaks the heck out if you ever come to him bruised, or if the grapevine carries bad news, but he knows that if the twins aren’t spooked then you’re all good.

He worries about you leaving him willingly. Either you wake up and decide that he isn’t your match, that you won’t want to join him after graduation, or you might even decide to leave Twisted Wonderland all together. Azul is happy that Crowley is a lazy liar because it means that you have no way to leave. It’s selfish…but he can’t help it. You have to understand that for Azul? There is no one else. Only you. He is not the type to love twice, this is a one and done deal.

Which is precisely why he is easily jealous as well. Not to the extent of causing an altercation, but he can and will assert dominance. He may feel unworthy but when did that ever stop Azul? ‘Fake it until you make it’ as they say, and Azul will make whatever soul who dared to step in his territory feel like smeared shit underneath his shoe.

"Ah! Angelfish~ I missed you dearly. I hope your wrist is feeling better from that spill in poison making - how do I know about that? Oh the walls have ears, y'know. Can I get you something to drink?"

Kamil Al’ Asim

2/10

Head empty. Brain go brrrrrrrr

Just kidding. Kalim's head is full of thoughts. Some about class, others about his siblings, friends, maybe tomorrow's lunch - and you. He thinks a lot about you. Your smile, your laugh, when he'll see you next and if you'll call him soon. His heart is too full of positive thoughts to worry.

It's really that simple. Kalim is too optimistic to be protective. The idea of you cheating on him hasn't crossed his mind once. If someone flirts with you? Well, so long as your cool with it then heck yeah. He agrees. He supports it because you deserve to be praised.

Which...actually ends up chasing people off anyways. Someone calls you gorgeous? Comments on your clothes or maybe compliments you on your performance during the last exam? You bet Kalim is right there egging them on. He is the poster boy of the golden-retriever supportive boyfriend. Spewing his speech about how you're amazing and that he is so lucky to have you. It gets embarrassing but it does the job. By the time he's done your pursuer either got annoyed and gave up...or recognized that it would be impossible to match Kalim's love. Only an idiot would break up with someone who adores the very ground they walk on, and you are no idiot.

Tell him to stop and he won't because (1) he loves seeing you flustered. It's like a reward and (2) he refuses to let his love go unknown. In other words, everyone knows that you are taken. There is not a single soul at Night Raven College that hasn't heard about Kalim's simpery for the prefect.

Another unconscious checkmark. Money is power, and Kalim's family has a lot of if. They've funded more events at NRC than Crowley has the will to remember. No one. And I mean NO ONE. Would even tinker with hurting you. It's funny how the moment you start to date Kalim, the hole in Ramshackle's living room gets fixed by the next day. Y'know, the one that's been weathered for months and letting all the heat out. The heat from the fireplace because Ramshackle never got proper thermal vents installed. All the broken locks in your dorm were changed, and there was a lovely fruit-basket sitting outside on the porch. Compliments of the NRC staff <3

Let's not forget about the uhh...extra support from Jamil. I know. I know. Jamil caring for Kalim's s/o is a given. He'd do it even if he wasn't asked. The fact is that Kalim requests for Jamil to help you. Kalm has the fortunate luxury of most things being handled on his behalf. He has no reason to worry because there are instilled factors put in place to prevent the emotion from being supported.

Yet, he is of mind to recognize that being with him has costs. He knows that you can handle your own, but what about threats you don't expect? The money grubby kiss-asses and subtle dangers like poison. He's not stupid. You're new to Twisted Wonderland and there is so much about this world that you don't know. He wants to help you personally, but knows that it would do more harm than good. So he confides in Jamil, and then never speaks of it again.

"I'm sure that they will be alright but can you keep an eye just in case? Don't let them know or they might feel scared!...really? Thank goodness! I am meeting them soon so byebye for now. Remember to keep this a secret, Jamil! Hehe~"

Vil Schoenheit

2/10

He's a narcissist

This one is a bit short, and for good reason. Vil's ego.

Vil needs to be perfect. Has to. He truly is the fairest and will be perceived as no less. The voice in his head may occasionally speak otherwise but it never takes hold over his control. You will never see it present itself. He would sooner die.

If there is a soul in Twisted Wonderland who is brave enough to move in on his s/o, then he commends them. It takes courage to willingly offer yourself up as an example to the masses.

He's imagined it. Some pour student attempting to flirt awkwardly and in the most boorish way. Be it a single rose on your desk with a letter of love declaration, or a witty one-liner they pulled out from a book? How dull. The only emotions that the figment evicts are disgust and pity. The former on your behalf for being subjected to such mediocrity, and the latter on behalf of the student. It's bad enough for them to be rejected by you, but now they must be shamed by Vil. He is a merciful man, but allow one to make the mistake of chasing what's his and others will soon follow. As is the way of this competitive world.

He does not scorn any for being attracted to you. How could he? After all, it takes a marvel to woo someone like himself. It's natural for others to notice your sparkle.

They may look, but not touch. A privilege he gives that is not to be betrayed.

Like Kalim, he has no consistent reason to worry. He is so confident in his ability to smite anyone and anything that it is the biggest deterrent to all with ill intent.

On occasion there may be instances of social media backlash, or invasions of privacy. These irk him somewhat, but he knows that they will pass. So long as you are not distressed, then he does not mind them.

"Oh dear, just ignore them. In a week or two you'll be yesterday's news and they will find some other poor soul to torture....hmm. If it bothers you so much, then I will shield you as we walk. Come. The paparazzi loves this face anyways,"

Idia Shroud

8/10

I have said it before and I will say it again. Idia's largest tie to his dorm is his attitude. *cough* His temper. He is highly competitive despite his self-deprecating nature. His ego is unmatched. He is also snarky, and if pushed can talk someone down harsher than Crewel.

He also has too much time on his hands. Schoolwork is a chore that ticks maybe a few hours out of his day. He barely leaves his room, and even more rarely leaves his dorm. For the most part your relationship relies on you coming to him. That's okay. You knew this going in and have accepted it. He is also grateful for how accommodating you've been with his situation and in reassuring him. Yes sometimes he can be an asshole and get greedy. You always put him in his place though, and somehow your relationship dynamic is balanced just right. Not perfect, but not unhealthy.

Comfortable. Secure. Idia is happy. Do you have any idea how hard that is to achieve? He is well aware. He sits around during his free time with it nagging him. Just waiting for the day you grow tired or he lets you down. Some things can't be undone. He's hurt Ortho at times despite loving him more than anything. He'll hurt you and he's scared that when it inevitably happens that you'll leave him.

Idia protects you from himself. From his want to hog your attention and let his greed for your attention take over. When you first started dating, he half-wanted to get you your own tablet to attend school with. Move you into Ignihyde and lock you away with him. Where you would only see him, spend time with him, eat your meals with him, play games with him, save your kindness for only him, and be safe. No more getting into normie messes like magic duels and fighting beasts. No more working towards finding a portal that will take you away...

Almost. He knew that would hurt you. Somehow he matured enough to know that and restrain himself. What the heck did you do to him?

This doesn't mean you're entirely free though. He's still frightened. People scare him and it's bad enough that he has to worry over Ortho. Now you?

He watches you go around campus through the security cameras, and very rarely are you spotted without his tablet floating nearby. His attendance has been better in the classes you're in, and he hates that his teachers have noticed. His reputation has improved, since he's forced to at least say a greeting to the people you hang around once in a while.

Jealousy fuels the flame. He holds back as much as he can, but Idia has never loved like this before. His social awkwardness completely takes the backseat if someone he deems a threat is nearby. If someone flirts with you he has no filter in the moment, and likely beats himself up for it later on. This happens often due to your popularity...ugh. Damn you normies and your small talk.

He's bound to witness one of the many skirmishes you get thrown into. Crowley treats you like a walking campus security...and he is not happy. Not at all. I stated above that he very rarely leaves his room. More so his dorm. Even he has limits and won't sit back just to hear yelling through his earmuffs. The first time it happens? Well, he's bolting. After? Lets just say he had some special security measures installed in his tablet....

"Are you sure you don't want to come over? I got this new game for us to play and I bet I can beat you at it....ugh. Fine. Whatever. Just text me when you're walking home - No! I'm not watching you! Just shut up and do it please!"

Malleus Draconia

10/10

…must I explain?

Do you have any idea what happened when the name 'Tsunotaro,' fell from your lips? Do you?

No. It didn't just make him laugh his little cute fufufufu~ in his head. It flipped a switch.

He fell in love. Right then and there. He might not have known it yet but it's the truth. No one had ever dared to call him something so silly or look at him with pure joy. The smug twinkle in your eye as you declared it proudly.

He was yours, and you were his. You were to the only person in all of Twisted Wonderland that could ask him to jump, and in turn he would ask "how high".

In that moment, Malleus Draconia would kill for you. He would die for you. Loving you would soon become as easy as breathing. In a way, it already was. He simply underestimated at the time how deep his affection for you would root itself in his heart. He mistook it for soft adoration, but it was merely the calm before the storm. That instant was the catalyst to a lifetime of love, and also a lifetime of sorrow.

Being a dragon has nothing to do with it. Bonds with this man run deep. Family is the most important thing, and you are his love. There is no puppy love dating. None of that shit. Only courting because you WILL be his betrothed and you WILL become his spouse. This man is in love and he will accept no other. That is simply his personality. His emotions are pure and heavy. Raw. Fragile. Honest.

He will keep you safe. He has seen you fearful. Seen your strength as you transverse new world. At first it intrigued him as he watched from the sidelines, but now he wishes to travel back and steal you away. Take you to safety and prevent all those horrible events from happening, even though they were necessary for your friends to grow. Nothing is worth you being hurt. He would sooner let the school burn than see another scar on your body or mind.

The day he came to terms with his affections (which did not take long) he swore, never again. Even prior to courting you, never. Your friendship was irreplaceable. The only thing allowed to take you from him would be your own mortality....and even that would soon become a stretch, he's working on it.

View Malleus like a warm blanket. Comforting, not suffocating. A calming presence that wraps around you and fills your body with warmth on the coldest days. You would never dream to leave him. He ensures it. He is not a perfect man, but he is one that will love you like no other on the planet. Many vow that their love is eternal on their wedding day. This is not always upheld.

Malleus is a man of his word. You will see it deep in his emerald eyes the moment he declares his love. Nothing will ever bring you harm. No one will ever offer what he can provide. Not a being in existence will be able to match the affection this man holds. His love truly is eternal.

"You are my deepest treasure. Do you realize what this means?...Haha. No, I will not force you to join me in gargoyle studies. Not unless you wish it...It means that I am yours, and in turn you are now mine. No one will dare harm you unless they wish to become my enemy,"

Bonus: PLATONIC! Bestie Grimm

10x10^10

Little man, big heart.

Heart says to protect the henchman

So protect the henchman he shall do

No googoo eyes are allowed. He will attack ferociously

He will challenge all threats, and then drag you to run away if someone actually tries to fight him

Little man leaves you his spare tuna if you look sad. Be grateful!

He just wants you to like it here, okay? Otherwise you'll drop out and he'll lose his enrollment! Don't think too much on it

Will defend your honor to the very end. Only the great Grimm can make fun of his henchman! All others will feel the power of his flames

....please patch him up if he returns home injured. Deuce tried but the bandages are never tied right

"What happened? Well wouldn't you like to know! Hmph. Nothing more than a few lower lackeys trying to tussle with the Great Grimm...Did I win? Of course I won! What kind of talk is that....sheesh. Last time I defend your name. Hmph. Nothing! I said nothing!"

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natalievoncatte · 9 months ago

Text

Lena squared herself up after she stepped from the elevator.

This has taken considerable work. She’d had to arrange for her absence from boarding school to go unnoticed, or at least, unremarked upon. If Lillian got wind of her running away, she’d have been skinned alive. Perhaps literally. Since her adoptive father’s death, she’d actually looked forward to school, and to being away from Lillian’s abuse. Lex was now the only thing keeping her from Lena, and Lex was preoccupied with his project.

Her brother had been away for school for some time, but they had summers off together at least. When Lex took over the company when he turned 21, he grew distant and aloof, spending more time with his friend Clark or at work than with family.

With his absence came Lillian.

Still, she had managed to build a support network. Frank, her bodyguard-slash-driver was Lex’s man, but he was useful. Lena had spent months buttering him up to participate in her plan: she needed wheels.

In the meantime she’d acquired blackmail material. The head master at the school gave her a broad latitude after she implied that she might expose certain proclivities of his. That gave her the time away she needed. She’d carefully negotiated a higher allowance from Lex in exchange for accelerating her studies in anticipation of beginning her undergraduate studies at sixteen, which was a triviality for her anyway.

Lena walked down the hall, heart pounding against the backpack clutched to her chest. Each step felt heavy, alive with portent.

She could turn back now. She could turn her back now.

What if she was wrong? Paranoid, addled, as crazy as her mother, just like Lillian said? What if she was about to not only blow up her whole life, but slander her brother. If this went sideways, she didn’t know what exactly would happened to her, but Lillian had once, while tipsy on whisky from Lionel’s stash, told Lena that if not for Lex, she’d have Lena garroted with piano wire and buried on the estate, and like any bag of trash, no one would notice she’d been disposed of.

When she told Lex, her hands shook like leaves. He looked at her for a long cold moment and she worried that he’d slap her or scream or throw her out of the house, but he simply said, “I’ll talk to her about it.”

He did. She never made another threat.

He also brought her a wooden box, ornate and polished. Lex sat next to Lena and opened the box, showing her the contents, lying on red velvet. A five shot snub nose revolver and two speedloaders.

“I’ll teach you how to use this,” Lex said, grimly. “I know you’re smart enough to know if you need to. If anyone tries to harm you, kill them. I’ll clean it up.”

Lena had been terrified of it for months, even as she enjoyed the shooting lessons from Lex, given in a remote part of the estate near a burbling creek, the shots cracking the morning peace and shaking dew from leaves.

She had the gun in her backpack, and her hands were shaking.

The other contents of her bag were a weapon far more devastating. She was about to fire it and she’d have to accept the consequences.

Finally, she stood outside the door. Apartment 18B. The name on the lease was Lois Lane, but according to Lena’s reconnaissance, Clark Kent had been living with her virtually full time for the last six months, not long after something changed in his relationship with Lena’s brother.

Lena’s hand hung before the door for a good minute before she knocked, weekly. She hadn’t considered what might happen if they were simply not home. Her legs felt watery and her eyes burned. She knocked again. She was committed now.

The door swung open and Lois Lane stood before her. She was beautiful in an understated way, obscured by limp hair in a chaotic bun, rumpled clothes, and the stink of coffee on her breath.

“Who- what? Kid, what do you want?”

“I need to see Clark Kent. Is he here?”

“Who’s asking?”

“Lena Luthor.”

There was a gust of wind behind her, and Kent stepped into view.

“Lena?” said Clark. “Lex’s little sister? What are you doing here?”

Lena’s throat went tight. She swallowed hard, and as she anticipated, his demeanor changed. He softened. He craned forward slightly, studying her intently, and his brows shot up when looked at her bag.

He was checking her vital signs and he’d spotted the gun. In the bag.

“He knows you’re Superman,” Lena choked out, “and he’s going to kill you.”

Lois glanced at Clark with a stunned, stunned wide expression. Then, she grabbed Lena and yanked her inside, slamming the door. Lena squeaked.

“How do you know that? Lex knows? Did he tell you? What do you mean he wants to kill Clark?”

“Hey,” Clark said, crouching beside Lena to bring himself to her level, resting a comforting hand on her slight shoulder. “Take a breath, Lena. You’re safe here.”

In Lena’s plan, she was going to begin explaining, starting with how she deduced his identity and lay out what she discovered in his files. That was her plan, but no plan survived first contact with the enemy.

Lena began to sob.

Superman knelt beside her and removed his glasses, and enveloped Lena Luthor in a warm, protective hug. She sobbed harder, burying her face in his shoulder.

“Jesus Christ,” Lois whispered.

She drew the gun out of the bag and checked it with professional, practiced familiarity, dumping the shells into her hand.

“I think she’s telling the truth.”

Clark nodded.

Over the next hour, Lena was swept to Lois’s big couch and sat in the middle while the pair sat on either side of her. When she was hungry, Clark went out to get her favorite guilty pleasure meal, a big greasy burger and fries, and a milkshake too. Between bites, she explained everything, telling them about her brother’s insane plan to turn the sun red.

They believed it all. Lena had receipts.

Eventually, Lena was exhausted, everything had been said, and she sat with dull shock on the couch and stared at the black mirror of a blank television set, marveling at how small and helpless she looked, like a drowned rat.

“Why don’t you lay down for a while?” Lois said, gently. “Here, I’ll put something on the TV for you.”

Lena didn’t make it ten minutes in before she was asleep, curled tightly on one end of the couch with a pillow under her head.

She woke sometime later. It was dark now and she heard voices on the far side of the apartment.

“I called Bruce. He said he’s in, and he’s bringing reinforcements. I’m going to try to get a Green Lantern on board. We have to move fast. Nevermind me, if Lex does this, millions of innocent people will die. We’ll have to move fast.”

“What about the girl?” said Lois. “She can’t go home now. We have to get her somewhere safe.”

“I have to get you both somewhere safe. I should probably come up with a reason to get the building evacuated. One Lex realizes he’s been caught out, he’ll come after both of you.”

“You’re right.”

“I want you to go out,” said Clark. “Make it look like you’re heading out to a convenience store. Bruce is sending Alfred to pick you up, he should be here in an hour. I have somewhere else in mind for Lena.”

“Where?”

“It’s better if I don’t tell you, just in case.”

When he emerged from the back bedroom, Clark Kent was resplendent, clothed in the persona of Superman.

“Lena?” he said, gently. “We have to go. I’ll take you somewhere safe, where your brother won’t find you.”

Lois joined him. “You’re going to put on some of my clothes, and I’m going to check your hair. You can’t take anything with you. Lex Luthor might have been tracking you the entire time.”

Lena’s stomach dropped. What if she was right? That might be a move Lex would play, tracking Lena so that he could use her against his enemy. Lex had become cold, single minded. Lena was wondering how long it would be until she was disposable.

“Okay,” said Lena.

“I’m going to have to fly you.”

Lena did as she was told. She put on an outfit that belonged to Lois, a hilariously oversized Gotham U sweatshirt and leggings. When it was time, Superman bundled her up in his cape.

“I’m scared of heights.”

“I would never drop you,” he said.

Lena screamed when he took off. She was glad for the cape, glad she couldn’t see the ground. She curled up around him and pressed her eyes tightly closed, wondering exactly how fast they were going.

The landing came surprisingly fast. He’d alighted on the grassy lawn of a lovely beach house. Lena smelled something baking and heard voices inside. Clark knocked on the door.

A girl, a little older than Lena, opened the door. Golden curls spilled over her muscular shoulders, and she wore an oversized pair of glasses that did nothing to dull the endless depths of her blue eyes. There was something profoundly sad behind the curiosity in those eyes. She looked at Lena with mild confusion.

Lena stared back. There was a wild stirring in her stomach, and she shifted uneasily on her feet.

Then, the girl addressed Clark in a rapid, clipped, and utterly strange sounding language.

It hit Lena like a shockwave.

They were speaking Kryptonian.

“Lena,” said Superman, turning to her. “This is Kara Zor-El, my cousin. The last daughter of Krypton.”

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #runaway Lena #my headcanon is that Kara is older #teen supercorp romance #Lillian Luthor is a rancid bitch #teen Lena was adorkable #Kara has jock tendencies but is only jock adjacent #You can have a little butch Kara as a treat

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skzdarlings · 11 months ago

Note

omg that sounds so fun!!!! (Sorry if this was quick I have your post notifs on) imma jump on this early!!! can we get “do you really think you’re in a position to give orders?” W changbin? 😩😩😩

summary: you are in love with the son of your family's greatest enemy. he sneaks into your room one night after a party.

pairing: seo changbin/reader content info: petite!reader. mentions of past body insecurities. romeo-and-juliet style love affair. sneaking around. gun play that is somehow more romantic than kinky but still kinda kinky. explicit sexual content. word count: 2900 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

You catch his eye across the room.

There are a hundred people between you, bustling in their designer gowns and glittering in their jewels. The hotel ballroom is an incandescent chamber of silver light. The sun has long since set but the party plays on in its excessive splendour, never tiring of itself.

You are tired of it. The glamour of this lifestyle has turned more tedious than not. At the centre of all this majesty is money, and everyone in this room prioritizes their wealth and capital above everything else. They have fought and slandered and killed each other and they will do it all again, but they throw their galas nonetheless. Places to celebrate themselves and their so-called achievements, to flaunt their successes in self-congratulation. Everyone laughs and dances, spinning around the ballroom, sipping their champagne.

You smile and demur, pretending you are having a good time. You sit with your family and only interact with their trusted allies or those who would be.

He is vehemently not included in that.

Seo Changbin.

He is across the room with his family, your family’s greatest enemy. Your father and his father are titans of business and the family rivalry spans generations. It started with your great-grandparents and you are destined to uphold it. You will marry an appropriate man of standing, someone who will expand the empire, someone whose allyship is worthwhile in both the monetary and social strata. You will have children and raise them to take your place, to inherit your name and all the blood and money that comes with it.

Those same expectations are on your enemy. You hold gazes across the sparkling sea of people. You look away first.

You are coerced onto the dance floor by one of your father’s chosen men. You join that sparkling sea. It is always bizarre to brush elbows with these people, knowing very well they would not hesitate to put a bullet in your head under any other circumstance. You catch the sight of a few discreet weapons as you are twirled around the dance floor. Ostensibly, weapons are not allowed inside the gala as fighting is prohibited, but these people always take their precautions.

Your dance partner spins you. You twirl as per the dance, then stumble to a halt because Changbin is standing there. He is dancing with someone too, has them spun out the opposite way. You stand in the middle of the ballroom looking at each other, faces equally stoic.

He is dressed in all black, austere and intimidating. His black hair falls in a sweep across his forehead, just this side of too-long so it obscures his eyes if he tilts his head a certain way. He is always so meticulously hidden in public, nothing but a walking shadow. He is a dark reflection of his family and their grim reputation.

But his jovial laughter is in your mind, his witty quips, his jokester nature. He is devastatingly charming and endlessly humorous.

You would never know just looking at him. Changbin is not the tallest man in the room but he more than compensates with his bulk and power. Pretty much anyone would be big next to you, but you know what your hand looks like when laid against his, how all encompassing the breadth of his big arms feel when they wrap around you.

He does not touch you. He looks. He smirks, like he knows your heart is racing. Then he spins away. Your partner pulls you back.

The dance continues.

You say you are sick and leave the party early. You are escorted back to the house with your usual security flank, sitting in the backseat of your limo with a guard on either side of you. They wear bulletproof gear under their uniform, matching pale blue in the family’s colours, and wearing bulky glasses to shield their eyes. They are all armed to teeth, wearing their holsters and belts. They dwarf you almost comically. They do not speak to you.

When you reach the house, you go straight to your bedrooms. You have three rooms to yourself, each lonely space spilling into the next. You dress in your closet, leaving the gown pooled in a silk mess on the floor. You discard your jewelry and amble to your main room in a satin nightdress and robe.

You almost miss it, the sound so faint, but you swear a gentle knocking comes from your balcony doors. They are still sealed shut. Security did not notice anything remiss upon arrival, but there is a blind spot in the security camera on your balcony. There are no cameras inside your room for privacy purposes. But no one would know that unless you told them.

And you have only told one person.

You approach the balcony doors, wary. You peer into the night, eyes roving the grand expanse of the brightly lit garden and swimming pool. Wind rustles through the leaves of the trees and a security guard is finishing his round.

You step onto your balcony slowly. The security guard can only see you when you lean over. He waves at you before leaving the yard, continuing the rest of his patrol elsewhere. You watch him go.

The world is quiet as it ever is. You can hear the buzz of the pool lights and the tinkling of your wind chimes, little else. You lean against your balcony railing and look over the yard. You weigh the luxury of the estate against its cost. Not for the first time, you ruminate on how it is absolutely not worth it.

You sigh and turn. Then you freeze at what, who, you find.

You mistake him for a security guard for half a second, which nearly gives you a heart attack because they are never on your balcony. But he is just wearing one of their uniforms. You are not sure when he stole it, tonight or previously.

Seo Changbin stands there in the blue uniform shirt and gun holster, winking at you behind bulky glasses. He is pressed against the wall in the solitary blind spot, nodding his head to your balcony door. If you open it a little wider, he can sneak in undetected.

Like he has done a dozen times before.

You feign nonchalance for the camera, humming to yourself as you step into your bedroom. You push your door open all the way, positioning yourself in distracting view of the lens while he sneaks inside. Then you follow and slam the door shut. You both take a curtain and draw them together, meeting in the middle.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say. It is not what you want to say. You want to say, thank god you are here. I missed you so much. But that is an utterly foolish proclamation. You know better. You have always known better.

But the son of your family’s greatest enemy is standing in your bedroom anyway. He looks at you, at where you clutch your robe, at where you wet your lips. He removes the glasses and tosses them aside, as if to study you more closely.

“I shouldn’t,” he says. You cannot tell if it is an agreement or a question.

“No, you shouldn’t,” you say. You take a step back, because every second in his proximity only compels you closer. It is surer than a planet caught in a gravitational pull, threatened to be shattered by the sheer cosmic power of the star holding it in orbit.

He steps with you. When you take another step, he follows. Back and back and back. He feels big in this space. Even though your room is massive, his presence shadows your little world. When your back hits the wall and he looms in front of you, he is all you can see. Nothing else exists beyond him.

“Changbin, we shouldn’t be doing this,” you say, though you know it is useless to protest your liaison with any logic, because this is a matter of the heart and not mind. That rebellious heart of yours beats faster. “If anyone found you here… we’d both be in so much trouble.”

“I won’t let them hurt you,” he says. He speaks with such easy confidence, like it is a matter of fact and not hope. He says it so certainly that you almost believe him.

“You can’t promise that,” you say.

“Yah, shame on you,” he teases. “You know I always keep my word.”

It is true. Though Changbin has a formidable reputation, it has little basis in actuality. He is a man of strong moral principle. He does not like the fighting and brawling and warring. He does not hurt innocent people, nor does he put civilians at risk for the sake of a stupid business.

And he has treated you with more loving respect than anyone else in your life.

Of course you surrender to him, again and again, sighing now as you lean against the wall and release your robe. It falls open and reveals your little nightdress. His gaze dives down your body, igniting sparks inside you. You were once insecure about your appearance, taking to heart your mother’s admonishments, that you were scrawny and gaunt, nothing but a burden as they struggled to find a match for you.

It is no struggle for Changbin. He curses even though he has seen you a dozen times. He holds your hips, then runs his strong hands up your body so you shiver all over. He cups the back of your head and draws you close, like he intends to kiss you. You are ready for it, eyelids heavy and lips parting.

With his other hand, he reaches for his chest holster. You blink as he slowly draws the gun, as he brings it closer to you. It feels like your whole body turns to liquid heat, heart thundering as he rests the barrel so delicately against your temple.

“See, baby,” he says, “if they find us, they’ll blame me. What was a little thing like you supposed to do, ah? Fight me?”

You are breathing harder, already so hot with anticipation. You gasp when he tugs you closer still, the gun still tapping your temple.

His lips are so close to yours, they almost touch.

“Poor baby,” he says. “She’s so good to her family. It’s not her fault Seo Changbin climbed in her window and fucked her in her little nightdress.” He moves the gun, making your breath catch again. The barrel touches your lips then moves down, down. It brushes a sensitive nipple, then moves lower still. The cool metal brushes your inner thigh under your nightdress and your knees starting shaking, a delicious heat twisting in your belly. “Tsk, tsk,” he says. “No panties. Maybe it’s not my fault completely.”

“We really shouldn’t do this,” you say, but it is still not what you want to say. I want you, I need you, so so badly.

He smiles and lifts the gun again, all the way up to your mouth where he taps your lips.

“Do you really think you’re in a position to give orders?” he asks.

It is so funny; Changbin is holding a gun to your lips but you feel more safe than dancing among those people at the party. You trust him so completely, so irrevocably, that you do not feel truly threatened for even a moment. There is something so liberating and joyous in allowing your body to go completely lax, in forgetting all your many grievances for the short but blissful time you have with him. Your heart is so full you could burst.

You kiss the tip of the gun, then smile.

“Well,” you say. “What are you waiting for?”

He tosses the gun onto the bed so he can hold you with both hands when he kisses you. You moan against his lips. His searching hands are careful where he touches you, squeezing and loving. He cups the small curve of your breast in his palm, rubs there until electric desire shoots to every extremity.

You shrug your robe off and he wastes no time gathering you into his arms. He holds you so securely, picking you up with no effort at all. Then you are pressed against the wall with him pressed against you.

“Yes, yes,” you say, gasping, as he kisses down your neck. He hikes you higher, catching you effortlessly, guiding your legs around him as he kisses down to your breasts. He wraps his lips around a nipple through your dress, making you clench your thighs around him, which makes him giggle like the maniacal tease he is.

“You like that,” he says, and tugs your dress down to get his mouth on you properly. He is so good with his tongue. You feel a little giddy, thinking to yourself that it is his true weapon. Fast, precise, teasing you and working you until you are tugging at his head and grinding against him.

“I need you,” you say, breathlessly, “Changbin, Changbin—”

You seldom take your time, given the danger of the situation. With the house empty and both your families occupied, you have time tonight to go a little slower, but you simply cannot wait. You are both accustomed to instant satisfaction when together. Your body feels wrong without him inside it. You need him like a breath of air.

“Please,” you say.

You do not have to beg much. He fiddles with his belt and his zip, then he repositions you. You cover your mouth to catch your squeal when he pushes inside you. He moans into your neck to stifle his own sounds.

“Baby, so good for me,” he murmurs, sounding intoxicated from the silky feel of you, wrapped around him so completely.

You know the feeling. You are incapable of forming sentences, clinging to him desperately as he fucks you steadily against the wall. He holds you with just one arm, the other palm planted flat to the wall, near your head. You clutch his big bicep while your other hand sinks in the hair at his nape. You fuck until he is close, when he carries you to the bed and lays you out.

You lean forward and take him in your mouth, sucking him down until he comes. He bites his wrist to keep his volume down.

You wipe your lips, smiling. Then you sprawl back on the bed, nightdress turned to little more than a sash around your middle. You slide it off completely. Even though he just came, he is already looking you with hungry eyes. He puts a knee on the bed, evidently ready to pounce.

You pick up the gun and point it at him, quirking a playful eyebrow. He blinks at you, surprised, then smiles as well.

“Baby,” he says. “That wasn’t the plan.”

“Do you really think you’re in a position to give orders?” you reply.

It just makes him laugh. The sound makes your heart gush with sentiment. He looks so handsome and sweet, hair pushed back, a light sheen of sweat on his neck. He is still mostly dressed, tucked back into his pants, but they are open and slung low, his shirt all untucked.

He gazes at you with deep, dark eyes, nothing but affection on his face. He plays your game and strips his shirt off, then he crawls across the bed until he is close enough for you to rest the barrel of the gun against his temple.

“Go on,” you say, nodding.

Truly, his tongue is the greater weapon. The gun does not stand a chance, falling out of your hand, forgotten, as he descends between your legs. You feather his hair through your fingers, then dig into his scalp, riding the motion of his mouth as he licks and sucks and kisses you down there. You come with a shivering sigh, your legs shaking.

He lifts his head and wiggles his eyebrows. “Good?” he asks, to which you can only nod. “Ha-ha,” he says, lightly slapping your thigh. “Of course it was. It’s me.”

You laugh, shaking your head and playfully rolling your eyes.

“You are incorrigible,” you say.

He climbs up your body and kisses you on the lips, tasting of you. It makes you whimper, delighted.

“I think you meant to say incredible,” he teases. “That’s okay, I understood you anyway.”

“I’m sure you did,” you say. Because there is a great deal of truth in that statement. You and him are on opposite sides of this ridiculous feud, but you are in exactly the same place. No one understands you better than him.

That understanding is written all over his face. He smiles tenderly, cupping your cheek in his hand. His next kiss is the definition of romance itself, sweet and long, enough to make you swoon.

“How much time do you think we have?” you ask.

“Not much,” he answers, then kisses you again. “Don’t think about it now. It’s okay, baby. I got you.”

“I know,” you say. You wrap your arms around each other and hold tight, kissing again while you can. The truth is, neither of you is in any position to dictate your fate. But he kisses you like that does not matter, with no past and no tomorrow on the horizon. You take control of this moment and consider it a happy ending for as long as you can.

#seo changbin x reader #changbin x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #changbin x you #changbin smut #seo changbin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x you #valentinesdaystories #anonymous request

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manikas-whims · 6 months ago

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Hii!! I want to request some headcanons for LADS boies ~~

How about them with a very famous reader!! How will they plan dates and attend any celebration with their partner!!

interesting request! imo, the biggest issue (in canonical sense) that they all will face due to the Reader being famous is protection. if she's always in limelight, it'll become difficult for them to act as they please in order to protect her..

now on to the request! hope you like it! ♡

LADS men dating a famous reader

XAVIER

⭐ He may be able to erase traces of his own history but he's very bad at dealing with the paparazzi. Any time he senses paparazzi spying on you two during your dates, he uses his evol to teleport you both away.

⭐ However, that doesn't always work. And when it doesn't, he walks right up to them and forces them to delete the pics taken.

⭐ He's never had any issues with your fame but what he doesn't enjoy is the attention it brings upon you, and by extension, upon him as well. Once the news of you dating some deepspace hunter breaks out, he starts getting scouted by random entertainment labels. They think his handsome face and skills will prove amazing for action movies.

⭐ Your fans will try spreading conspiracy theories about how he could be the one behind the infamous masked vigilante named Lumiere. There's also fans who seem to like him and have spread rumors about how he saved you from a hoard of wanderers, causing you to immediately fall for him.

⭐ He's very compliant when it comes to anything to do with you. If there's an event significant for the sake of your career, and if it requires his presence, then he'll quietly accompany you.

⭐ Your stylists are quite taken by him. They always insist on doing his makeup and picking out the outfits that suit his sleeper build. And Xavier complies, his only request being that they make sure his clothes are complementary to yours and that you two look like a couple. No matter what image you've crafted for the world, he'll ensure everyone knows that you two belong to each other.

ZAYNE

❄️ He's a nightmare for the paparazzi. They never manage to sneak a single good picture of the two of you when you're out on dates. They always end up looking blurry or Zayne makes sure his tall frame entirely hides your smaller one behind him.

❄️ This one time when they do spot you leaving the Akso Hospital with a tall, dark haired man, none of them manage to take any pictures. Many claim they suddenly felt the temperature around them dropped so low that it felt chilly, and that their hands went numb due to the cold.

❄️ The news about your dating life only breaks out when you and Zayne yourselves decide to make it public. However, not many seem to like Zayne. Many fans claim he's too aloof and wonder if he's even good enough for you (ofc you reassure him that he's the only one ever!)

❄️ Other fans discover some pictures of the two of you from highschool days and come to the conclusion that you two must be highschool sweethearts. And they find it admirable that you two stuck together for so long.

❄️ Due to his profession, he doesn't get much time and its difficult for him to attend your public events. This does lead to some criticism about how he's not a very supportive boyfriend. But he only finds such remarks amusing. Afterall, what the world thinks of him doesn't matter. He only cares about how you feel for him.

❄️ The rare occasions when he does show up at your events, he always keeps a hand on the small of your back, his intimidating figure allowing no room for comments or slander.

RAFAYEL

🌊 Since he himself is pretty well-known, he's quite used to the paparazzi. But that doesn't mean he likes them or tolerates them. He's straight up calling them out because he hates the possibility of his dates with you getting ruined due to so many intruding eyes. And he doesn't want people prying into his and your personal lives.

🌊 When he sees a paparazzi taking pictures, Rafayel is the type who pulls out his own smartphone and starts clicking pictures of them in retaliation.

🌊 You two openly hang-out in public and there is speculation about you two dating. It's just you never confirm it. And ofcourse, you two are questioned during your individual interviews about each other. You never give a direct response to those either. You let the people keep assuming whatever they want to.

🌊 Both yours and Rafayel's fans ship you two together. But there are many of his fangirls who've called you horrible names. One time, you even got attacked by a crazy fan, who was immediately banned by Thomas. And Rafayel personally put out a statement about how he'll not entertain any crazy or violent fans.

🌊 Whenever you're working on a new project, he sends you rare species of flowers for goodluck. He also makes sure to convey his support in the form of sending food trucks and such for the entire staff.

🌊 He doesn't enjoy public attention. You've seen how much he despises having to attend formal events related to his own artistry. Still, he doesn't like the idea of so many strangers openly approaching you, so he makes sure to attend as many of your events as his schedule allows him to. And you do the same for him.

If you sent me a LADS related request, then rest assured, i am working on all your requests slowly..♡

SEND ME REQUESTS FOR LOVE & DEEPSPACE HEADCANONS VIA ASKS.

» MASTERLIST «

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thewriterg · 3 months ago

Text

𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡

pairing(s):spencer reid x gn!reader, mention of spencer x derek

summary:your meanings of a sweet tooth increased to a ten fold when the leaves start to change and the air becomes crisp. however, you have a level of self respect that your boyfriend doesn’t

word count: 650+

warning(s): fluff, pumpkin spice slander, pet names, kissing, and language

A/N: —GIFs; @undertheniall & @chemicalh3arts— im a little rusty give me a break

Spencer eyed you warily at your foreign action. Right before he could press the skin of his lips onto yours, your head turned with a quickness. A passion. The brunette racked his mind of what he could’ve done going down the mental checklist in his head.

Took the trash out, watered the plants, closed the drawer in the kitchen you frequently bump your hip into early mornings going to brew your coffee when he leaves it open, —boxes of tea sitting against each other in tip top shape and organization—

There were established boundaries in your relationship that the two of you silently promised to never cross. However, the doctor couldn’t help but to itch to break your most solid concrete one.

You weren’t allowed to profile one another.

No matter how dire the situation seemed, or how well intended it seemed. No. Profiling

All of this amused you to no end. While you struggled to keep a decent poker face at your boyfriend’s kicked puppy expression, he battled internal conflict on what could’ve changed in two hours. You were fine getting ready this morning, you were fine at the office, you were fine leaving the office, hell you were fine even with him telling you him and Morgan was going to try a coffee shop down the road.

What changed in a mere hour!?

“You’re a liar!” You accuse strongly, it’s funny how your top doctor lover couldn’t pick out the dramatic undertone in your voice. It was only a matter of time before you were going to crack your ‘hurt’ facade.

“What!? Ab-”

“Out of all the seasonal treats… Apple pie, sweet potato pie, cookie butter, pecan everything, apple cider donuts, fritters, cinnamon swirl bread, the list could run forever!” You throw the back of your hand over your forehead in mock distress. It’s comical the way Spencer deflates at the realization.

“You dare try to lay your lips on mine with that horrid, wretched, foul tas-” Before you can finish your sentence the lanky brunette is already plopping down onto the couch surface with a irritable sound of protest muffled by the fabric of your sweater.You smile down at the head full of curls staring back you, running your fingers through them making more by separating the bunches they make.

“Can’t believe I fell for that” He mumbled almost sadly for himself going crazy that he was so weak to your advances… I mean you worked with these types of people everyday! To think you were actually upset with him for a… rational reason. Instead you were ‘hurt’ simply because of his choice of pumpkin spice black coffee Morgan had convinced him to try.

“I can’t believe out of everything you chose pumpkin.” You teased in a matter of factly way while still massaging the back of his scalp. You could feel the curl of the brunette’s lips past the thin sweater you were wearing. When Spencer finally moved his head from being burrowed in your stomach the big guns were out and blazing. A certain pout with his combination of sad eyes made you fold everytime and the brunette knew it too.

“Spencer.” It was your turn to whine now dragging out the final ‘R’ in his name and he hummed satisfied. Pursing his lips and inching towards you. However, he was still to be met with a completely different texture than the softness of your lips by rather the palm of your hand.

“You seriously have to brush your teeth”

“Well studies recorded that if you face your discomforts head on then you’re 20% more likely to be less uncomfortable about it.” You can hear the smirk in his voice as he inches closer, making you squeal. You quickly turn yourself loose from his hold before it can tighten around your arms and you two spend the evening playing catch the cat with smiles on your faces.

#🦇𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑;𝐆 #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #romance #fluff #spooktober #flufftober #spooky season #writing #i love you #2024 #thewriterg

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scoutswritingcorner · 8 months ago

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Hiiiiii Scoutttt, could you do a chauffeur y/n getting hit on by maybe a Vees worker or just some random demon if you haven’t done so already? I’m in the mood for some chaos! >:3333 thanks bestie <3333

Jealousy

PolyVees x Gn!Chauffeur!Reader

TW:Valentino and jealousy. Mentions of being possessive.

A/N: KAISER!!! Of course I can bestie!~

As the Vee’s personal chauffeur no one really bothers you or they are too afraid to come up to you (that’s why your social media exists /j) so if you did have any suitors..it’s possibly a rare occurrence that they have the confidence to stroll up to you and near the Vee’s. So it’s most likely a worker under one of the Vee’s.

But oh boy, once those three get wind of it? OOO YOU ARE IN FOR A REAL TREAT BBY. They claim they are above a simple fact of jealousy but none are. All three are jealous fuckers and they love your attention so if your attention is not on them 25/8 then what the fuck are you doing? You’re hurting their feelings!

But finding out it’s one (or multiple) of their employees? Pisses them off.

Valentino is by far the worst one of the three to get jealous. He gets hella possessive of you and your time, but mostly you. He goes all out making sure if you are near him, that you are his and he is yours. No one else is allowed to even fucking breathe near you. He’s also sitting you on his lap and purring in your ear the whole time, telling you how hot it would be just to see you wearing something he gifted you, make sure everyone knows your his. Don’t worry about the person who flirted with you! They are dead.

Velvette is the second highest jealous person in the Vee’s. She isn’t up there with Valentino cause he is his own breed. But she is a very jealous lady because she doesn’t share. The only exception? She's sharing with the other two and that’s already pissing her off. But once she finds out it’s an employee? She’s firing them (they are lucky she isn’t killing them), slandering their name and reputation before going back to whatever she was doing with you. For the next couple of days, she’s gonna be near you more and if she can’t be? You're wearing her brand and her colors.

Vox is much more chill than the other two but he does get hella jealous at times. Like. Almost Valentino levels. So he’s also very possessive but he’s not gonna make his presence known until they lay hands on you. Then? He pops up and drags you away as the employee gets fired by electrocution. Like Velvette, he’s gonna stick with you the whole day and treat you to any and everything. He’s a lowkey sugar daddy. He also pulls you onto his lap if he sits somewhere cause he wants to show you off even if you just want to go take a nap somewhere.

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mikaela-the-slut-expert · 11 months ago

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Hi! Can I request a Hua Cheng x bottom male reader x Xie Lian one shot? Maybe that the three of them are already in a relationship together. And maybe when they all go to Qi Rong's (the black water calamity) lair to kill him in that one chapter/episode, Before they start fighting Qi Rong starts flirting with reader and it makes HuaLian jealous as fuck. And so when they defeat him they drag reader back to the Puqi Shrine and reminds him who he belongs too 🤭

Also if possible can you make it smut?

Feel free to delete this ask if you want tho!

Look At Me

Hua Cheng x M!reader x Xie Lian

Sorry it took so long I'm still in school guys 😞 at first I was confused because I thought you were talking about He Xuan because I was sure he was the black water calamity

I forgot the prince's name guys

I made up connections for Qi Rong and reader

Ignore grammar mistakes

Slight ooc?

Smut ahead!!!

____________________________________

They knew it wasn't going to be easy, nor was it going to feel good. Hua Cheng has meant to find Qi Rong, reveal the truth to Lan Qin Qao, and continue on with their lives. Well, he just wanted to beat the shit out of Qi Rong for what he did to Xie Lian.

All of you went to Qi Rong's lair, and watched Hua Cheng beat Qi Rong's face into the ground. Then you all got to listen to the truth about the banquet. So far so good. 'good' is an emotional ride for everyone there. But that was the whole point anyways.

Everything was going as planned, in Hua Cheng's book anyways. Until Qi Rong started slandering Hua Cheng and Xie Lian. He started yelling about how Hua Cheng was Xie Lian's dog, and how Xie Lian is so pure he must've been blinded by it.

You have a deep past with Xie Lian, and a relationship with both men so of course you aren't happy to hear these things. Especially from Qi Rong. You used to be close with him, of course you were. He was Xie Lian's cousin so obviously you would've met him. Now look at Qi Rong. It was truly pitiful.

You were upset by the words Qi Rong was saying, he used to be such a good child for you. The things he was saying weren't fair to your lovers, you also didn't want to see Qi Rong get beat up anymore. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng already had a go at him.

"Qi Rong you've grown to have such a vulgar tongue, please be quiet." You weren't going to hit anyone, you're too sweet for that, so you could only ask him nicely. It's the first thing you've said since you've been here. You haven't said anything, rather staying quiet instead. You just didn't want things to escalate further.

You hadn't expected it to work, Qi Rong is. . . Unstable, to put it nicely. Plus he hasn't looked at you this whole time you doubt he remembers you at all. It's been so long.

Qi Rong snaps his head towards you and his giggling dies down. "Y/n? Y/n is it really you? What a wonderful reunion this is!" Even though Qi Rong had just been upset about 'people throwing a party in his lair'.

"Come closer, come closer I want to see your face y/n. It seems you've been by my high and mighty cousin all this time." He grins widely. You don't reply to that, you don't know what to say. You had gone to step forward though, to allow Qi Rong to see your face after all these years.

Xie Lian stopped you though. Where he usually is so hesitant to touch you has been thrown away, he pulls you by the elbow, behind him now. Xie Lian doesn't know why he does it. Anger? Jealousy? Selfishness? Protectiveness? Hostility? Who knows but he knows that him and Hua Cheng will lose it if Qi Rong dares to spit harmful words towards you.

But Qi Rong doesn't. He does the contrary, as if Qi Rong had really missed you. As if he had a right to your person. He laughs, finding it hysterical how Xie Lian pulls you behind him. How his big cousin is selfish even though he acts like the most selfless person to ever breathe. "Hahaha! Look at you big cousin! Look, look! You've always been selfish! Selfish!" He laughs and laughs against the ground.

Qi Rong looks at you, what he can see peaking over Xie Lian's shoulder anyways. "Y/n, Y/n I've missed you over these 800 years. You must've been blinded by big cousin's light too! His pureness and selflessness right?! You should come with me instead. I miss Y/n's pretty face I haven't seen it in so long!" And he dares to try and reach a hand to your robes.

You don't know if he's being honest in his words or if he's saying it to piss off your lovers. You wouldn't put it past him. "Qi Rong please" you hiss through your teeth. You had been so focused on Xie Lian that you had completely forgotten about the seething ghost behind you.

Hua Cheng's devotion to Xie Lian is admirable and his devotion to you is the same. Qi Rong very quickly finds his face being slammed into the ground again. It's a very gruesome sight and you didn't enjoy it all. Hiding behind Xie Lian and covering your ears as Qi Rong continues to roll your name over his tongue.

Things pass, and tensions increase. Eventually leading to Qi Rong being cut in half and thrown into boiling liquids. Even though Xie Lian drags you off, you can't help but stare where Qi Rong was thrown.

Once the three of you are out of the lair, you're all interrupted by Shi Qingxuan and Feng Xin. Feng Xin wants the two of you to come back to the heavens. To come home. He demands it actually, threatening Hua Cheng with his bow and arrow. Shi Qingxuan stops him though. You and Xie Lian get pulled behind Hua Cheng.

Once things smooth over with them and Hua Cheng bullies Feng Xin with blood rain, you were expecting to go back to the heavens with Xie Lian. The two of you do need to get up there and explain everything that has happened. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng decide differently though. Instead you're dragged off and your lovers are eerily silent, seething quietly. You don't know what to say, because you don't know why they're upset. So you don't say anything you let them drag you along.

They've taken you to Puqi shrine. You can only assume that maybe after such a tiring day, that everyone is missing home. Maybe your lovers just want to spend a few hours with you and have some peace. To make what happened earlier a distant memory. Your mind is quickly changed.

Your assumptions prove wrong when Xie Lian drags you through the door and shoves you down on the mat. "H-hey! What is wrong with you?" You look away. Xie Lian grips your jaw and snaps your gaze back towards him. "Look at me, don't look away again" Xie Lian has never treated you so roughly. You've known him a long time and he's always treated you carefully. Not even in bed does he usually dare to treat you so hard.

You try to gain your balance, and to get off of the floor. You're quickly pulled back by your shoulders and your back meets Hua Cheng's chest. Leaving you between your two, seething lovers. And you? You poor, oblivious thing. You don't even understand why.

"A-Lian, San Lang! Why are you acting like this!?" You're left with no answer besides Xie Lian practically tearing at your robes and San Lang pinning your back against his chest. He's not giving you the chance to move away. Not that you would anyhow.

Hua Cheng being angry, and upset is nothing new. It's concerning sometimes but he tends to pout a lot so you expect it. Seeing Xie Lian angry, is frightening. Well, not exactly but you haven't seen him angry in a long time but he's never been angry with you. Ever.

You're stripped quickly, and your hands shoot out to Xie Lian's face. Holding his face in your hands, making him look at you, forcing him to pause in his ministrations. "A-Lian, what's wrong?"

Xie Lian's brow furrows and he lets out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry y/n" he huffs softly and holds your wrist. He moves his face to the side and kisses your palm. "Qi Rong was right I am selfish. I am, I shouldn't be but I can help it. But I'm selfish for good reasons" he moves closer, nipping at your neck. His usual soft kisses, become possessive bites.

"I have a right to claim you, to touch you. You're mine. You're San Lang's. You're ours" he hisses through his teeth and he bites your shoulder hard. His hands roam while he talks, spreading your legs and his oiled fingers prod at your hole. Where did he get a bottle of oil? When did he even do that?

San Lang makes himself busy by kissing you and shoving his tongue down your throat. Stealing your breath as if it were his. Not that he needs to breathe.

Xie Lian continues, "But what right does he have to claim you? To try and take you away from me, from us?" Xie Lian growls out, and presses fingers up against your prostate. It didn't take long for him to find it, he's explored you many times. It causes you to arch against San Lang's chest and moan into his mouth.

Xie Lian doesn't feel like being nice today though because his fingers continue to rub and curl up against your prostate. You squirm against them both, moans being ripped out of you by Xie Lian nimble fingers. "A-Lian, A-Lian, please~!"

San Lang bullies you too, making you dizzy from his kisses and his forces your legs apart. He's encouraging Xie Lian to bully you. San Lang is good in bed and Xie Lian is usually obedient, but Xie Lian getting out of his shell to bully you? San Lang enjoys it thoroughly.

One of his hands wraps around your dick and he strokes you, he only makes it worse. The two take out their frustrations on you, leaving you to mumble their names. With both of them bullying your front and back, it's not long until your cumming. A long moan spills from your lips and your legs try to clamp shut. San Lang doesn't let them though.

You double over and heave a breath when they don't stop. Xie Lian bullies your prostate and San Lang moves his fingers faster around your dick. It quickly puts you into overstimulation and pretty tears drip from your eyes. "No, no, slow down~" You whine, and your legs shake into San Lang's hold.

"Tell us who's you are then" San Lang purrs in your ear. Another orgasm is forced out of you and you babble some more. "Xie Lian d-does, San Lang too. Please!" You squeal from the pleasure.

Those words are forced out of you many times that night, because they don't intend to let you get away so soon. They bully you for the rest of the night and when you show up in the heavens the next day you have a slight limp. The other officials are worried you were injured by Hua Cheng, but it was both Xie Lian and Hua Cheng who made you cry on their cocks.

____________________________________

I hope you like it 😁🙏🖤🖤

#tgcf #tgcf headcanon #hualian #hualian x reader #tgcf x male reader #hua cheng x reader #tgcf hua cheng #tgcf hualian #tgcf xie lian #xie lian x reader #tgcf oneshot #mxtx tgcf

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awkwardandeccentric · 4 months ago

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I think Octavia knows more than she’s letting on.

Let me preface this by saying I will not allow any Octavia slander or victim-blaming for Stolas. Octavia is a child and Stolas is surviving domestic violence. It’s an on-site block if I see that nonsense.

Having said that

Going off my own experiences watching my parents, I always knew something was…off. I couldn’t place it. I couldn’t name it. I was too young to understand the concept of abuse. My parents were married. They loved each other…right?

Unlike Stella and Stolas, my parents actually had loved each other at some point. But that didn’t change the fact that my earliest memories are of extreme stress, living in tension I didn’t cause but felt it was my job to fix. If I couldn’t fix it, I needed to avoid it.

Octavia seems to go the avoiding route. She plays music whenever she can, she tries to stay out of her parents’ way, and she doesn’t react at all to her mom throwing her dad’s plants around or screaming while tossing their butler at him.

Stella, by abusing Stolas, is also abusing Octavia. How do you think that affects her? Even if Stolas and Stella keep the worst of it away from her, she’s still hearing her mother use racist, degrading language towards her father and seeing Stella be violent with his things. She’s still learning that that’s an acceptable response to stress. Having a parent lose their shit at you for the simplest of things also dysregulates your nervous system. Chronic yelling is abusive because it puts you into fight/flight/freeze mode 24/7. That’s going to wreak havoc on your mind and body. Octavia has learned to keep her head down and stay invisible so she doesn’t have to deal with it (as is not her job. The abuser is always 100% at fault for the abuse. It’s also not a child’s job to protect a parent).

We also know she had nightmares as a kid of Stolas vanishing. I’ve seen speculation that this is her powers manifesting and I don’t disagree- this is a fantasy show- but I also think her subconscious knows there’s danger in her home. Her little five-year-old mind knows something is very wrong and the consequence of things not being made right is her father disappearing (and she was right. Stolas is only alive because Andrealphus convinced Stella to call off the hit).

We also never see her actually interact with Stella. Every time she talks about her parents, she’s either talking about Stolas as an individual or both of them as a unit. There’s no portraits of her playing with Stella. She never mentions good memories of Stella. She knows subconsciously that Stella is an unsafe, uninvolved parent and Stolas is her safe place.

Except, Stolas is fighting back.

There’s this thing that’s not talked about often called ‘reactive abuse.’ It’s when the victim is pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed until they yell back or hit back. And then the abuser gets to turn around and say “oh my god you’re so abusive how could you do this to me??”

When Octavia is complaining about Stolas and Stella “screaming at each other” I think what she’s actually seeing is Stolas pushed to his limit and biting back after 17 years of keeping himself as small and quiet as possible. But because she doesn’t have this language or knowledge, to her, it looks like he’s fighting with Stella, the known aggressor, for no reason.

Where am I going with this? Idk. Set this girl up with a case worker and a workbook on domestic abuse.

#stolas #helluva boss #octavia #stella #domestic violent relationships #seriously if I see any victim blaming or Stella stans #it’s blocking on site #reactive abuse #tw child abuse

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gamarancianne · 11 months ago

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Azriel x reader - In Between part 2

Part 1

Summary: trying to regain your confidence after your broken heart, you met someone in the same position as you and developped one of the best friendships you had ever had. A genuine and sincere friendship. But this person may be closer by other ways to you than you thought.

Warnings: still angst, alcohol in a not healthy way, heartbreak again, hypocrite Elain (kinda slander ig), Lucien being the best.

Note: well maybe a part 3 ig 😅, I was really inspired tbh. Thank you all for having loved the part 1 and shared it with me ! Ily 💗💗 and don't hesitate to ask me something or chat with me in my inbox or dm, or in the comments !

You had been a crying mess for two weeks now, sometimes you went out in a bar to drink so much you would forget even your name. That was the point, forget the constant sting in your heart and you head. Forget him, his beautiful Hazel eyes and inked tattoos on his broad and golden chest. And here we go again: the tears flooded themselves on your face. It was a day to drink today, or tonight, you didn't really have a time notion for the past two weeks: waking up at dawn or dusk, eating, crying and sleeping. You had to forget about all those beautiful things about him, you had to empty your brain and heart. You didn't want to feel something again.

As you were walking to the nearest bar, you thought about those letters elain had sent you, saying you were her dearest friend and asking if your confession went well. You knew she knew that it was you in her apartment that cursed day, but she still pretended and even was saying the complete opposite of what she had said to azriel, falsely comforting you. Was she ever was your friend at this point ? Or has she always criticised and stabbed you behind you back ? Anyway you had decided that it was way better for you to ignore her and keep living your life, if you could still call what you were living a life, without her.

You didn't even noticed when you had arrived in front the door of the bar, but you did and entered, going directly to your now favorite spit in front of the barman : the alcohol was there easier to get. You didn't see then, the redhead man who was at the exact place you had been the few days prior. How dare he steal your chair like that ? Approaching slowly you stilled and you understood that this man was surely in the same situation as you, a heartbreak, seeing his bent frame and the many empty glasses in front of him. They could only have been his because no one was seated near him, and everyone was judging him. They were all avoiding the poor man whose name you didn't know.

"I was almost mad at you for stealing my favourite seat" you stated, seating next to him as his head shot to your side wondering if you were really talking to him.

"Yes I'm talking to you"

"Ah, I'm sorry for your seat do you want it back ?" He asked, genuinely embarrassed, his cheeks flushed.

"No I'm fine here, I can speak with you ...?" You asked ?

"Lucien".

"I'm yn, and as I was saying, I can speak with you here Lucien" he nodded.

"Nice to meet you yn, but you don't wanna talk to me, don't you see all the glares everyone sends me here ?" He drank in a one shot what seemed to be whisky and stared again at his now empty glass.

"Oh gods you men !" He looked at you confused "I know what I'm doing fuck ! I'm a grown up woman and I can make my own choices ! You re the second on in two weeks who tells me what I want or not." You snapped.

"Oh I'm sorry, then stay if you want." He apologized quickly.

You asked shots to the barman and stayed silent a bit nefore you both asked in one voice "what are you here for ?". You two chuckled a bit before you said "you first".

"Well I've kinda learnt that my mate, who knows that she is my mate is dating someone else. And I feel like I'm not allowed to have just once an ounce of happiness." You were hurt for him as you heard his story that he told you with a careless demeanor. He must really be at his lowest.

"Ouch that hurts, I'm sorry man. She's a fool if you want my opinion." He smiled sadly at your answer and pointed you from his chin asking you silently your story.

"Well im heartbroken as well, my best friend encouraged me confessing to the man I love, but he rejected me, and not in a nice way. But as lucky as I am, I learnt that he is dating my best friend who is a back stabber." I emptied my glass in one drink.

"Ouch that hurts too, I'm sorry." He said echoing my words.

We spent the night drinking, and drowning ourselves in alcohol but in a more joyful way than usually.

I then went more and more at the bar to see him, but we drank less and less, leaving place to real conversations between us. It became quickly a routine, and Lucien became one of my best friends, well my only friend of the time actually. And I was one of his only friend as well. Two broken hearts healing parts of eachothzr then didn't even break. Lucien had explained to me his family problem, and how his former male best friend was a toxic man in relationships, how he had been poorly treated in his biological family, and how his actual best friend was his mate's sister so he didn't know how to approach her anymore. He came a lot in my appartment to spend time with me, he even slept in sometimes, because he couldn't face his current family. He practically had his room in your home, some of his stuff never really left.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After 2 knocks on your door you unwillingly got off your couch and opened it letting a wild and out of breath Lucien appear in front of it.

"Lu ? Are you okay ?" That was his new nickname, he loved it, because he felt like he was loved for once in his life.

"Yes.. no ? I need you to come with me like right now ! "

"Oh okay let me get me keys and I'm coming" you trusted Lucien too much to ever doubt about him, if he needed you then you were there for him.

You left your apartment and went to the direction he indicated. After a while you panicked a little, seeing that you were going to the high lord's house.

"Lucien you know I love you but where are we going?"

"To a family dinner, I can't go alone. See, my mate's relationship got complicated and she always complains to me when I'm alone, which is all the time. So I feel like I'm just a plan b and I'm really uncomfortable when she does it. Don't worry I've told them that someone was going with me."

"I understand Lu, but at the high lord's ?" You asked sceptical.

"Well yes, because my best friend I told you about is Feyre."

"What ?" Lucien, had never told the names of his family members, and you neither, so discovering that his friend was you high lady so that you were going to see Azriel made you weak to the bones.

"Lucien ? Your mate is Elain ??"

"What, yes ? How do you know ??" He exclaimed as he stopped on his tracks.

"She is the fake friend I told you about !" You answered on the same tone.

"So it means that.."

"I am in love with Azriel... yes."

"Oh gods" you both sighed.

"Hum yn ?" He asked unsure of what to say.

"Mmh"

"Have I told you that Cassian and him were the ones to get us to the house?"

"No, no, no. Please no ! But what would we even need to be picked up ?"

"We can't winnow so it's either that or climb 10 000 stairs".

Both fearing the fast approaching dinner, the last part of the walk was silent and the air heavy with tension. You held your breath when you saw two winged big figures, Cassian and Azriel. The first one shot his head in your direction and smiled confused.

"Yn ?" Azriel stiffened as he heard your name. "What does owe us the pleasure to see you ?"

"I'm the one to go with Lu today but I didn't know it was with you...". Azriel froze completely still turning his back to you. He wasn't sure it was you but now it was certain and he couldn't face you after the mean things he had said to your face. He hadn't talked about it to anyone except Elain and he kinda regretted it now. Things had got complicated between them because after your love confession she had grown so much jealous! He couldn't bear it anymore, he was a free man, he hadn't wings for nothing! They would argue a lot more and he hated that because it triggered bad memories in him. Plus he felt a bit bad about you. You hadn't done anything to him to deserve to be treated that way, he was ashamed of his actions because he knew that, as insecure as you seemed to be, you might have been spiralling since. That wasn't him, that wasn't how he was supposed to be. When he got Elain, she changed him a lot, and he wasn't sure anymore that it was for the good. She crushed all of his efforts to keep the bad parts of him inside. He was meaner, colder, he wasn't himself. Rhys have scolded him a little about that and he had really reacted in a bad way. An evidence of what Rhys had advanced. Azriel was sure he had made you feel bad, and he didn't want it : you were a nice and smart female, a little clumsy but still beautiful and lovely. As he finally turned to you, all of his regret splashed on him when crossing your look and seeing you pained eyes. You quickly put your head down and he felt even more bad to have made lose enough confidence for you to fear to hold his gaze. Thinking about it, he didn't understand you insecurity of the beginning, before the altercation. How could you, a very beautiful female, ever doubt about yourself ?

Realisation hit him, that he would have to take you flying because it would be awkward if he took Lucien, his girlfriend's mate. He knew she was complaining to him, and he felt even sorry for the poor Lucien. But a question lingered in his mind: how did you two know eachother ? And why the fuck would Lucien bring you to a family dinner ? Were you dating ? Fear crossed his eyes for a second before regaining his composure. You couldn't be dating Lucien, it was impossible, you had just said two weeks ago that you loved him. Could you have moved that fast ? It frightened him, knowing that he had grown to like you when thinking of your shared moments at training, where you two had laughed, sometimes until crying joy tears, and regretting the mean rejection he had given you in return of something so intimate and innocent as your love and devotion for him. Damn him he had even insulted you ! He cursed himself more and more until he got out of his head when Cassian called him.

"Azriel wake up ! You take yn." He said when shooting in the sky Lucien in his arms.

You both stayed in an awkward bubble, without moving an inch, avoiding the gaze of one another, for 30 long seconds that felt like hours.

"I'm sorry" and "so how are you doing" came at the same time from him side you. You awkwardly chuckled but he stayed still so you stopped finally having the guts to look at him in the eye for more than a millisecond.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, louder this time. You froze. You didn't want that to happen. You didn't want him to face you abut what happened. It would made it real, and you still hadn't enough courage for that.

"What for ?" You asked, your voice breaking.

"You what for".

You hesitated a lot before responding. "No actually I don't. Was it for mean rejecting me without an ounce of regret or nicenessin your words ? Or maybe the fact that you destroyed my confidence? Oh no ! I know, it was for the time you mocked me in front of my friend, who is in fact your girlfriend, and a fake friend!"

"You weren't supposed to be there that time." He said, suddenly finding the floor really interesting.

"Maybe but I was, so it's the same result and the same mean words that came out of your mouth."

He knew you were right. You were completely allowed to be mad at him for the way he treated you. But it was still hard. Azriel had never been in proper relationships nor had he ever been confessed to. It wasn't a proper excuse but it still made it hard to accommodate to those things for a boy deprived of love for all his life. He didn't know how to react, so to him, the better solution was to stay silent. You sighed, disappointed and he came awkwardly closer to you to hold you and shoot in the sky, following Cassian and Lucien, long arrived and waiting for you worried (especially Lucien).

Elain was waiting for Azriel, or Lucien, no one knew, on the balcony of the House of Wind and almost fell when she saw you. You in Azriel's arms, accompanying Lucien. Azriel struggled to let you go, especially after your conversation, but the second you were out of his hold, Elain held you in a crushing hug. You rapidly got out as well, feeling uncomfortable after her hypocrisy. You gave her a sad smile and Lucien introduced you to Feyre and Rhysand who had already told you to call them by their name, and to Mor and Amren. They all welcomed you warmly except Elain and Azriel of course who both looked like ashamed puppies with their tails between their legs.

After dinner, everyone went out in the garden for a tea and you found yourself on a couch behind Lucien sat on the floor. Automatically, because it was something you were now used to do, your hands found his head and started playing with his hair. Everyone had their eyes on you, confused on your proximity but you didn't notice and kept going on braiding his hair.

"I'll do yours later I promise" Lucien said, looking at you from above.

"I hope so !". Leaving everyone even more confused now.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When you were ready to left with Lucien, Elain caught you and asked you to have a word with her.

Lucien gave you a worried look and you nodded making him understand you were okay for now.

She led you to a private room and paced in it awkwardly. She opened her mouth twice and closed it almost instantly like she wanted to say something but didn't know where to start.

"So, you ans Azriel ? Huh"

"You have actually no right to be mad at me." She cut you off.

"Excuse me ? But I have every right to be mad at you right now ! You have treated me poorly faking to be my friend and laughing at me when you should have been comforting me !" You snapped, angry.

"Well, it's not like someone could ever treat you well."

"What, what do you mean ?"

"Look at you yn, nobody would ever really be with you. You're not ugly but you're not beautifu, you're not dumb but you're not smart, you're just.. Well you. And that's clearly not enough." She looked at you disgustingly.

"But Lucien is treating me well.." You said tears welling in your eyes.

"Don't be blind, yn, he's a man, and like Azriel he will ran to me when he'll see that you're no longer interesting. You were nice and all, you listened to me but I guess I just got bored of you, anyone would." And with that she left the room, leaving 8 pairs of eyes on you as she opened the door. They instantly approached you, Feyre apologising a thousand time for the mean behaviour of her sister and Azriel staying in the back, his eyes full of worry and apology. He was trying to make you feel like everything she had said was false, that you were so much more than that, worthy of the stars,of two shining stars. Because yes they had heard everything. Lucien made his way to the crowd of his family surrounding you and hesitated before he hugged you out of nowhere. Azriel clenched his jaw and his hands turned into fists. When Lucien released you of his grasp, your expression hadn't changed, its like you were empty, just one single tears had escaped your eye. Cassian and Azriel flew you to the ground of Velaris and the last one had kept his hand on yours to make you look at him.

"I'm sorry, for what she said. It's not one bit true."

"Don't worry, she's surely right..." You had answered your gaze falling on his hand. You had never noticed the scars an them, they were so beautiful, so textured, so unique. You eyes widened at the sight and Azriel quickly hid them behind back before keeping going.

"No she wasn't, please don't doubt yourself because of what came out of her mouth because of jealousy. Because that's what she was and still is, jealous."

"Thank you Az really." You sadly smiled at him before joining Lucien who was waiting for you.

He didn't know why, but something clicked in him seeing you walk away under the arm of Lucien and hearing again his nickname from your mouth. He thought it rolled well on your tongue and really wanted to hear it again, as soon as possible. And it tensed him a lot to know that this man who touched you, was probably sleeping at yours tonight, maybe in your bed to comfort you after this emotionally hard day. It puzzled him a lot and didn't even know why, until his shadows came to his ears and murmured repeatedly "want to be him".

Tag list:

@kalulakunundrum

#acotar #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel x yn #elain archeron #lucien x reader #inner circle #morrigan #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #rhysand #cassian #amren #acotar x you #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #writing #writers on tumblr

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neytirisheaven · 1 year ago

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i can’t lose when i’m with you

warnings: you know the drill: no use of y/n, strong language, sirius calls reader “darling/my darling”, reader is a gryffindor, reader almost gets attacked by remus, slightly suggestive near the end, ooc peter (NO YOUNG PETER SLANDER), a few smoochies at the end, this is barely proofread so i apologize for any mistakes

sirius black x fem!reader word count: 6.5k

summary: in which sirius struggles to ask you out on a date, so the marauders assist him in his goal, aka the 4 times sirius black tries to ask you out and the 1 time he succeeds

notes: so…….. let’s not talk about the fact that i posted this so fucking late and let’s talk about the fact that it’s sirius black…..!! anyways so this is probably not cohesive and there are probably a lot of plotholes and inconsistencies in here but i was STRUGGLING to write this okay, like i would write 700 words and then dip because i literally couldn’t pull anything else out of my ass

LUCKILY, OUT OF the seven years you’ve spent at Hogwarts, you’ve never been so much as looked at by the infamous Marauders. Sure, they messed around with your friends, and you’ve attended their rambunctious parties after a Quidditch win, but you were fortunate enough to not be bothered by them.

That was, until the one and only Sirius Black laid his eyes on you.

You had vowed to never even come close to fraternizing with a Marauder—besides the occasional conversations with Remus—let alone fall into their trap of tricks with their corny pickup lines and their woo-worthy smiles.

And you were going to stand by that vow. No matter what. Or so you thought.

i. i’d touch that fire for you

It all started when you were peacefully sitting at your regular table in the Great Hall, talking to your friends about the newest gossip about a few of the prefects in the year below you. You prodded at the slice of your pumpkin pie, not too interested in the food as you were in the drama that seemed to be unfolding before your eyes.

But, to your demise, your gossip was cut short by a loud declaration of your name—wait, your name? No, this had to have been a joke. Right?

You slowly turned around in your seat to find Sirius Black standing right behind you, a bouquet of flowers magically appearing in his hands as soon as you locked eyes with him. He tossed his luscious hair over his shoulder and beamed brightly at you, gaining a few coos from the girls sitting around you.

“My darling,” he began, “it would be an absolute honor if you would allow me to take you out on a date to Hogsmeade next Saturday. Would you fancy a trip down there with me?” It was probably the fanciest he had spoken since he had dinner with his whole extended family, and he could’ve only hoped that he could woo you over and finally gain your affections.

You, on the other hand, were not willing to fall for what was obviously supposed to be a prank. Why the four pranksters had chosen you, of all people, to be the butt of this prank, you would never know, but it didn’t mean you were to act clueless about it the whole time.

“Go find someone else to prank, Black,” you muttered under your breath, sending your friends a confused look as you turned back to them. Only a few moments later, you felt the gentle tap of someone’s finger on your shoulder, causing you to turn around once more and look at the same boy that had now turned the bouquet into a three-tiered cake in a matter of seconds. You repeated yourself once more, “I’m not interested in your little jokes. It’s not something I look for in a person. But good job for trying.” You sent him a pitiful smile and returned to your conversation with your friends almost immediately, as if you were desperate to get out of the situation you found yourself in. You were desperate.

Sirius’ face fell as soon as you turned around, finally understanding that you were serious about everything you said. He just assumed you were playing hard to get. He didn’t think you saw it as some prank he was trying to play on you.

His dejected eyes met James’ soft, brown ones, only encouraging him to go even more all out compared to what he just did. It wasn’t the best idea, and both Remus and Peter could see it, but when Sirius was as enamored with someone as he was with you, it meant he was serious. Pun intended.

The raven-haired boy practically skipped over to his friends, James transfiguring the layered cake back into Remus’ water goblet and placing it in front of his friend. “We thank you for your sacrifice,” he spoke with no humor laced in his tone, causing the brunet to scrunch his nose up and return to the Muggle book he was currently reading; The Hobbit.

Sirius’s gaze flickered to the thick book in his friend’s hands, then shot up as if a bolt of lightning had struck him. “That’s perfect, Moony! My darling loves reading Muggle books! I’ve seen her with them in the library many times,” the boy exclaimed excitedly, bouncing around like a kid in a candy store.

“You go to the library? Willingly?” Peter questioned with his mouth full, earning a chastising smack to the back of his head.

Remus spoke up, “He’s trying to get her attention. We’ve got to give him some credit for that.”

“Thank you,” Sirius thanked the boy through gritted teeth, a bit peeved that one of his best friends had no faith in him. They had known of his crush on you for all of two months, and in all of his experiences with girls during his time at Hogwarts, he’d never been prepared for a feeling like the one you gave him. “Anyway, since you’re so invested in all your Muggle books, d’you think you could grab me one on your next visit to the Muggle bookstore?”

The three boys tried their hardest to look past Sirius’ flushed, pink cheeks as he requested a simple yet slightly embarrassing task. Peter and James shot each other a look before the latter leaned over the table with some brotherly advice hanging off the tip of his tongue.

“Just don’t be too annoying about it, Pads. You don’t have seven years for it to get less annoying like I had with Lily. Just, y’know, charm your way through it like you always do. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

ii. long as you dreaming ‘bout me, ain’t no problem

The atmosphere of the Quidditch stadium was always tense, especially whenever it came time for Gryffindor to play against Slytherin. The stands were full of students boasting their house colors, strictly separated into hues of greens and reds. Linus Spinnett animatedly narrated the gameplay, throwing in a few jabs at the Slytherin players here and there.

You watched as James and Sirius sped past you, side-by-side, unable to avoid their gazes. The latter called out your name, but you only ignored him and hid the bottom half of your face behind the scarf wrapped around your neck. He took a sharp turn and began spinning in small circles right in front of you in an attempt to get your attention, but you remained unbothered.

“Don’t you have better things to tend to, Sirius?” Your friend groaned from beside you, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders as she tried to shoo him away. “Go win the game, and maybe she’ll talk to you.”

Planting a chastising hand on your friend’s bicep, you whispered through gritted teeth, “Don’t encourage him! He’ll have the wrong idea.” Before you could even turn to Sirius to correct your friend’s statement, he already flew away with a dopey grin plastered on his face. It only motivated him more throughout the game, the quaffle landing in his arms more than anyone has seen before. Even James was surprised.

“Pads, what’s with you?” The Potter boy muttered, inching closer to his best friend. His eyes were trained on the bludgers being beaten around, but his complete focus was on his friend and his out-of-character actions. “I appreciate the need to win, but mate, don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh?”

Sirius took the time to look around at the stadium, his eyes landing on the three Slytherins clutching their arms, then at the scoreboard that showed Gryffindor leading by thirty-five points. “I’m being perfectly normal, Prongs. Thought you’d want to win.”

“I do, but–” James’ rebuttal was cut off by the sound of Linus’ voice echoing through the stadium, rejoicing in the Gryffindor seeker’s successful accomplishment.

“Berthia Thomas has caught the golden snitch! Gryffindor wins the game!”

Sirius’ ears perked up at the exclamation, immediately soaring down to the young seeker and not-so-gently taking the snitch out of her hands. “Do you mind if I take this? No? Great, thanks!” The ends of his Quidditch robes chased closely behind him as he flew all the way up to the stands, meeting you with a smug grin. The golden, engraved ball sat peacefully in his hand, its wings flapping softly against his palm. “For you, my darling,” he smiled at you, offering the snitch like an olive branch in a peace offering.

You eyed the small object in his hand, then glanced up at the scoreboard with the teams’ respective points: Gryffindor, 220 and Slytherin, 70. With a heavy heart and a sharp glare at your friend beside you, you reluctantly took the golden snitch from his hand and held it between your thumb and your forefinger.

Sirius felt a shiver climb down his spine at the feeling of your soft fingertips brushing against his calloused palm. Even the slightest touch between the two of you could make him melt.

“Thank you, Black.” Your voice was almost as soft as your touch. Offering him a small smile, you ushered your friend away from the front row and pushed past the crowd that was now gawking at the supposedly sweet actions of the infamous Sirius Black.

But you didn’t want to fall for it. Everyone who attended Hogwarts, even the clueless first years, knew about them. Everyone who attended Hogwarts had either witnessed, experienced, or heard of their silly little pranks, and you were not one to be fooled so easily by them.

With a fleeting glance, you looked back over your shoulder to see the boy’s figure slumped over the end of his broomstick, sadly looking down at the area of his palm where your fingers so happened to touch.

iii. i don’t got nobody, just with you right now

“Oh, come on! He’s practically courting you at this point! Just let him confess to you, and maybe you’ll see that he’s not trying to pull some elaborate prank on you!” Your friend lectured in the safe space of your dorm room, tugging on the collar of your sweater to try and knock some sense into you.

You protested her points, “You say that as if he isn’t known for leading girls on and breaking their hearts. I don’t want to be another girl for him to add onto his list.”

“James has matured, look at him and Lily! I’m sure if you give him the chance–” “Have you seen him? Potter may have matured, but I’m not too confident in Sirius. He has to do more than just offer me a golden snitch or flowers or a three-tiered cake. Physical offerings do nothing to rid him of the reputation he’s been building for himself since first year. If he’s serious about fancying me, then he has to do something meaningful.”

Before your friend could refute you any further, you looked at her with a heavy gaze to effectively quiet her. The two of you returned to the light gossip you were talking about prior to bringing up Sirius Black, and a few hours later, you both agreed to part ways so you could find a comfy spot in the library to study.

She dropped you off at the entrance on the way to her rendezvous with a Ravenclaw boy in your year, bidding you a curt goodbye before breaking out into what could be considered a skip through the long hallways of the castle.

You pushed through the doors and felt solace in the smell of the books and the soft rustling of students passing between the aisles. The librarian promptly gazed at you and offered a nod, to which you returned with a small smile.

Gazing up at the tall shelves of books, you thought to yourself and began trying to think of which books you required for a successful study session for the evening. Your feet seemed to be leading you to the very back of the library, where you noticed the smallest flicker of yellow light behind a multitude of bookshelves. As you inched closer, your ears picked up the softest whispers being passed between what seemed to be two people.

You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering who could possibly study back here, where the bookshelves are impossibly closer to each other and leave no room for a singular person in the aisle, let alone two people to comfortably study. Grabbing a book off a random shelf to incriminate yourself less in case it was two students chatting about something not meant for curious ears, you pushed past the last row of books to find—

Sirius and Remus? In a rather spacious area, might you add.

They sat at a table placed flush against the wall, a small candle being the only source of light besides the sunlight from the windows that barely reached the back of the library. It was a comfortable spot, albeit the many efforts it took to get past all the tight bookshelves. They hadn’t even noticed you at first, too engrossed in a piece of parchment they had placed onto the table.

The two boys only noticed you when James had joined in, your eyes bulging out of their sockets when you watched him walk through a bookshelf. Well, it was supposed to be a bookshelf. You weren’t surprised that he had seemingly walked through a solid object, no. You’d done that plenty of times whenever you boarded or left Platform 9 ¾ throughout the years. You were left rather bitter that you put in all the effort to squeeze through all the stacks when you could’ve just walked through the bookshelf. Not that you would’ve known, though.

You looked up when James called your name. Sirius and Remus did, too. “When did you get in here? I would’ve noticed if you walked in,” the curly-haired boy frowned.

“I, uh, wedged myself through those bookshelves. Didn’t know there was an actual entrance.” You jutted a thumb over your shoulder and pointed to the very compressed bookshelves. Feeling quite awkward in your current position, with James frowning at you (or more specifically, how you got in), Remus smiling softly at you, and Sirius staring at you, you shuffled closer to the exit. “I’ll see myself out, now. Sorry. I won’t tell anyone about this, either, if you’re worried about that.”

As soon as you stepped foot past the fake bookshelf, you heard Sirius whisper-shouting at James to bring you back into the secret space.

“Wait!” He called out for you louder than he should have, quite possibly alarming the whole library of their whereabouts. With pursed lips, you swiveled on your heel and walked back through the bookshelf, shooting James a questioning look. “So, uh,” he repeatedly looked at you, then behind you, then at you again, “you said you went between those small gaps in the bookshelves?”

You nodded your head, unaware of how Sirius was urging the boy to keep the conversation going while Remus struggled to fish something out of his bag.

“We’ll have to seal that, then.” James spoke more to himself than to you.

Glancing over to the gaps, you spoke up once more. “And just so you know, the only reason I came back here was because I could hear Remus and Sirius whispering. You might want to look into that since you yelled rather loudly. Don’t want anyone else coming back here, do you?”

At your revelation, James immediately turned to his two friends with his eyes blown wide. You then heard a whispered chorus of “You didn’t cast it? I thought you did! Well, I didn’t cast it!” and before they could say much more, you lifted your wand and silently casted Muffliato around the whole area.

Sirius looked at you with more admiration in his eyes than ever before. He was practically looking at you with heart eyes, as if you were all the stars in the world joined together into one girl.

“Also, those gaps are wide enough to be peeked through. You might want to seal it up or put some charm on it so that no prying eyes look through.” The bell of the clock tower rang and bounced around the castle walls, almost as if cueing you to leave. “Well, that’s where I take my leave. And I stick by what I said earlier. I won’t speak a word of this.”

Finally leaving, you walked through the exit and shuffled through the aisle, only to be caught by the wrist. You looked over your shoulder to find Sirius smiling cheekily at you, holding a book in his hands. You turned around, a bit uncomfortable at how your arms harshly grazed at the wood of the bookshelves on either side of you. They were much more spacious compared to the shelves on the other side, but it still left little room for two people to be standing together.

He held the book up to you, allowing you to read the cover. “I bought this for you. I know you’ve been wanting it for a while,” he offered, gently putting it in your hands. “I also wanted to let you know that I didn’t conjure it up or anything. I bought it with my own money and all. If that means anything to you.” Bringing a hand up to his nape, he shyly rubbed at it as he watched your eyes dart from the book to his face.

Your mind was running at unfathomable speeds, trying to figure out how Sirius Black, of all people, found out how you wanted that specific book. You only told two people about it, and you and Lily had only spoken about it today in the confines of your N.E.W.T.-level Potions and Arithmancy classes, neither of which you shared with any of the Marauders. It wouldn’t have been enough time for Sirius to go out and buy it himself, if you were to trust his word on it.

That only left—Remus. You were quietly discussing it in Transfiguration while Professor McGonagall was helping a struggling student. The both of you had already completed the task as soon as she assigned it, so you turned to each other and talked about your shared love for Muggle books. Merlin, you felt so stupid. You thought he would respect your wishes of not wanting to be bothered by Sirius, but apparently not. “Remus,” you whispered lowly, quiet enough for the boy standing before you to barely hear what you said.

“What?” Sirius’ face flushed. “No, no. Moon—Remus didn’t have anything to do with it. Well, not really. But I bought this because I overheard you telling him about it in Transfiguration last week.”

You brushed away the odd nickname for Remus and visibly relaxed, hesitantly hugging the book to your chest. “I see. Well, in that case, I’ll use this book well. Thank you, Sirius.” Turning around and walking away, you spared no time exiting the library with the book in your hands, leaving the raven-haired boy to celebrate.

You had accepted his gift and called him by his first name! Two wins in a row!

iv. how can i snooze and miss the moment?

Surprisingly, Sirius had left you alone for the past three days. You hadn’t seen a day without him at least trying to court you, but for some reason, it was as if he’d turned into a ghost. It wasn’t like you minded, but it felt odd. Unnatural, even.

When it came nighttime, and you’d officially been left alone for three whole days, you decided to take a walk down to the Black Lake. You wanted to be left alone with your thoughts, the cool breeze of wintertime nearing, and the glimmering light of the full moon. The sound of a wolf howling flew past your ears, but you paid it no mind as you knew you were safe. There was no such thing as a werewolf on school grounds, it was impossible. You’ve had some suspicions in the past, but they can’t have been true.

Your hands plucked at the blades of grass beneath you, feeling the lush plant life beneath you. You had found a spot against a tree facing the lake and watched peacefully as the ripples of the water distorted the mirrored image of the moon and the trees around it.

Twigs snapped behind you, and your right hand flew to your coat pocket where your wand lie, but you were just taking precautions. It was probably just some other student wandering around after curfew, too. Everything would be just fine.

After half an hour of thinking to yourself, the sounds of the nature around you were becoming more stressful than relaxing. With a cautious step to the side and a meek glance past the thick tree trunk, you slowly made your way away from the Black Lake and towards the castle.

The faded footpath beneath you had turned into a muddy walkway long before you began attending Hogwarts, but it still felt unsettling. The canopy of the tall trees blocked the moonlight shining down on you, and their rustling leaves became ominous rather than peaceful.

Your hand remained snug in your coat pocket, feeling the wood of your wand against your palm. The howling wolf that was once far, far away now sounded impossibly close to you, and the multiple twigs snapping all around you caused you to grip your wand even tighter. “Hello? Is anybody there?”

No response. More twigs snapped. The ground beneath you began to shake.

“Hello? This isn’t funny! If this is supposed to be a prank, then cut it out!”

Still no response.

And then, out of nowhere, an earth-shattering growl echoed from right behind you. You turned slowly, pulling your wand out of your pocket in a fearful manner. Coming face-to-face with a werewolf, you realized all your reassurances of it being impossible were wrong. And you were about to die.

Pointing your wand at the creature, you looked into its eyes. They seemed familiar. Comforting, even. But this was a werewolf, and they were monstrous creatures, according to your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. You took a small breath and shakily held your wand up.

Just before you could cast a spell in its face, you got pushed to the side. You fell back against a tree with a wince, watching as a stag headbutted the werewolf in the chest with its antlers. “What the—” Your words were cut short by the feeling of something harshly tugging at the hem of your coat, successfully dragging you away from the scene. A yelp left your lips, your fingertips clawing at the ground in an attempt to escape whatever wrath you were facing now.

Looking down, you found a black dog pulling you by its sharp teeth, its eyes boring into you like you’d known each other before. You stopped trying to escape. You just let everything happen as you stared back down at the dog. ‘What was so familiar about these animals,’ you asked yourself, unaware of the werewolf bounding after you.

It had gotten past the stag, which was nowhere to be seen. You assumed you were going delusional. The werewolf, still familiar as ever, picked you up and growled, your wand now in your hand as you prepared to cast as many offensive spells as you could. Incantations left your mouth as quickly as you’ve ever casted before, but they did nothing to stop your impending doom.

The most you did was a large gash along the creature’s arm, but the injury only aggravated it more. Lifting you up as high as it could, the werewolf threw you to the ground as you braced for impact, feeling your body hit the ground just before you blacked out.

When you woke up, you found yourself in one of the infirmary beds with Madame Pomfrey tending to your injuries. Your collarbone was shattered, and you received a few cuts on your cheek, but it was nothing the lady couldn’t fix. You were only in the infirmary for observations and precautions.

As soon as she stepped away, you were met with the embarrassed smiles of James, Sirius and Remus all on infirmary beds opposite of you. “Wha—why are you three here?” You questioned suspiciously, examining each of their injuries for ones similar to the wounds you saw on the creatures the night prior.

James had bandages wrapped around his ribcage and an ice pack on his head. Sirius had multiple gashes along his side and a cast on his left hand. Remus had the most wounds of them all: a large scratch along his cheek, a deep cut on the side of his head, a bandage wrapped around both his forearms, a cast on his right foot, and a gash on his bicep.

Wait, a gash on his bicep?

“It was you, wasn’t it?” You spoke quietly, finally realizing why Remus always disappeared whenever it came time for a full moon and why James and Sirius always missed classes the day after. “James, y—you were the stag. Sirius, you were the dog, weren’t you? And Remus, oh, Merlin,” you gasped softly, remembering all the painful spells he must have had to endure from your wand. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve known.”

The lanky boy shook his head, “No, there was no way of you knowing.” He tried to reassure you even though they all knew it become more obvious every month. “And if you’re concerned about the spells, I’m fine. I got more wounds from these gits than from whatever you casted.”

“Only if you’re sure,” you muttered softly, eyebrows furrowed from the concern for someone you hoped to consider a friend. In fact, you hoped to consider all of the Marauders friends. It was obvious they’d matured from the pranksters they used to be in their younger years, and you were frankly relieved to find out that they were as bad as you thought they were.

You didn’t seem to notice how Sirius looked at you like you held the earth up with your bare hands, and if you did notice, you didn’t mention it. You kept your focus on Remus, his terrible injuries, and how he seemed to be unfazed by them. You felt horrible.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Remus said lightly, as if reading your mind. “I know what you’re thinking. You don’t have to feel bad. I’m used to it at this point.” Opening your mouth to explain how that was why you felt bad, the boy shot you a look and spoke your name chastisingly. You stayed quiet for a while.

“Sirius?” You called out for the boy in the bed directly in front of you. He reacted far too quickly and far too eager to not be embarrassed, but you ignored his actions and spoke up once more. “Why did you save me? You could’ve helped James with Remus.”

The boy pushed himself up so he could sit properly with his back leaning against the headboard of the bed. He ignored the sharp pain in his hand and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Couldn’t let you die before the Hogsmeade trip. Speaking of that, since I saved your life and all, I think it’d be a great opportunity to repay me by being my date to Hogsmeade?” Sirius’ statement came out as more of a question. His shoulders were tense and his breathing became rapid, though he wouldn’t admit to anyone how easily you could break down all the confident walls he’d built up.

“I would’ve rather died, then,” you joked.

“Ah, then I’d just have to save you all over again.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Sirius beamed brightly at you. “Is that a ‘yes’ to Hogsmeade?”

Shaking your head at him, you let out a small chuckle. “We’ll see.”

While you and Sirius playfully bantered back and forth across the infirmary, James leaned over to find Remus smirking right back at him.

“Are they flirting?” The curly-haired boy mouthed to his friend.

“It seems like it.” Remus mouthed back, a smile tugging on his lips.

“I bet five galleons we catch them snogging after Hogsmeade.”

Remus smirked between you and Sirius, still too engrossed in your conversation to notice what was going on around you. “I bet you ten galleons we’ll catch them snogging as soon we get released from here.”

“Deal.”

v. you just too important

After you got released, you returned to your classes like usual and dodged the multiple questions your friends asked daily. You only brushed them away when you couldn’t come up with a sorry excuse as to why you ‘suddenly started talking to Sirius Black,’ but you always told them the most extravagant lies you could string up when you had the chance.

The more time you spent talking to each other, the more you realized why all the girls dropped to their knees at the chance of being with him, even if it was just for one night. The more time you spent talking to each other, the more you realized that you were starting to fall for him. And it scared the hell out of you.

You even tried avoiding him when you first came to the realization that your feelings for Sirius were more than simply platonic, but your efforts only lasted a day before the boy sought you out and annoyed you until you were forced to give in.

So, as the days went by, you became closer and closer. And your feelings for each other became stronger and stronger. This time, though, you didn’t want to fight it. Not at all.

“Darling,” Sirius called out in his usual sing-songy tone as he strode into the Gryffindor common room. He ignored all the odd looks he received from the others and grinned once he found your figure next to the fireplace, entertaining a first year by feeding the flames a few old textbook pages. “Ah, there you are! Remus and I were looking for you!”

You smiled softly at the sound of the boy’s voice, but you didn’t turn around to let him see how he’s finally broken down your walls. “Did you need me, Siri?”

The new use of the nickname might have made Sirius scream his lungs out if he wasn’t in public and wasn’t still actively trying to hide that he was terribly in love with you. Instead, he only stared at you with a lovesick expression plastered onto his features, causing you to scrunch your nose up at the lack of a response.

You turned your head to look up at the boy, your doe eyes only pulling him in even more. “Sirius? Are you okay?” Chuckling awkwardly as he continued his intense, locked gaze on you and your pretty face, you redirected your attention to the equally awkward first year sitting beside you. “Well, if you’re going to stare, then you might as well sit down, yeah?”

Almost immediately, the raven-haired boy fell to the ground and sat crisscrossed, politely placing his hands in his lap as he watched you speak quietly to the young girl, her body relaxing when you placed a comforting hand on her. It was weird to have Sirius just staring at you in the beginning, but after a while, it was like he wasn’t even there. All he did was observe and listen.

He observed how you smiled gently at the girl whenever she spoke up in her small voice. He observed how your eyes lit up with fondness whenever you felt her touch. He observed how she leaned into you without hesitation when you offered to braid her beautiful, light brown hair. He observed how amazing you were with people younger than you, with kids. And he sure as hell observed how you would be a great mother and how he so desperately wanted to make y—well, that was a thought for another day.

Your gentleness was so endearing to him, it only made him fall for you more than he already had, if that was even possible.

Peter, who had been watching the interaction from afar, seemed to have had enough of the lingering tension and opportunities that weren’t acted upon. He wasn’t as aware of the whole situation as Remus and James were, but he was smart enough to piece all the little details together and figure out that both you and Sirius were too scared and were just waiting for the other to make a major move.

So, the boy took the situation into his own hands and dragged his friend away by the collar, taking him up to their dorm room despite the many, many efforts (albeit weak) made by the stronger boy.

“Wormtail,” Sirius whined as soon as he heard the door shut. He pretended like he didn’t know what was going on, but in reality, he was grateful that Peter inserted himself into the situation before the pining became too strong. “Why’d you bring me up here?”

“You know why,” the boy hummed as he scoured through his bedside drawers, looking for his stash of food he always had stocked up. “She likes you. A lot. And Pads, if you don’t make a move on her now, who knows who’ll be there to take her away from you. I know how you feel about her, she knows how you feel about her, and practically everyone else at Hogwarts knows how you feel about her, so just snog her already!”

To Sirius’ surprise, as soon as his friend found the box of chocolates, he didn’t take any for himself and instead walked straight out of the dorm room. The blond boy walked down the curved stairs of the tower and found you sitting in the same spot you were in before he dragged Sirius away.

As soon as you laid your eyes on him, you furrowed your eyebrows and beckoned him over. “Peter, did something happen with Sirius?”

“Ah, perfect! I was just coming to find you. Pads says he doesn’t want to eat, and I was thinking that if you offered him some chocolates instead of me, he might want to eat them. He hasn’t eaten the whole day.” The boy was speaking out of his ass, but he was tired of your unbearable pining, and frankly, so was everyone else.

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused by the sudden shift in character, but you shrugged your shoulders and took the box out of Peter’s hands. Patting the first year’s shoulder, you bid her goodbye and explained your task to her, pushing yourself off the ground and following the blond boy up to his dorm room.

The light box sat in your hands as you watched him rap his knuckles against the door, backing up until he stood behind you. The two of you patiently waited for Sirius to open the door, and as soon as he did, you felt Peter’s hands on your shoulders. Before you knew it, you had fallen directly into Sirius’ arms, effectively pushing the both of you back into the dorm room while the door shut behind you.

The box of chocolates fell from your hands, but it was the least of your concerns when your front was pressed against Sirius’ chest and your faces were centimeters away.

“Oh, um, I—“ you stammered, placing your hands on his chest to gently push him away.

Sirius, on the other hand, had other plans. He wrapped his arms around your waist with a smirk, his eyes flickering down to your lips every few seconds as he spoke. “You know I fancy you, right?” You only nodded at his question, but your flustered expression was enough to encourage him further. “And I fancy you a lot. Like, a lot, darling.”

Your inability to hold eye contact with him may have been embarrassing to you a month ago, but right now in his arms, you could care less. He spoke softly to you, his gaze filled with awe. He made you feel loved, despite all your past thoughts about him and his attempts to get you to go out on a date with him.

Sirius’ voice grew impossibly quieter as he looked into your eyes. “Please tell me you like me, too.”

Looking at his pleading expression and the way his lips just looked a bit too tantalizing with the way he bit it while awaiting your response, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in until your lips collided.

It felt like fireworks, the way his lips moved perfectly with yours. It was like nothing you had ever experienced before. Granted, you were never too occupied when it came to your love life, but Sirius was the best kisser you’d ever come across. His hands were planted on the small of your back, bringing your body even closer to his, and your hands raked through his luscious hair.

Pulling away and ignoring the small complaint that left his lips, you smiled at the boy, “Yes, I like you too, Sirius.”

Despite the fact that you had just kissed him, his eyes still lit up brighter than you had ever seen before. “Really? Are you serious?”

“No,” you laughed, the teasing glint in your eyes telling him exactly what you were about to say next. “You’re Sirius.”

He threw his head back and groaned at the joke, “Merlin, you’re perfect.” And then he pulled you in once more.

The kiss, this time, was more heated, more intense than the first. It was hungrier, with your lips mashing together and your teeth clashing. But it was still filled with love. Filled with the thing Sirius had fought for when he approached you that day in the Great Hall. Filled with the thing he was desperate to gain when he offered you that golden snitch after his Quidditch game. Filled with what he hoped to receive when he bought you that Muggle book you were obsessing over. And most importantly, filled with the very thing that took over when he saw you at the Black Lake, terrified of what would happen if he lost you.

You were both so engrossed in the kiss that you didn’t even notice the door creaking open. James, Remus and Peter peeked through the small crack to find you and Sirius all over each other, your hands tangled in his hair and his hands inching lower.

Remus smirked at the curly-haired boy squatting next to him, holding his hand out with a cocky grin. Annoyed, James pulled ten galleons out of his pocket and begrudgingly placed it into his best friend’s palm, but all three of them knew that no matter who lost the bet and no matter how annoying Sirius would get later on, they were all just happy that you two were happy.

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