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augustinewrites · 7 months ago

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yesterday afternoon - after an unsuccessful coffee shop date - you’d decided that dating sucked. it was much too awkward and formal and not at all like it was in the movies, putting too much pressure on the people involved.

last night - after watching shoko flirt her way into free drinks - you’d been tipsy enough to take her advice.

casual sex! it doesn't have to be with a stranger, just pick someone you know. someone you’re sure you won't fall in love with.

this morning you’d woken up to find gojo laying in bed next to you.

you lay shoulder to shoulder with the one person you should not have picked, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the other person to speak.

“did we really–”

“three times,” satoru confirms happily, rolling onto his side to grin down at you. “i'm surprised we didn't do this sooner, really. our sexual tension has always been off the charts.”

when he leans in to kiss you, his lips meet your palm as your expression wrinkles. “don’t get familiar.”

“we’re naked together in bed– we slept together in more than the literal sense. can’t get more familiar than that.”

“and this never happen again,” you promise, refusing to look at him.

“why? because you’re afraid you’ll fall in love with me? it’s okay to admit it. i'm extremely lovable.”

you’ve seen the way girls fawn over him. how they swoon over his pretty eyes and confident smile. he’s satoru gojo. a legend amongst jujutsu society. you’re no one in comparison, not a user of an otherworldly cursed technique, not from a major clan.

people like him don’t fall for people like you. you’re afraid of rejection, afraid of being hurt.

“we’re friends,” you tell him honestly. “i don’t want to risk ruining our friendship over something like this.”

he tilts his head as your look at him. “shoko told you to try casual sex, didn't she? why not with me?”

“she told you?” you groan, dragging a hand down your face and making a mental note to never ask your roommate for advice for anything ever again.

“hey, look at me,” he urges, grasping your hand. you do as he says, meeting his earnest gaze. “i can be casual and chill, it’s not like i have a huge crush on you or anything.”

it’s so hard to say no to him. you really wish you could.

“i’ll think about it,” you tell him, rolling your eyes when he fist pumps. “but you need to go home before shoko sees you.”

but you’re dealing with satoru gojo, who almost never does what he’s told. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily. come here.”

he winds an arm around you, pulli my you in so you’re snug against his chest. explicit memories of last night flash through your mind, sending heat through your veins.

“i can’t.” you tell him (though you’re mostly reminding yourself.) this is insane— satoru, what are you—”

you’re cut off when he shushes you, whispering let’s sleep in for a little while longer.

he starts to drift off again as you struggle to escape his grasp, but your efforts are futile. even on the throes of sleep, satoru is stronger than you.

so you give up, resigning yourself to a few more minutes of…cuddling. shoko isn’t a morning person anyways.

after a minute, you find it's not entirely awful. it’s a purely physical reaction. gojo is good looking, even with his hair mussed with sleep and his mouth hanging open. because you know that under the softness of his skin lays defined muscle, and spending the morning in his nicely toned arms isn’t the worst thing in the world.

(it’s purely physical, is what your head tries to convince your heart, which is beating a little faster than usual.)

a very soft, content sigh slips past your lips.

then, shoko knocks on your door.

“hey! don’t tell me you’re too hungover for grocery shopping.”

“shit!” you whisper harshly, shoving him away from you. “she cannot see you in here.”

“afraid you’ll have to share?” he teases, narrowly avoiding being hit with a pillow. “okay, okay! where do you want me?”

“closet!” you instruct, scrambling my around the room to make sure none of his clothes are lying around. you thrust them into his hands, pushing him into your closet.

he catches the door before you can close it, smiling down at you. “aren’t you glad we’re doing this?”

you shove him inside, slamming the door shut just ask shoko bursts into the room.

“hey,” you greet, trying your best to appear casual as you lean against the door. your heart beats in your throat, as she squints at you, then lets her gaze sweep across the room.

“did you bring someone home last night?”

“no.”

she looks at you. really looks at you, you think.

“okay,” she finally says, though you can’t tell if she believes you. “i just– i thought i saw you leave with gojo. suguru said you two were flirting all night.”

“gojo and i?” you try to laugh, but it comes out a little strained. “never in a million years.”

shoko only shrugs, and you let yourself relax when she turns to leave…

…only for her to turn around once more, leaning the the doorframe. “well if you really don't like him, just let him down easy, alright? suguru told me he has a huge crush on you.”

wait–

“gojo?”

you hear a sharp inhale through the door.

“yeah,” she nods. “you really couldn't tell?”

gojo…has a crush on you. it takes a few seconds to truly sink in. “i had no idea.”

“of course you didn't. he’s definitely got a really weird way of showing it.”

she turns to leave for real this time, but you wait a couple extra seconds before opening your closet, finding a wide eyed, blushing satoru staring at you.

you can't help but laugh. at his expression, at shoko’s revelation, at this entire situation.

dating sucks, but maybe it won’t be that bad if it’s with him.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff

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rockingbytheseaside · 3 months ago

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Hii!! I love your writing sm like you’re literally my go to blog when I get bored and I end up rereading your fics 😋. Not sure if you have rules or anything so idk what I can and can’t request (IF YOU DO AND THIS ISN’T IN LINE WITH IT I’M SO SORRY.. 😭).

Could I request the harbingers crushing on reader? Like I can imagine them being slightly more lenient with reader which confuses most of the soldiers. Again feel free to ignore this 💗‼️‼️

(giggling and kicking my feet rn, this is the type of partially-satirical fluff I headcanon. Hope you like it)

✦ When they secretly have a crush on you

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe

✧ The ever-cold and impeccable Pierro – a mystery that even his associates and top harbingers cannot decipher. Not many can be considered as his close confidants, so none is certain of his personal life and preferences. A cold, stern man like The Jester probably doesn’t waste a glance on frivolous affairs or pleasantries. Even if many high-status people tried to approach him - aristocrats, business partners, or noble ladies; his cold gaze shuts off any initiation for close relations. No, he sees their greed for power too clearly to be swayed.

Yet Pierro harbors a deep secret. He does fancy a type… and that type is you.

It’s not simply your physical attributes or style, his ‘type’ is literally everything you embody. The shape of your jawline when you lower your face, the delicate shadow your eyelashes cast on your cheeks, how your chest moves when you take a deep sigh. From the minor and inconsequential attributes, he memorized it to his heart until the only thing his gaze is seeking is you across the room. He was always silently enamored, his eyes watching you with reverence. However, he is a mastermind, first and foremost. Concealing his inner sonnets for his love for you came naturally just as he conceals half of his face with a Khaenri’ahn mask.

You, on the other hand, were oblivious. Nervous, even. Facing off the most powerful man, cursed with immortality just as you all those centuries felt intimidating, especially when you couldn’t grasp why his gaze kept lingering so melancholically.

“It is… good to see you again, Pierro,” – that was your initial words when the two of you spoke formally. In truth, your mind was filled with wistful thoughts: he probably settled down with someone after 500 years of immortality.

In the meantime, Pierro’s mind was at comical odds with his cold exterior as he thought: Hmmm… Yes, I’ve already decided on the name of our potential third child.

But of course, he didn’t say that, even if he looked slightly mesmerized. Instead, he just settled with a polite: “A pleasure, indeed”. It's only a matter of time before he accidentally slips and calls you his spouse in front of people.

✧ Il Capitano was avoiding you like the plague, and you couldn't fathom why. Whenever you crossed paths, his oppressive silence would intimidate you further. He would linger behind you, a looming presence so quiet that at times, you’d forget he was even there. Alas, when you finally muster up the courage to approach him directly, he'd respond with the briefest of words, avoiding any attempts of chatter.

It infuriated you. So much so that you started wondering if perhaps you did something wrong. He sparred with you countless times, the taste of a battlefield is nothing foreign when he trained alongside you. You felt like a stranger. Why he was so eerily silent was beyond your comprehension, and alas, his pitch-black expression did not portray any facial clues on what he was thinking.

The truth of the matter is that Capitano has mastered the art of keeping his head impassively still. With a helmet on his face and lack of visage, no one sees his gaze ogling your form whenever you train. Your movements mesmerize him during battles, your legs swift and your stance is powerful. Of course, he would be silent when he is staring directly at your beauty in action. You rendered him speechless, and now the Harbinger is diverting himself by discreetly peeking at you. Thank the archons for his helmet hiding his gaze.

But the Captain scolds himself. No, he mustn’t! It is improper of him to even lay his eyes upon a being so diligent and strong as you, he must respect-… Nope, his head is automatically turning towards you anyway. Lost in his silent battle of self-reprimand, he didn’t notice you suddenly approaching:

“Captain, we need to talk. What is the reason for your cold shoulder towards me? If I have done something improper you must tell me… You always avoid me, even when we’re supposed to cooperate.”

The same characteristic silence followed him, however, seeing you cornering him so sternly, even the Harbinger had to drop his resolve.

“...You must forgive me. Your beauty had overwhelmed me to such an extent that I felt ashamed to admit how you rendered me speechless to approach you.”

✧ A long time ago, before Il Dottore bore the title of a Harbinger, there was a young boy named Zandik. This little Zandik was trainee Dastur, a prodigy of his field and academic year. But he wasn't the only top student of the Akademiya, in fact, this young man was standing in the shadow of a brilliant senior student whom he always looked up to with innocent wonder – you.

You weren't aware of the younger student with short turquoise hair trailing you. He, however, was aware of you because your portrait often graced the accomplishments of the establishment, thesis research, and any academic honors of the top young researchers. Since you were a senior, Zandik couldn’t share lectures with you, yet it didn’t stall him. Every thesis bearing your name, he read; every book you borrowed from the House of Daena, he memorized meticulously. His revenant studies of everything you did mesmerized his young mind, leading him to linger behind the lecture hall doors, drawn to where you so often spent your time.

It was a harmless habit, the boy believed; surely you never noticed him?

One day, Zandik spotted you chatting with your peers in the hallway. Unfortunately for you, you inadvertently left behind your precious notebook, forgotten in the rush to your next class. The young man didn't have it in himself to run after you and directly return it. Instead, it was his chance to study your secrets. His hands hesitated only briefly before he grasped the notebook, feeling the weight of the handwriting he so admired.

When he first opened the notebook, the first page read in massive writing: “I KNOW YOU'RE STEALING MY NOTES – THIEF.”

That was approximately 400 years ago. So much so that the memories of your student self were long forgotten in your mind. When you later on met the 2nd of the Fatui Harbinger, you expected the Fatuus to coerce you for cooperation. To demand you to leverage your expertise in Khaenri'ahn technology, or perhaps blackmail you into his maddening cause. But none of that transpired.

The grown man, now known as Il Dottore, stood blankly in front of you, eerily placid. His once youthful awe had matured into something far more inscrutable, like a long-buried sincerity breaking through his Doctor’s mask. Without a word, he extended a hand, offering you an old, tattered notebook. It was that same old notebook from your Akademiya days.

“... Huh? Where did you get this?”

“Perhaps a young boy was too excited to pilfer what wasn't his. I apologize for borrowing it. That boy never wanted his idol to think of him as a thief. If it wasn't so arduous to seek you out all those centuries, I would've returned it to you earlier.”

✧ With his face perched on his knuckles, Scaramouche sat down listening to your ramblings. You would think a Harbinger with his temper, would long since exhausted his patience, waving you off to scram from his presence. Yet the moment you start talking, he is obediently listening, like a devoted man waiting for his blessing from the Grand Narukami Shrine

“But I never saw you enjoy any snacks or drinks while you’re out,” – you mused with excitement, launching on a tangent about this mysterious Inazuman beside you. “Oh! How about this, I’ll start guessing your favorite pastime food or beverage and you tell me if I am right or wrong.”

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow, but crossed his arms indifferently - “A futile endeavor but suit yourself anyway.”

Undeterred, you accepted the challenge. You listed each and every single delicacy in Teyvat that you could recall, from Inazuman mochi, dango, and sake to even Mondstadt’s Cold Cut Platter and wine. The Balladeer only scoffed, amused at your silly attempts to deduce him, as if he was some mystery you should decipher.

“Ugh, Okay! My last attempt. Is it… green tea?!”

Scaramouche went silent at the sight of your anticipation - “Hm,”

“No way… did I guess correctly, at last! Are you a herbal tea enthusiast? Oh, I knew it, I knew it!”

You exclaimed with unattained joy, leaving the Balladeer to silently observe your self-proclaimed victory. The truth of the matter is - that wasn't the correct answer. Scaramouche doesn't care for any teas or snacks, not when his artificial palettes found human indulgences to be redundant. Yet, looking at your jubilant face, glowing with delight as if you’d uncovered some profound world secrets, he couldn’t bring himself to confess. How foolish.

“Hah, fine, you got me. You must be thrilled to guess something so mundane.”

“Well, maybe mundane to you, but I was pretty curious what a living puppet would prefer to drink.”

Your sudden words caused Scaramouche to freeze. He never told you he was a puppet by nature, and most people would never guess what he is. Yet here you were, stating it so simply and obviously. Most ridiculously, you didn’t seem crestfallen by the weight of this truth. “You knew…? I'm not sure if I should compliment your keen observation, or if this is another one of your random guesses. What gave it away?”

“I thought it was obvious.” - you eased a sincere smile, your hand reaching to carefully brush a stray hair on his head. “No regular human would have such a perfectly pristine face like yours. Even if they had the most luxurious face-care routine.”

If puppets had blood flow, there would've been a pink hue dusting his cheeks. It seems he was the fool here after all. Ever since that day, he has found the taste of green tea to be rather soothing.

✧ A popular misconception about Pantalone is that he allowed you to walk into his life and pursue him so easily. Trully wrong. In reality, it was this Harbinger who had been pursuing and courting you from the very beginning - like a lovestruck fool, no less.

At first, Pantalone tried to be the charmer. He’d offer you heavy bags of Mora as if it was pocket change and say in his best alluring voice - “Go spoil yourself with something new, dear. I want you to look your best on our next date.”

The issue was you were dense like a rock. Because you blinked at the mora and said simply: “Why? I already have comfortable clothes, I don’t need any right now.”

He wanted to slap himself. Any attempts at spoiling you with riches or gifts were futile, especially when you humbly rejected his monetary help out of casual practicality. You always stated that others in need would require it more. Very well, he won’t sulk just yet. He decided on his next act of refinement. He’d invite you with him to any luxurious events: galas, opera performances, dinner parties; all carefully orchestrated to impress you, showcasing how he can provide you with any wonder from the world, linking his arm elegantly with yours to flaunt how you’re accompanying the 9th of Fatui Harbingers himself.

That didn’t work as well. Whenever a business meeting occurred with vital connections, your gaze bore no interest in the wealth of the higher class, nor did you beat around the bush to dismiss yourself. Instead of marveling at the company of riches and endless champagne flutes, he’d instead find you marveling at the ducks swimming in the pond of a garden – “Look, duckies!”

Pantalone was in visible distress. All this gold that people die for yet you so naively dismissed him. Was he unworthy of your simple love? Was he too pompous for you and forgot his own origins? His self-doubt gnawed at him at night, so much so that his own subordinate would see him pacing in his office with a tremor of restlessness, thinking how he should open this topic with one he so openly treasures.

“My dear, please tell me what your heart seeks,” – he once opened the discussion with you, his hand clasping yours in an act of pleading. “I do not wish you to be uncomfortable with my actions. Just say the word and I will bring you what you want.”

Once more, you blinked at him in that same sweet innocence, but instead, you spoke with a smile: “Oh, you silly, silly man Pantalone. I never wanted your mora or status. I do not wish to be indebted to you, no. I just wish you to be as you are. If you want to take me to a restaurant, take me there, not because it’s a fancy establishment, but because it has your favorite food. Plain and simple.”

The young Harbinger didn’t know it was possible to fall in love even more. It seems he mistook your humble sincerity with naivety, never once pondering that perhaps you didn’t want a partner for the sake of connection or money. That being his true self was something he could even offer you.

In the upcoming days, Pantalone’s subordinate could clearly see was smitten beyond logic or reason. Like a grinning child, resting his chin on his palm when sitting behind a desk, feet almost kicking with excitement. He really was enamored with you from the start.

✧ If there is one thing Tartaglia’s heart relishes, it’s the rush of a challenge. And you, as a whole, challenged this young man on a daily basis. His bubbling persona and eccentricity to rush into action was an antithesis to your blunt calmness and reason. If he is the one launching into battle, you are the one who is yanking him by the collar while maintaining that unimpressed look.

Thus, as a challenge, Childe took it upon himself to make you break that serene attitude from you. At least once, and his heart will soar with victory. Unbeknownst to him, everything he did fumbled.

He started with cheesy attempts to flirt with you, flipping his ginger hair back while leaning on the wall with a captivating smile to make sure your eyes were on his form alone. It might have made you swoon, if he hadn’t miscalculated and leaned against the door instead, stumbling awkwardly when it swung open.

Another attempt was made when he tried to play the savior. The two of you were strolling when a Hydro Hilichurl Rogue stumbled upon your path in the wild, its makeshift scythe warning you two to get away. For the Harbinger, this was an easy opportunity to dispel such a puny target and save you. Except the Hilichurl Rogue kept throwing hydro slimes, which his vision of the same element was useless against. You managed to drag Tartaglia (almost) unscathed.

Everything was going against Tartaglia’s luck and he felt like an utter failure in front of you. He’s the 11th, for crying out loud, he always fairs well when something challenges him. Yet here he is, getting bandaged by you after fumbling countless times in your presence. Your first impression of him must be beyond salvageable at this point.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you’re a problematic teen who gets into trouble all the time. Because you sure act like it,” – you stated to him simply. Securing his cuts and bruises on his shoulder.

“If I confess that such accidents rarely happen, would that change your opinion of me, or is it too late to start from zero? Ouch-” he winced when you tightened the bandages, his bruises not alleviating the sensation. The culpability of it all made him sulk, realizing he was probably putting you into trouble with all his shenanigans. “I’d die for you, you know.”

“That is the dumbest thing I've heard.”

Your words were concrete, his gaze averted with guilt and sorrow. But you continued quaintly.

“Why would anyone say something so senseless? I don’t want you to ‘die’ for me or anyone, even. What about ‘keep living’ for someone? For me… for your family, for yourself. Anyone can blindly plunge themselves to their death, but it takes actual courage and strength to keep living for those you care about. So please, do that for me instead of getting into trouble.”

The once serious expression on Tartaglia's softened with each word you spoke. Now he realizes that perhaps you putting up with his impulsivity stemmed not from frustration, but out of sincere worry. Maybe in his attempt to charm you, you were the one charming him all along. Especially when you sit so close to tend to him, it would feel so natural to wrap his arm around and embrace you.

“You’re right… I suppose it is reckless. Living for yourself seems truly priceless if it means seeing you beside me for another day.”

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mrsbarnesblog · 4 months ago

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I always get what I want

masterlist

requests are open

summary: when you're not in the mood to go out of the house, you find a way to change Rafe's mind

words count: 1.8k

warnings: smut, established relationship, unprotected p in v, one use of a word 'slut', spanking, hair pulling, slightly mean Rafe

a/n: for anyone wondering how the said dress looks like

“I’m not in the mood to go out today, Ray. Why can’t we just stay home, hm?” You yawned, stretching your body on the king-sized bed and then turning around to look at your boyfriend.

“It’s just a dinner and everyone is going to be there. I already promised that we’re attending, baby.” He crossed his arms over his chest, immediately drawing your attention to his tanned biceps and the way his fitted shirt stretched around them. “C’mon, get up.”

“But you didn’t even ask me about—No-o-o!” You whined when Rafe’s hands wrapped around your legs, dragging you out of bed. As he playfully patted your ass and manhandled you into standing, you gave him a furious glare. “Fine, asshole. I will get dressed.” You pushed past your boyfriend, already knowing one trick that will send him over the edge and that will guarantee you a quiet and peaceful evening.

“Mhm, find something cute, but don’t take too long, ‘kay?” You rolled your eyes, going into the wardrobe attached to your bedroom.

You had never dressed quicker, and when after a few minutes Rafe heard you going back into the room with your heels clicking on the wooden floor, he was ready to joke about it, until he looked up from his phone and saw what exactly you were wearing.

It was probably the shortest black lace dress in existence, which barely even covered your ass cheeks and had a slid from both sides of your legs as if there were something more to show. Rafe’s eyes slowly went up, only a few seconds later noticing that besides the “dress” itself, you wore only thongs, which meant that your tits were basically on full display.

You bought it just for fun, for a few dollars during one of your shopping sprees, hoping to surprise Rafe with it, but it turned out even better than you imagined. He was speechless, to say the least.

“You are not fucking wearing it.” He jumped up from the bed, looking down at you with wide eyes. You tried to hold back a smile. Rafe was so predictable and you loved every second of it.

“Why not? It’s cute and goes perfectly with my heels. Give me like fifteen minutes to do my makeup and we can go.” You turned around but Rafe quickly caught you by the wrist and pulled you back to face him.

"You know I like your short skirts and sexy dresses, but I will not let you go out looking like that. Your whole ass is out and I can literally see your tits.” Rafe looked you up and down again; his eyes were full of hunger mixed with his usual grumpiness whenever you didn’t listen to him.

“Stop saying what I can and cannot wear, Rafey. I always get what I want. And I hate when you think that you can boss me around. I am wearing it, whether you like it or not. You asked me to go somewhere at the last minute, and this is the only outfit I have not worn yet, so don’t complain." Giving his cheek a soft pat, you headed to your vanity, but was again dragged back, but this time it was different.

Your back hit Rafe’s chest. One of his arms found its place on your stomach and the other one took a gentle yet firm hold of your throat. Your breath hitched when you felt a growing bulge pressing against your ass, and Rafe began pushing you toward the bed.

“Always have to be so fucking stubborn.” He mumbled as he bent you over, shamelessly pushing your face into the soft blanket, making you stay in a not-so-comfortable position with your ass up and still in your heels.

“My heels. Take it off.” You whined, not even trying to fight your boyfriend back.

“If you decided to play on my nerves today, then you’ll be good just like that, babe.” Rafe suddenly slapped your ass, making you hiss and twitch forward. Because of your position, the hem of your dress slipped even higher, leaving nothing for the imagination.

Rafe licked his lips, soothing the irritated skin of your ass and enjoying the beautiful view in front of him. With the dinner long forgotten, he was completely focused on you and painfully hard in his jeans. While his left hand still stayed on your lower back to keep you in place, he pushed your legs wider away from each other and took off a skimpy piece of fabric that you called underwear.

You moaned as the chill air of the room touched your bare skin, subconsciously moving your hips back to feel Rafe’s touch. He chuckled as he quickly undid his pants and shoved them down his thighs, revealing his already hard cock.

“Why can’t you just listen to me, hm? You are insane to even try to go out in that pathetic excuse of a dress." Rafe mumbled, more as if he were talking to himself, too focused on looking at the way his tip was sliding up and down your pussy, already glistering with your juices. “Don’t get me wrong, you definitely can wear it around the house; I won’t mind. But just for my eyes only.”

As much as you tried to concentrate on Rafe’s words, it was hard to do so when he slowly sank into you, making you whine and grip the fabric under your hands. He rarely did it without giving you a proper preparation with his fingers or mouth, but it was his way of showing you that he wasn’t happy with your behaviour. Rafe gave your ass another slap, before reaching his hand to gently grab your hair and yank your head back.

“Pay attention to what I'm saying, baby.” You were stretched to the limit, still sensitive to the size of him every time you two had sex. Rafe set a steady pace, fucking you like he did whenever he was pissed off—fast, deep and rough. “You’re mine to look at. So, you better save that little thing for when I get home from work, do you understand?"

Your eyes rolled back in your head as whimpers slipped past your lips with every push of Rafe’s cock in your tight cunt. He gripped the hair in his hand a little tighter, still waiting for an answer from you and you had no choice but to try to nod and mumble something incoherent.

When two fingers of Rafe’s free hand suddenly pressed on your clit and started moving in a circular motion, your hips jerked forward, squeezing him inside of you even harder. If Rafe knew one thing for sure, it was how your body worked and all the little tricks that made you see stars. He held you firmly in place, feeding his cock to your hungry pussy and not caring about you trying to get away from the overstimulation.

“Don’t fuckin’ move or I’ll edge you till you cry. Don’t want to do that again, do you?” Rafe mumbled, effortlessly sliding his cock deeper into you, noticing the way your ass was jiggling with every deep thrust. He felt your wetness spreading on his fingers and sliding down your thighs, probably making a mess on his clothes too.

“That’s too much— Rafe, Rafe, Ra-afe!” You cried out loud as he pushed your head backwards more to have a look at your face. That famous smirk appeared at the sight of your fucked out face with tears in your eyes and swollen lips.

“If you want to dress like a slut, you’re gonna be treated like one.” He spat, then finally released your hair, instead pushing your head into the bed.

It felt like Rafe’s cock was now even deeper, and the pace that he was using was too hard to handle. You whined his name, fisting the blanket and crying in ecstasy at his magical work with your pussy.

“That’s right.” His praise came with a hard slap on your ass. “Same my name when you cum on my dick.”

“Rafe! Oh god, Rafe! D-don’t stop!” He didn’t stop abusing your hole even when you reached your orgasm. Neither when your body literally started shaking from overstimulation and you were begging to let you go.

It didn’t take him long to get to an end, suddenly pulling out of you and spilling his hot cum all over your ass and lower back. “Fuck, yeah! Lookin’ so pretty covered in me.” Rafe chuckled, gripping your ass cheeks and shamelessly looking as his release was sliding down to your flattering pussy. “Sorry, sweetheart. I guess I stained your dress and panties too.” He made a fake pout, moving away from you to admire his work from afar.

“Asshole.” You grumbled, fully falling on your bed and hissing at the pain in your legs. Your eyes were closed, enjoying the tingles that still went through your body when you felt Rafe wiping a mess from your skin and then kneeling on the floor to take off your shoes.

You looked at him when you felt bed moving under his weight. Rafe drew you closer with a smirk, resting your head on his naked chest. You smirked at him, and he raised an eyebrow at the strange sparkle in your eyes.

“Whatcha smiling for, hm?” His hand sneaked down your back, reaching the irritated skin that he slapped multiple times, and gently rubbed to soothe the redness.

“I always do and get what I want, Ray.” You giggled, tracing lines on his abs.

“Well, not today, apparently.”

"Oh, baby, you are so naive to believe I was planning to attend the dinner in the first place." You bit your lip, holding back a smile at the confused look on your boyfriend’s face. “All I had to do was make you think with your dick and now we’re staying at home. Just like I wanted to.”

He shook his head in disbelief, with a smirk and tongue poking his cheek. “You’re such a brat.” A squeak escaped from you when your body suddenly changed positions and was pushed back on the bed as Rafe hovered over you. “Get ready for round two since you wanted to be so goddamn smart.”

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katsu28 · 7 months ago

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home is wherever you are

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: secretly falling in love with your best friend is tough. secretly falling in love with your best friend who also happens to be your roommate is even less than ideal. the solution? move out! (hint: it isn’t a very good one.) (5k)

warnings: angst with a happy ending, a smidge of google translated french lol

a/n: CHARLES LECLERC!!! CHARLES LECLERC!!!!LECLERC!!! LECLERAUGHCOUGHCOUGH

“I still cannot believe you’re abandoning me.”

Charles shoved another box of your things into the boot of your car rather huffily, as if to reiterate just how unhappy he was.

“I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving out of your apartment.” You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully at him. You passed him the last box off the ground, wiping your hands off on your shorts before propping them on your hips.

“That is quite literally the same thing.” He mirrored your stance in total seriousness, frown unwavering. “And it’s not my apartment, it’s yours now too. Your home.”

You’d been living with Charles for a while now, having been suddenly evicted from your own place three, almost four years ago. With nowhere else to go, you’d turned to your best friend, and Charles had welcomed you with open arms, giving you a home when you’d needed it most.

There were many good things about living with Charles—he liked to cook (which boded well with you, seeing as you were no master chef yourself. Except for when he’d gone through a questionable phase of combining cuisines that did not go well together.), he was respectful of set boundaries and agreed upon rules. You had the same taste in shows and movies, which made for little fighting when it came to deciding on what to watch.

But most notably, he loved to play the piano. It was a hobby he’d picked up during long days spent staying at home, and he was good at it too. An electronic keyboard when he’d first started out, just to see if it was something he was serious about, but as he zoomed through the basics with ease, he’d splurged on a gorgeous white piano that stood proudly in the living room.

Soon enough, it wasn’t unusual for the apartment to be full of music, beautiful songs of Charles’ own composing.

He played whenever he had the feeling. Whenever he had something on his mind, whenever he was bored, anything, he’d spend hours at the piano, playing, playing, playing. Some might’ve called it annoying, but not you. You found it rather soothing.

It had very quickly become a habit of yours to fall asleep listening to Charles play. Something about it seemed to always relax you just enough to the point where you could pretty much fall asleep anywhere if he was at the bench.

Your favorite spot was on the sofa with a big blanket, watching him get lost in the notes until you drifted off. More often than not, you could rarely get a good night’s sleep without Charles’ accompaniment—your very own version of white noise.

But truth be told, this past year of living together with Charles had been trickier than the first couple. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment things began to change, but something had definitely shifted between you.

You’d been trying to write it off just the two of you being very close, but you’d been dancing on the line of close friends and more than friends for a long time. Falling asleep together cuddled on the sofa, lingering touches whilst you were in the same room and in passing, hugs that lasted a little too long to be considered normal.

The more your feelings for Charles grew, the more worried you became. Worried about what, you weren’t exactly sure. All you knew was you didn’t want to lose the longest and best friendship you’d ever had because you went and fell in love.

“I know. But I think it’s well past time I get out of your hair and try being on my own for once.” You said softly, stepping in to fold yourself into Charles’ arms.

Most of that was true. You did feel like you needed to live by yourself for a chance, to see what it was like to be fully independent in your adult life. You’d moved in with Charles when you were twenty two, and you were twenty five now. It was time for you to venture out on your own.

But the uncertainty of falling in love with your best friend was definitely also a contributing factor.

He made a displeased sound at your words, but tucked you under his chin nonetheless. “I don’t want you to get out of my hair. My hair likes it with you here.”

“I live fifteen minutes away, Cha. I’m not moving across the country. You and your hair can come over anytime.” You scoffed, giving him a gentle poke in the ribs. “And I’ll come over here all the time too, you know that.”

“Fine, fine. I don’t know what I am supposed to do with your empty room now, but I’ll figure it out. Maybe I will take up scrapbooking. Knitting. Needlepoint, maybe. Turn it into a craft room.”

“Maybe you can turn it into a music room. Move the keyboard in there, your piano.”

“Ah, bien entendu, my piano. How will you ever fall asleep without my sweet, sweet melodies?”

“I think I will manage just fine.” You chuckled.

Charles held you at arms’ length, dark brows furrowing as he scowled. “What I’m hearing is you don’t love me anymore.”

Oh, if only he knew.

You smiled instead, patting his cheek good-naturedly. “Come on, you drama queen. I want to move in before the sun goes down.”

Charles went full protection mode the second all your belongings had made it safely inside the apartment, intently checking every lock, window, door hinge, cabinet—not an inch of the apartment went uninspected by him. When he seemed fairly satisfied with his safety checks, he returned to where you were unpacking kitchen items over by the oven.

“Everything up to your standards?” You asked, pulling out a stack of plates wrapped in brown paper. Charles shuffled over, easing them out of your hands and unwrapping them to help put them up in the cabinet. “No one is going to break in through my window tonight?”

“Don’t even joke about that.” He grumbled, chucking the balled up paper at you gently. “Everything I checked is fine. You will be safe here.”

Food was simple when it came time for dinner—takeout on the floor of your living room, because you hadn’t had the time to go shopping for a coffee table yet. Or a dining room table. Or even chairs, really. All you had were some pillows and an overturned cardboard box to put the food on.

Charles had insisted on helping you furnish the whole place before you moved in but you’d declined, saying that you wanted to get a feel for the place before filling it with everything. The last time it would be this empty would be the day you moved out.

He seemed a little quiet the rest of the night, but you didn’t press it until after dinner, whilst he was helping you with the washing up. Well, helping was a strong word.

“You’ve been drying that plate for ages now.” You observed, tilting your head at him thoughtfully. Charles inhaled sharply, shaking his head like he’d been snapped out of a stupor. He glanced down at the completely dry plate, then back up at you blankly. “What’re you thinking about?”

“You’re really going to be gone.”

“You say that like I told you I’ve only got days to live. I won’t be gone, Cha. I’ll be around.” You chuckled, flicking dish soap bubbles in his direction. Charles responded by flinging his towel at you, cracking a smile. You liked it when he smiled, hated it when he frowned. He was still unfairly attractive, but it wasn’t Charles’ scowl that made you fall in love with him.

“We can spend the day together anytime, you can come over whenever you want, and if it makes you feel any better, I will give you your very own key.”

That seemed to put him a little more in higher spirits.

“What will you ever do without me?” He wondered out loud, feigning a thoughtful expression.

“Probably clean up a lot less. Be able to take a shower without running out of hot water halfway through. Oh! Have a bottle of shampoo last more than a month because someone—not naming names, of course, won’t use it because they’ve run out of theirs. Not have to fight for—”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” Charles huffed, grabbing you by the shoulders and promptly shoving your face into his chest to stop you from talking.

You grinned against the softness of his hoodie. “Shall I go on?”

“No, no you shouldn’t.” His hold on you loosened, but you stayed right where you were, wrapping your arms around his torso. “Just admit it. You’ll miss me.”

“I will miss you.” You said softly, pressing your cheek into the crook of his neck. If there was something Charles was unbelievably good at (besides literally anything he’d ever tried), it was giving the best hugs. Something about them made you feel safe, like nothing and nobody could ever hurt you as long as you were in his arms.

“You already know how much I’m going to miss having you around.”

“Yeah, I am pretty great.”

A laugh rumbled through his chest. “You are.”

“You’ve been the best roommate I could’ve asked for. Thank you for everything.” Your words were muffled between the two of you, and you were glad for it, because he didn’t seem to notice the waver in your tone. But he did squeeze you a little tighter, so maybe he did hear you. “I love you, Cha.”

Charles’ voice seemed to waver just a bit too. “I love you too.”

“Okay, okay, you really need to leave. Go before I change my mind and make you stay.” You blurted, pushing him away playfully. It was better than letting him see you get emotional.

“Is that a promise?”

“No, it’s a threat. Go home. I will see you soon.” You gave his hand one last squeeze, nodding reassuringly to rid him of the crease between his brows. “Don’t worry about me. Go, get some rest.”

It was only then that he seemed satisfied enough to leave, but even then, he cast another backwards glance towards you on his way down the hall, as if he was waiting for you to beckon him back. You just smiled as best you could.

You’d get over it. You had to. There was still a lot you needed to get done before you called it a night.

It wasn’t until you were getting ready to go to bed that you started to feel lonely. You and Charles had your respective bedtime routines, but they always intertwined.

You never liked being the one to turn off all the lights in the apartment because the switch was at the end of the hallway opposite from your bedrooms, so he knew to do it because you hated running back through the darkness after flipping the switch.

He always filled a glass with water for late night sipping, but never remembered to actually bring it to his room until he was already in bed, so you always grabbed it for him so he wouldn’t have to make the trek back out the kitchen.

The bathroom counter was where you’d find each other the most, terrible jokes and funny stories told muffled through toothpaste bubbles, even though you could’ve just waited until you were finished to tell each other. You’d flick water at him as you washed your face because he took up too much space at the sink, he’d turn off the tap in retaliation, things like that.

Sometimes Charles would stay up later playing video games with his friends, or take some extra time to practice piano, so you wouldn’t get to do your well oiled machine routine, but he’d always take the extra second to pop into your room to say goodnight when he heard you bustling around, even if he was in the middle of something.

The times you fell asleep on the sofa to Charles’ playing the piano, he’d camp out at the other end of the sofa for the night, or at the very least made sure you were covered with a blanket if he went to sleep in his own room.

It was something you’d grown accustomed to over the years, oftentimes the well-needed end to a not so great day. Charles never failed to put a smile on your face, even with something as small and mundane as a bedtime routine.

But there was none of that as you ran through your routine this time.

You didn’t hear him shuffling around over in the other room, the muffled sounds of his shouts as he played his games, and most of all, you didn’t hear him and his piano.

Because there was no Charles. Of course there wasn’t. You were in this new place that you hadn’t had quite nearly enough of a chance to get used to yet, alone, and it was finally settling in.

Suddenly moving out and away from him seemed like the worst decision in the world.

You knew it was only the first night. You had to give yourself a chance to reacclimate, and that would take time. So you inhaled a deep breath, trying to get as comfy as you could for a long, probably sleepless night ahead.

It was nearing four in the morning when you finally decided to give up and call Charles. Part of you thought he might not even pick up the phone, because he was probably asleep. Any sane person would be sleeping right now.

Much to your surprise, he answered on the second ring.

“Why are you awake?” You asked, maybe a bit harshly.

“Um, you are the one who called me? Why are you awake?” He replied, groggy voice still teasing. His accent always grew thicker when he was sleepy. You thought it was adorable. “You cannot sleep, can you?”

“...No.” Your voice grew smaller. You felt embarrassed at the fact that you couldn’t even make it one full night without Charles around. “I just…I wanted to hear your voice, I guess. I miss you already, Cha.”

Charles fell silent for a few moments, the only sound on his side of the line being his gentle exhales. “I miss you too. Do you want me to come over? I can stay the night, if you want.”

“No. No, you don’t need to do that.” You said softly. “Can you just talk to me?”

This was also something that had become somewhat of a ritual when either of you couldn’t sleep.

You’d tiptoe into each other’s rooms quiet as a mouse, slipping into bed beside the other. Charles always stirred when he felt the bed dip under your weight, half asleep but still reaching out to pull you against his chest like it was second nature. On the occasions when he came into your room, you’d feel him tuck himself close to you, nosing against any part of you he could find with a content sigh.

There was no rhyme or reason to the things you’d talk about in those moments, but eventually, somehow, you’d both end up asleep, usually fairly quickly. Maybe it was the extra added comfort of each other that helped, you could never tell.

It wasn’t unusual to wake up a jumble of limbs tangled together, and neither of you ever addressed it either. Just went on with your business as usual, never talking about it because it was just something you did. To help each other sleep, of course.

Another thing that really blurred the line between friends and more.

Charles hummed a noncommittal sound, soft and fond like he always was around you. “I’ll do you one better. How about I play some music for you?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.” You sighed, relieved. He knew what you needed without you even having to ask.

You heard him get up, footsteps padding along until there was a thud and some shuffling coming from Charles’ side. A few warm up scales in and you were already feeling a little less anxious, letting yourself get comfortable.

“Any requests from the audience?”

“Been working on anything new?” You yawned, nuzzling a little deeper back into your pillow.

“I have, actually. It’s still—fuck, how do you say it…a work in progress?”

“Anything you play is perfect.”

“You flatter me.” He snorted. “Alright, here goes nothing.”

He began to play. You knew jack shit about music, so there wasn’t much you could think of to describe how it sounded, but you could describe how it felt. You could almost feel the emotion pouring from his playing, even through the scratchy quality of the speaker.

It felt like something you’d hear in the background of a movie montage, lilting and delicate and warm notes swirling together to create a bright melody, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

Memories of good times with Charles flashed through your head—all the long days and even longer nights you’d spent together because you thrived in each other’s company, cooking together, binging Netflix shows until you both passed out on the sofa.

Hushed laughing during dinners at fancy restaurants that Charles could get into by flashing his name, soft conversations accompanied with expensive food and even more expensive wine.

Day trips up the coast with the top down on the car, pushing the speed limit just to feel an ounce of the freedom that it could give you. Walking through Monte Carlo on late night gelato runs, switching flavors because you both enjoyed each other’s choice more than your own.

Most of all, you thought of the love you felt for Charles, ever since you’d first met him. You’d never been one to believe in the concept of soulmates, but fuck, it was so easy to think of him as yours. Never had you felt as much for someone as you did for him.

God, why were you even thinking of those things?

It would never happen. Any love that Charles had for you would be strictly platonic, limited to however much one could love their best friend.

Surely he’d drawn inspiration from something else when he’d composed the beautiful piece. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know.

Soon enough, you’d drifted off like you always did when Charles played, coincidentally right before he came to a lingering stop.

Had you been awake, you would’ve heard him say that the beautiful piece had been inspired by you. Instead you were fast asleep, still none the wiser to anything. Maybe it was a good thing. You might not have believed it if you’d heard him.

-------

Charles was on your doorstep first thing in the morning, coffee and pastries in hand when you opened the door for him.

“Hello, good morning, your savior is here. And with breakfast!” He chirped, coming to just enough of a halt for you to slide an arm around his shoulders in a hug and grab one of the drinks out of the tray before he swept past you.

Bright morning sunlight poured into the open area, washing the whole place aglow. A warm breeze floated in through the ajar window, rattling the shutters only slightly, and you could hear the all too familiar sounds of the city in the morning coming from the streets below. It was a gorgeous picture of peace; one of the apartment’s many fun quirks that convinced you to go for it in the first place.

The only thing that might’ve rivaled the beauty of the moment was Charles standing at the window, leaning against the sill drinking his coffee while the breeze ruffled his hair. His back was to you as he checked out the view, but even the mere image of him here was nice.

You sipped your own coffee, smiling to yourself when you realized Charles remembered exactly how you took it. You didn’t even need to look inside the bag to know they were your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street from your former apartment that both you and Charles loved. He was always thoughtful like that. Things like remembering your favorite foods and drinks, and going out of his way to get them as a little pick-me-up.

It seemed wrong to ruin the moment, but you felt like you had to say something.

“I’m sorry for waking you up last night.” You sighed, taking a cross-legged seat on a pillow.

Charles turned away from the window, shaking his head quickly. He took a seat on the floor next to you, long legs stretching out towards your crossed ones to nudge a sneaker against your socked foot. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’m glad you called me.”

“Right, but it’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? First time on my own and I didn’t even last a whole night.”

“Not pathetic.” He insisted, entirely firm in his words. He set his cup down as if it could strengthen his point. “It is a change, definitely. You can’t expect yourself to get used to such a big change immediately. It takes time, you know.”

You messed with the lid of your cup, picking at the plastic with a scowl. “I know. But I can’t always come running to you whenever I need help. It’s not fair to you to have to keep rescuing me every time I need saving.”

“Okay…” He trailed off, stretching out the last syllable in confusion. “I feel this is about something more than just last night. We can talk about it, if you would like?”

“I don’t know what it is.” You huffed. “I thought I was ready to be on my own, but maybe I’m not. Maybe I don’t know I’m doing and I’ll never figure it out, and—”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down. Where is this all coming from?”

“I don’t know,” You repeated, bordering on a whine. “But what I do know is that I can’t always keep relying on you for everything. It’s not good for me, or for you.”

“You know, you could always just move back home if you’re truly not ready to do things on your own.” Charles offered, taking a casual sip of his own drink.

Home. He said it so casually, like home was with him instead of this new place you’d chosen to make yours. In a way, Charles was your home. Safety, comfort, love—all the things that made something home, you felt with him.

That was the problem. You didn’t feel right relying on him for all those things, not without him being aware of how you actually felt about him. It seemed like too much of a burden to put on a friend, even one as perfect as Charles.

His eyes met yours over the rim and he shrugged. “I still don’t know why you were so insistent on moving out in the first place.”

You sighed, again. There weren’t many ways you could make yourself any clearer. Other than telling Charles one of the real reasons why you had to leave, which again, was more of a last resort (hopefully not at all) type of thing. “It was time—”

“It was time for you to venture out on your own, yes, I know. But it doesn’t seem to be working out so well right now, does it not?” The last sentence seemed to slip out of Charles’ mouth before he knew what he was saying, because his mouth snapped shut right afterward. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I don’t want to argue.”

But what had been done was done, what had been said was out there for you to know. Your coffee suddenly left a bitter taste in your mouth, and the traffic from outside became glaringly loud. The once peaceful atmosphere had been shattered now that you knew Charles’ true thoughts on it all.

You stood up, letting your feet take you across the room from him. “No. Tell me more, Charles. Tell me how you really feel.”

His nose wrinkled at the use of his full name. You never called him Charles unless you were upset with him, which wasn’t that often. Even hearing it come out of your own mouth seemed foreign.

That seemed to change his reaction, because he stood too instead, doubling down on his words. “Okay. Yes, that is how I feel about you leaving. You barely even talked to me about it, and the next thing I knew, you were packing all your things into boxes! I didn’t understand where this—this sudden desire to leave came from. I still don’t.”

“You don’t have to understand it. It’s already done.”

“Did I—did I do something wrong?”

You almost faltered. Almost.

“Did you ever think maybe me wanting to leave had nothing to do with you?”

“Honestly? No. It feels like it has everything to do with me. It feels like you moved out because you didn’t want to be around me anymore!” Charles exclaimed. “And I have kept my mouth shut, I’ve been trying to be supportive of your decision, but I think I have a right to know. Am I why you wanted to leave so badly?”

“That’s…part of it.” You admitted. Charles froze, brows flying up towards his hairline. “But not because of anything you did. Not because of the reason you’re thinking of.”

“I don’t really see any other explanation. And I am sorry, but that is a shit excuse. I would’ve thought that you of all people would tell me the truth.” He didn’t sound angry, just disappointed and a little hurt. Somehow that felt worse. You’d rather him be mad at you than hurt by you.

“I didn’t want to move out.” You said firmly.

“Then why did you?”

“I had to! I—I couldn’t live there anymore.”

“But why?” He sounded desperate, begging for you to clue him in to any reason, anything at all that would help him understand. And god, as scared as you were of changing things by telling Charles how you really felt about him, you were infinitely more scared of losing him for good if you didn’t.

“Because I’m fucking in love with you, Charles!” You blurted, finally. “I couldn’t live with you any longer, keeping this huge secret all the time, because it truly made me feel like I was about to explode. I just couldn’t do it anymore—pretend like everything was alright when every time I looked at you, all I could think about was how I felt about you! How much I felt for you.” Your voice rose with every word, emotion lacing your tone.

You could feel the tears burning your eyes, threatening to fall no matter how much you willed them not to. “I just thought, maybe if we lived apart, if we didn’t see each other all the time, maybe those feelings would go away.”

Charles blinked at you slowly. He scrubbed a hand over his cheek, across his mouth, letting it disappear into the neckline of his hoodie as he continued the motion near his jaw. Still, he said nothing. You weren’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad one, but still you continued.

“So no, it wasn’t because of anything you did. Or maybe it was, for making it so fucking easy to fall in love with you. I don’t know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t say anything to me, but I’m not sorry for making the decision on my own. It was for the best.”

There it was, out there in the open at last. It felt like a proverbial weight lifted off your shoulders, but at the same time like a thousand rocks sinking to the bottom of your stomach, because he wasn’t saying anything. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how you’d fuck up the best friendship you’d ever had.

Charles was silent for the longest time before he replied, and when he did, his voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it before. It felt unnerving. “You could’ve just told me.”

“Told you?” You had to fight the urge to let out a bitter, watery laugh. “Telling your best friend you’ve fallen in love with him isn’t just something you mention at the bathroom sink one night.”

“It is, if he feels the same way about you.”

A coldness crept down your neck, shooting through your veins like you’d just had a bucket of ice cold water dumped over your head.

“No you’re not—you don't...you can't.” You whispered, disbelieving.

Charles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “What, do you want me to prove it?”

You couldn’t give him an answer even if you wanted to. You weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to say a damn word, just in case this was all a dream and you'd wake up any second, still alone, still without him there.

He must’ve taken your silence as a yes to his question, because he crossed the room in three strides, took your face in firm hands, and he kissed you.

Despite your utter shock, you managed to kiss him back clumsily, fingers curling into his hoodie tightly. Charles kissed you like he was afraid to let you go, like you’d slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful enough.

A guiding hand curled around the back of your neck, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss, but only for a few seconds before he broke away, panting. His forehead stayed pressed against yours, soulful green eyes boring into your own in total seriousness.

“Do you believe me now?”

“Maybe.” You breathed, letting your nose bump against his gently. This was not a dream. Charles was real and here and one hell of a kisser (just as you suspected).

“I am in love with you.” He murmured, stroking his thumb over your cheek fondly. “I have been for a long time. And I never thought you would feel the same way.”

“I love you, Cha.” You were suddenly brought back to last night, when you’d uttered the same words to him. Only this time, they had a whole different meaning to them.

This time, you knew Charles loved you in the same way you loved him.

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heartsaturn · 2 months ago

Text

“i’m wearing tennessee orange for him” - lh43

luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which, blood doesn’t run thicker than water

warnings: nothing (??), intended lowercase, set in luke’s last season at umich, awkward!luke and a bit of shy!luke, ends in a bit of a cliffhanger so i’m open for part two requests if anyone wants it

a/n: woah !!! sara actually write a fic ?!? ik ik it’s crazy. this was requested by my one and only @daniiiboo, i deeply apologize for taking five years (a few MONTHS 😓) for this to come out. i still don’t really like this fic but i like it enough to post it.

———————————————————————-

if one thing is true, it is that ohio state hates university of michigan. the feeling is definitely mutual. the two schools have been rivals since before you can remember. all you know is that you cannot associate with someone from michigan. you were raised a buckeye, and you will stay a loyal buckeye, right?

well, being a loyal buckeye is really damn hard right now.

it is not an abnormal thing for you and your friends to go and support the sports teams at your school. most of the time, it was football games. sometimes, it was hockey games. and now hockey season is starting. the stadium buzzes with energy at the first rival game of the season. it’s the beginning of october and the beginning of fall, which you believe is one of the best times of the year. the air finally starts to become crisp after a blazing summer. it couldn’t be a better time for a hockey game. so, you and your friend decide to go to the game for the atmosphere.

just here for the atmosphere, you try to remind yourself now. you also happen to be questioning in your mind why a hockey player just tossed you a puck. a michigan hockey player. there is no way that he thought you were a michigan fan because, first of all, there is a very minimal amount of michigan fans. you’re literally at your home arena. second of all, you and all of your friends are wearing ohio state gear. who does this stupidly gorgeous wolverine think he is?

while all of your friends start squealing because of this boy’s gesture, you sit there in shock. you look at the puck that rests in your hands. you don’t snap out of your confused daze until one of your friends nudges you.

“you think he’s cute?” she asks with a small smile on her face. her words are teasing and her smile is smug.

of course, you think he’s cute. how could you not? he is tall, has curly hair that you can see peaking through his helmet, and you note the little smirk that he had on his face as he skated away from you.

“he’s not bad-looking,” you answer. you can’t stop a small smile that grows on your face as you look down at the little gift.

during the game, you and your friends find out that this boy’s number is 43 and his last name is hughes. you can’t deny that your eyes follow him almost the whole game. you try not to let them wander, you really do. upon finding out his last name and jersey number, your friends are able to find his instagram account.

“you guys are actually insane,” you say with a snicker.

“we just found your future boyfriend on instagram, so you're welcome,” one of your friends teases sassily.

the game goes on and the whole arena is filled with chants and overwhelming school spirit as ohio state finishes off the game, winning 4-3 in overtime.

this is not good for luke. his mind has gone into a spiral of what went wrong and what the team could have done better when he remembers his bold actions during warmups. the truth is, luke isn’t some cocky hotshot hockey player. he is just an awkward college student who happens to be pretty darn good at the sport he plays. luke is charming and charismatic. he knows this, mainly because he has been told by other people. he just isn’t all that confident in using these abilities quite yet.

luke can already feel the regret bubbling inside of him because of his previous actions, certain that he has zero shot with this girl. what are the chances of him even seeing her anyway? well, apparently very high because he does see her again.

you had let your friends encourage you to wait outside the locker rooms to see if you could find the boy that they so desperately want you to meet. and then they left you. they left you wandering outside the locker rooms anxiously by yourself. in their minds, it was a way to get you alone with luke. in your mind, it was downright mean. the only people who really stand outside the locker rooms are family members and girlfriends, which you are neither of. you feel out of place and you honestly hope that luke comes out of the locker room just so that you don’t have to hover awkwardly for much longer.

then, your prayers are answered because out walks the same hockey player that had so shamelessly thrown a girl on the opposing school’s team a puck earlier. only this time, the boy looks much less intimidating. he actually looks quite friendly. when he walks out of the locker room, he is talking with one of his teammates. he looks exhausted and a bit beaten up from the loss that his team just faced, but that doesn’t make him any less attractive in your eyes.

luke sees you and immediately recognizes you. he couldn’t forget such a pretty face. honestly, that is probably the only reason that he gained the confidence to toss you a puck in the first place. seeing you smiling with your friends and looking so gorgeous while doing it made luke so desperate to try and flirt with you.

now, luke is a tad stunned. he sees you and just freezes for a moment. he decides to approach you after a few seconds of you not noticing him.

“hello,” you hear a male voice say after clearing his throat. you spin around to see the captivating wolverine from earlier.

“oh, hi..” you reply softly. both of you seem too shy to speak to the other properly.

“thanks for the puck,” you speak up, now looking up at his taller frame.

“oh yeah, no problem. i’m sure you get that all the time being as stunning as you are…” luke says back. his demeanor is still very bashful. although, he can feel his confidence swell as the conversation flows on because there is no way that he is losing his chance with you.

you find his attempt at flirting a bit amusing but still sweet. his continuous attempts to impress you and try to hold the discussion with you are honestly adorable.

“not usually, and not by anyone i would want to get to know anyway. i could make an exception for you though,” you respond, a pleased smile finding its way to your features.

“do you want to get to know me while we get lunch then?” luke asks. very smooth transition, luke. very smooth indeed.

“our schools are three hours away from each other you know…” you say. your words are meant to be taken almost as a warning. not just a warning to luke but to yourself as well.

“i have a feeling i’ll be in it for the long game,” the boy simply replies with a little grin and slight shrug. his casual answer eased you a bit and let you know that he wants to make it work out if you also want to.

you have literally known this boy for a whole two minutes of your life and you are already thinking about if you could go long distance with him. i guess he really did catch your attention on the ice.

“i’m luke by the way,” he says.

“y/n,” you reply.

you don’t dare to tell your family what school luke goes to if you guys do end up making it work.

———————————————————————-

word count: 1269

#🎀 𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬!!#heartsaturn #hockey #nhl #nhl hockey #new jersey devils #new jersey devils x reader #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #lh43 #lh43 x reader #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine #umich hockey #x reader

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suugarbabe · 5 months ago

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drunken daydreams | s.b. x reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of drinking, pining, fluff

a/n: little fun fact i found out, beer pong was invented in the 1950's?? also this is for week three of jinxed july <3

Hopeless. That is what it felt like to crush on Sirius Black. Hopeless because Sirius was, well…everything. He was charming beyond belief, even professors falling for his half turned smile and cheeky winks. He was absolutely gorgeous, unfairly so really, onyx hair that fell in messy tendrils no matter how many times he ran his ring glad fingers through it. His eyes were always playfully full of mischief, but if you truly paid attention to him (and you did) you could tell that they shifted just the slightest bit in shade depending on his mood. His mouth seemed to permanently be painted with a smirk unless someone was telling him ‘no’, then his powder pink lips would puff in a pout and who in their right mind could deny that look? (certainly not you).

When Lily asked you to spend a week at James’s family cabin with her over summer holiday you had originally said no. James’s cabin meant Sirius’s cabin since the latter now lived with the former; that and they were attached at the hip with no hope of prying them apart. Lily had pouted, begging you to say yes, but going only seemed like torture. Torture because it’d be a week essentially alone with Sirius as Lily and James would likely frequently find couple things to do, Marlene and Dorcus would be hiking everyday and Remus would seclude himself with ‘peace and quite for once’. Alone time with Sirius made you nervous because you were nearly, practically, almost one hundred percent sure that your feelings toward Sirius were not reciprocated.

But that did not stop Lily from employing the raven haired boy to get you to change your mind. Which is how you found yourself conveniently alone with Sirius in the train compartment on the ride back from Hogwarts. “Pretty please, you can’t not go, everyone’s going,” in classic fashion with his little pout and his eyes widened. You tried to avert your gaze from his, knowing if you looked too long you’d give in. But this tactic failed miserably as Sirius simply moved back into your view, “I’m literally begging here, love,” and oh how he looked so pretty begging. “Please say yes, I cannot hear James or Lils complain the whole week. I need you there.”

He needed you there. That’s what he had said. And that one phrase spun a slew of delusional scenarios in your mind that led you to agree to join the rest of the group for the week.

It wasn’t as bad as you originally anticipated in the beginning. The lot of you gathered at the Potter’s manor, utilizing the floo system for the trip to the cabin, that experience going surprisingly swimmingly for it being your first time. The first night at the cabin you guys decided on a bonfire. “It’s like christening the place,” James had said, with much encouragement from Sirius and much to the eye roll of Remus. “We’ll go get drinks started!” Lily grabbed your arm, pulling you up from your chair and back towards the door of the cabin, “any requests or all we good with surprises?”

James Dorcus and Remus laid out drink orders while Marlene said you could surprise her. You turned to Sirius as he spoke next, “You know my drink, don’t you love?” You bit the inside of your cheek, hoping the heat you felt wasn’t making itself prominent as a blush on your cheeks, “Firewhiskey with cola, right?” Sirius winked, nodding in confirmation and the swarm of butterflies in your stomach started humming.

Back in the kitchen Lily was practically vibrating with excitement. You let out a long sigh, “Something got you worked up Lils? Wanna share with the class?” Lily wore a small grin as she filled all the glasses with ice, “I’m just thinking about what I saw and if you saw it too.” You halted in filling Sirius's glass, resting both hands on the counter in front of you, “What do you think you saw? Because James’s googly eyes over you is basically a daily occurrence, I didn’t think it’d have you this excited still.” Lily rolled her eyes at your statement, “I’m very clearly talking about Sirius and you.”

You made a scrunched face at this, “There’s nothing between me and Sirius. Well, like we’re friends, obviously, but you know there’s nothing more.” Lily shrugged, a slight curl to her lips as she continued making drinks. “Lils, please. He doesn’t like me like that. It would never happen and honestly…” you grabbed a few glasses in your hands, “I’m coming to terms with that.” You were not coming to terms with it. But it would be far easier than having all your friends thinking you’re hopelessly pining after him. What doesn’t help is Lily’s next response, “I dunno, babes. I could see the two of you together.” She slid the back door open with her elbow before walking back onto the deck, calling out that drinks were ready.

That one comment had you reeling, overanalyzing every interaction and conversation you had ever had with Sirius. You barely even registered that he spoke to you when you handed him his drink before taking your seat in the lawn chair next to his. You glanced his way when you felt his stare after a moment, “Sorry, Siri, did you say something?” Sirius smiled sweetly at you, a hint of something you couldn’t read in his eyes, “Just a thanks for the drink, love.” The commonplace pet name had your cheeks aflame but you prayed to Merlin the light of the bonfire hid the evidence.

As the night went on and the drinks flowed, everyone was eventually corralled inside for what James called a “mandatory game of beer pong” after Lily agreed to play (and be his partner) with the promise that everyone would play ‘the muggle way’, no use of magic for assistance. Everyone agreed and placed their wands on the counter and paired up, you finding yourself partnered with Sirius. Remus stated he would be the officiant to “help keep Sirius and James in line and following the rules” much to their promises to play cleanly. “Ready, partner?” Sirius called you up to the table, dropping the ping pong ball in one of the cups closest to him. You nodded, a tight lip smile on your lips to try and help hide the nerves that were brewing inside.

You looked across the table at Lily and James, the red head trying to conceal her smirk as she looked from you to Sirius and back. You rolled your eyes with a slight smile before Sirius started smack talking James. “Oh you’re in for it now, Potter. You and your little Lilly flower are cute and all, but you’re no match for me and y/n/n here, isn’t that right, love?” Sirius held his hand out palm up, clearly waiting for you to slap it. You gave him a high five and a small nervous laugh, “Y-yeah, right.”

To your surprise Sirius was actually correct; James and Lily were horrible at beer pong, but you and Sirius looked like seasoned champions. The game against them went rather quickly, James sulking against Lilly on the couch as Marlene and Dorcus re-racked the red cups. This game proved to be a little more difficult, the girls being able to really go toe to toe with you and Sirius, you were down to two cups left to sink, while Marlene and Dorcus only had three cups. Marlene stood tall at the end of the table, ping pong ball in hand. She closed one eye, Dorcus semi-slurring encouragements to her before Marlene gave the ball a light toss.

You watched as the ball arched in the air coming down towards one of the last three cups. The ball began the swirl around the rim of the cup and your next actions were more on instinct than real knowledge or skill of the game. You bent down near the cup, giving a quick blow of air near the ball before watching the physics of the combination making the ball jump from the cup and land back onto the table. Sirius let out a gleeful noise of shock, whereas Marlene and Dorcas began protesting, “Hey! We said no magic! Remus, that’s a foul we get that cup right?!” Sirius, however, was quick to go to your defense, “Nuh-uh, there was no magic involved, that’s just how good y/n/n’s blowing abilities are!”

Your eyes widened in shock at his words, Dorcas rattling off a teasing remark before Sirius could correct himself, “Oh? And how would you know about her blowing abilities, Black?” The drinks were getting to you slightly, a small giggle bubbling from your throat as Sirius tried his best to defend himself, “I, well…erm, that’s not what I meant…I-I mean,” he turned to face you, his eyes half lidded as they made contact with yours, “Don’t you look at me like that, love.” A lazy smile adorned your face, “I’m not looking at you any kind of way, Siri.”

Sirius shook his head in disagreement, “You’re giving me those eyes.” You batted your eyelashes a few times, “I’m not giving you any special eyes. Besides, if you’re wanting to know about my abilities, you can just tell me.” Sirius’s eyes widened before he let out a huff of air through his nose, “No, I don’t, I want to- I mean, you did the, the thing- and then Dorcus said what she said and so I just - I, erm, n-no I’m good.” While you laughed a little at his stumbling, you couldn’t deny the pit growing in your stomach the longer he tried to find nice ways to essentially reject your playful advance.

Luckily you didn’t have to hide your dejection for long as you and Sirius lost to the girls and now your solemn look could be explained by the loss of the game instead of the loss of any chance you had with Sirius. You gave him a half-hearted smile before going to find a seat on one of the couches as James and Lily went to play against the winners. You only half paid attention the game, every interaction with Sirius from the night playing back over and over in your mind. Why did he have to be so bloody hard to read?

To even get you on this trip in the first place he said he needed you there. But you don’t speak two words to each other in any capacity until everyone arrived at James’s manor. Even there it was only long glances, which could have been strictly initiated by you. Although you could have sworn he was already looking your way one or two times when you made eye contact. Here at the cabin you knew his drink, because of course you did. Was he teasing you earlier when he asked?

But he also winked at you. And he’s been calling you love, and made that comment about your ‘blowing skills’. But he does make dirty jokes a lot. You really would be a perfect couple though, all of your friends told you so whenever you talked about him, sometimes even when you didn’t talk about him. People wouldn’t say that to you just to be mean to you, I mean, these were your best friends. But he also essentially rejected your flirtatious advances. Why was this so hard to-

A ring clad hand was waving in front of your face causing you to blink several times before refocusing on the object of your delusional thoughts. Sirius had his ever present charming grin, a special glint in his hooded eyes, “Caught you daydreaming about me again, didn’t I, love?” Maybe it was the liquid courage, but the words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them, “Don’t be mean, Sirius.”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, “What do you-” Rather ungracefully, you cut him off, “Just because you know I have a crush on you doesn’t mean you can tease me like everyone else does. It’s honestly humiliating enough.” Sirius’s once smirking features changed to that of confusion, “It’s humiliating to have a crush on me?” You groaned in frustration, covering your face with your hands before looking down at your feet, “Yes, Sirius, it’s humiliating to have a raging crush on someone that clearly has no interest or feelings toward me beyond platonic friendship.”

The cool metal of his rings felt like ice against your flamed skin as he forced you to look at him, “Who said my feelings were strictly platonic?” You opened your mouth to respond before quickly closing it again. You sat up straighter then, Sirius’s hand dropping from your chin, “Well, you did, you said that. Back during the game, when Dorcus was teasing us and I asked if that’s what you wanted. You basically stumbled over a way to tell me you were uninterested in my advances.”

His melodic laugh filled your ears. You were ready to smack him for being so rude before he started giving you a viable response. “Sweetheart…I wasn’t trying to reject you,” you looked up to meet his eyes once more as he continued, “I responded that way because you had me flustered, you…kind of always make me feel that way.” He scratched the back of his head nervously, “I didn’t really know how to respond properly when Dorcus made that remark. And, erm, I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable by admitting I probably, erm, wouldn’t mind finding out how good your,” he gulped slightly, “abilities are.”

Your gaze fell to his lips before meeting his eyes once more; Sirius bit his lip, trying to hold back what you were sure was a shit-eating smirk. His hand cupped your cheek gently, “Can I?” You gave a small nod as you leaned in, Sirius closing the remaining distance before capturing your lips with his. This was not a fiery, passionate, kiss. But soft, gentle and sweet. His lips slotted against yours as though they were always meant to be there.

His fingers entangled slightly in your hair, pulling you closer to him. You braced yourself with a hand on his thigh. A small whimper drifted from Sirius’s throat at the extra physical contact, wanting to fuel you further. What felt like two small, solid objects pelted both you and Sirius, causing you both to pull away from each other in confusion. “Don’t partners usually only make out when they win a game, not when they lose?” Marlene teased lightly. You looked over at Lilly who gave you a wink. One thing was for sure, you were not going to doubt her again.

#jinxedjuly #jinxed july #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black x you #sirius black #sirius black imagine #marauders au #marauders era #marauders x you

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iambilliejeanok · 4 months ago

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✨How my favorite anime men would handle being a side piece:

Fandoms: Naruto||Jujustu Kaisen||Baki🩵

Warnings: 18+ , explicit, nsfw.

✨Naruto:

He genuinely doesn’t mind being your little thang thang on the side, as long as he gets adequate attention he’s really okay. Now naturally, you might not always have time for him seeing that you have to balance work, your main hubby and him too, which could lead to having to think of a few excuses to rain check seeing him. In the beginning, he would just roll his eyes and shrug it off, understanding his place, but recently, he’s been behaving rather ballsey.

Look, he respects and cares about you enough to not try to ruin your relationship with your main, but honey, he’s not scared of your little boyfriend, so don’t think he won’t actually rock up uninvited to your apartment while your man is there because he’s tired of you canceling plans for this main dude. He has absolutely no respect for your boyfriend in all honesty.

Having Naruto as a side is sooo risky because you can never be too confident that he won’t try something on you while your man is right there. If he wants to fight Naruto is more than happy to.

✨Gojo:

lol, in the beginning, he kind of understands. Everybody needs a little break from reality every now and then, and he knows you need him to satisfy a few needs of yours that your man simply cannot. While he’s got you creaming and squinting back to back from the overwhelming, deep strokes with your knees behind your head, he will make you confess your innermost feelings to him with tears in your eyes, which he finds absolutely funny.

When he’s not poking your bladder, he will remind you of the words you spoke in bed and tease you over it. But listen girl, he’s only your side piece because he’s choosing to be it. Maybe he also doesn’t have time to fully commit to an actual relationship, but whatever the reason, you better hope and pray that things stay that way, because if he does catch feelings for you, Gojo doesn’t mind straight up telling your man that you’re ONLY gonna be his girlfriend from here on out. Especially with the way your orgasms grip him while he’s deep inside of you, how you cry his name out like a desperate prayer and most especially how beautiful you look in the aftermath of the mess he puts you through, LORD HAVE MERCY, he’s gonna tell your boyfriend exactly what’s going on down to the finest detail and he’s serious. Gojo will sit your man down at a nice cafe, order him a beverage of his choice and simply let him know that you are no longer going to be his girlfriend, because he’s decided he wants you all to himself. The end. If the your man decides to argue Gojo might simply shut him down with a “Fight for her. I dare you”, with an innocent smile on his pretty face, before getting up to leave.

✨Nanami:

Nanami knew what he was getting himself into. You were open and honest when you told him you were only looking for entertainment when your man wasn’t around, but even so, he still gets slightly sassy with you when you tell him you have to leave and go back to your main man.

He might give you the silent treatment when you come back to him after a long week of spending time with your boyfriend. He will respectfully ask you to not touch him without taking a shower first and he will sit infront of the shower and watch you wash yourself from head to toe to make extra sure that that man’s energy will be no where near him throughout the duration of your visit.

He hopes and prays that you’ll one day come to your senses a day leave your boyfriend for good, which isn’t such a difficult decision to make considering how much of a gentleman Nanami is. He always reminds you that you can simply chose him over you boyfriend any day and if your boyfriend ever bothers you, he will put an end it him. Literally.

✨Baki:

Baki isn’t going to be a side piece. Plain and simple. He is going to be the main in this, and the actual main will have to move over and become the side dish okay. It’s actually quite humiliating because your boyfriend can’t even fight, so he has to allow Baki to walk all over him.

Baki can be a little bit of a bully sometimes, most especially if your boyfriend resists him and shows a little courage and determination to keep you. It won’t end well for your boyfriend though because Baki might consider fucking you until you’re begging him to give you a break and will force your boyfriend to watch the entire show, reminding him that this right here is the exact reason why you’re too tired to sleep with him when you get back home from “the gym” or “extra shifts at work” .

#naruto imagines #naruto smut #naruto headcanons #naruto fanfiction #naruto x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo imagine #gojo satoru smut #nanami imagines #nanami smut #nanami x reader #baki fanfic #baki smut #baki x reader #baki imagines

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 10 months ago

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Imagine sweet little housewife!reader making Ghost dinner after a long deployment. Ghost promises housewife!reader he'll wait till tonight to treat her good, but seeing her in her cute little shorts and his shirt is too much for him to control, so he decides a different dinner.. her tight, wet little cunt.

READ IT HERE

Oh you know exactly what I like Anon, cause anything that has to do with Simon coming home after a long deployment all ramped up and ready to see his sweetheart is right up my alley. I could literally write endlessly about this.

There is something so fantasruc about having all that pining, all that buildup come to a head so that Simon loses himself and cannot stop himself because he desperately has to be inside you.

Cause, let’s be honest: this man pines for you when he's gone for too long. He never knew he could crave someone until he met you and now every time he goes on mission you are there in his mind torturing him. And he finds that he cannot wait to come home because he knows he has his beautiful girl waiting for him.

You are his little slice of heaven in a chaotic, fucked up world; his sunshine to help rip him out of the overwhelming darkness the surrounds him; the one who he wants to be better for so that your lives together can be good. And that makes him crave you even more.

Sure, to say he is obsessed may be a bit much, but he isn’t subtle about how much he adores you.

Especially his little wife? His sweet girl that he takes care of and in turn she takes care of him? Who keeps things going outside of his work so that he has a life to come back to? The one who makes his life so wonderful just by being in it? Oh yeah he is going to be so down bad to get back to all that that it's almost impossible to function until he sees you.

From the moment he steps in the door and his eyes catch you working away in the kitchen to have a home cooked meal waiting for him, dressed in nothing but his baggy t-shirt, all that pent up longing is going to come spilling out in the most explosive ways.

So, best get ready for dinner to be a little dry and maybe burnt because Simon is hungry for something else. And you should probably get ready for the table getting ruined too as he is going to need room to lay out his first course.

Keep your eyes peeled for this one cause I am definitely going to make it happen as it’s own fic.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon smut #simon #ghost simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut

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dragon-kazansky · 8 months ago

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Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Ten - Duel at dawn

♡♡♡

Meanwhile, at the art studio, Benedict was still lingering around. Most of the artists had vacated the room by this point, but Benedict Bridgerton was still present.

"You have great potential." Henry said, coming up beside him.

"It's nothing," Benedict says sharply.

"Though, for such a staunch critic of others, you certainly lack a clear eye for your own work."

Benedict sighs. "It's the lines. Not what they're supposed to be."

"Take the compliment, Bridgerton. There is no expectation or judgement here. You left all of that back in Mayfair. You can feel free to be yourself here... if that's what you should like."

Benedict smiles.

"It's what works for me, at least. And I haven't been dissatisfied with my lines in... well, quite some time."

Benedict chuckles again. "Well, I've done worse, I suppose, really."

"Mm. Fair enough."

"I seem to have enjoyed myself too much this evening." Benedict looks around at the empty room. "I should be on my way."

"As you wish," Henry says nonchalantly. "But know you are welcome back any time for practice or even conversation."

They both chuckle.

♡♡♡

By the time Benedict gets home, Anthony and Daphne are talking very seriously in the hall. He stops and looks at his two siblings.

"What is it?"

Anthony marches over and grabs him by the arm. "You and I need to talk. Daphne, bed."

Anthony drags his brother to his study.

"I will need you to stand as my second," he says after explaining everything to Benedict.

"What if you get yourself killed?" Benedict asks. He wasn't exactly thrilled about what had apparently transpired, but even less so about the thought of losing his brother.

"Then the title and estates will pass to you," Anthony tells him.

Benedict didn't want that.

"And if you kill Hastings?"

"I shall have to leave the country, and you'll be head of the family in every way that matters."

Again, he didn't want that.

Chuckling I the hall draws their attention to the door.

You laugh with Colin as Violet hangs off the both of you. She's clearly been drinking a lot tonight. She can't even walk straight. You've never seen her so uncomposed before.

The door opens behind you, and Anthony and Benedict are standing there.

"You're clearly sover," Colin laughs with his mother.

"And I'm sober enough to know when you're being impertinent." She chuckles. "Good night, dear."

You giggle. Violet waves at you lazily, and you chuckle again at her inability to remain composed.

You turn to see the two brothers still standing there and nudge Colin. He looks at you and then at them. They wave him over.

"Good god. Did someone die?" Colin asks.

You look at Anthony, who glances at you, his sowlnt thank you for helping bring his mother home. Then your gaze shifts to Benedict, who looks at you with a strange expression. You wonder where he's been all evening.

Colin turns to you. "Get home safe, okay?"

You nod, knowing your maid was waiting outside. You watch him walk toward his brothers and then leave.

♡♡♡

You arrive early to the Bridgerton house the next morning. You had snuck out alone. You had hoped to be there early enough before Anthony left to duel the duke.

Unfortunately they had already left.

You had, however, arrived in time to see Daphne and Colin leaving. When Colin saw you he sighed.

"You cannot be serious."

"I am."

Daphne says your name as she looks at you. "You do not have to witness this."

"I want to. As your friend. I will not allow this stupid, and mind I remind you illegal, activity to take place."

Colin sighs and helps you up into his horse. "Hold on."

He spurs the horse on, leading Daphne to the agreed spot. You hold on tight to him as he rides.

All Daphne can think about is Simon.

"Anthont won't... kill him, right?" You ask, watching Daphne ride.

"No. Sound him, surely."

"Good..."

"Are you worried?" He asks.

"Yes. Are you not?"

Colin doesn't answer.

By the time you arrive within diat ne of seeing them, the two are already stood feet apart with their pistols aimed. It's Daphne who rides faster to get between them.

"Stop!"

Anthony fires his pistol as soon as she shouts, the horse his sister's on rears back and Daphne falls to the ground.

"Daphne!" Simon shouts.

"Sister!"

Both men run toward her.

Colin pulls his horse to a stop, and you both climb off, rushing to them. Benedict drops the pistol case and does the same. He doesn't have time to ask why you're here.

"Are you hurt? Tell me!" Simon demands.

"I am perfectly well, no thanks to you idiots," she says, standing up.

"What are you playing at?" Anthony asks.

"Says the man who just shot at me!"

"You just rode into the middle of a duel!"

"I require a moment with the duke," Daphne says softly.

Anthony tries to stop her, but she stops him in return. Benedict pulls Anthony back and says, "make it brief."

Daphne and Simon walk off to talk.

"What are you doing here?" Benedict asks once they're out of ear shot.

"I came to help stop this ridiculous display."

"You could have been hurt," he says.

"No one got hurt, luckily."

Benedict looks a little lost for words. You sigh and look at him and then at Anthony. The eldest looks at you and nods once, softly. His eyes then flick back over to his sister.

"We must resume before someone should find us," Anthony says to the pair.

Simon nods at him.

Daphne watches him walk and then says, "there will be no need to resume."

Everyone turns to look at her.

"The duke and I are to be married."

You look at her and then turn to the duke. You're not sure what they discussed. He stares at her.

The three brothers look between the duke and their sister.

Whatever they discussed, Daphne made up her mind.

When Simon does not speak against her statement, it becomes clear to everyone that the matter is settled.

Now you all just need to get home before someone sees you all.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen -

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

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mionemymind · 9 months ago

Text

Lost in the Universe (Part 2)

Summary: The aftermath of Y/n being rescued from the alternate universe.

Warnings: Fluff, Kissing, Cursing, Jealousy

A/n: @tynix had requested a part two. And I wanted to post something since I JUST TURNED 23 BABES!! So I guess this is a birthday gift for me?? Hope y'all enjoy the fluff. Also, I love all the Candy Montgomery gifs that I keep seeing :)

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist

Part 1

“I appreciate you teaching her how to control her powers, but we cannot have you going through different universes again,” Wanda complained into Y/n’s chest. Today was an off day and the couple decided to spend much-needed quality time together. Y/n slightly chuckled at Wanda’s pouty-ness, ever since they came back to their universe, Wanda had been feeling extra clingy.

“You worry too much my love. There was no doubt in my mind that you would’ve found me.” Y/n tweaked her words a little as she remembered alternate Wanda’s words. “We’re tethered,” Y/n thought. She kissed her girlfriend’s forehead, continuing to run her fingers through Wanda’s hair.

“How can I not worry? You try finding me throughout different universes.” Y/n chuckled more much to Wanda’s dismay. The redhead was more than anxious about the whole situation. She tried her best not to be so angry at America for the obvious accident, but not knowing what universe Y/n was in spiraled her to think the worst.

“Well my love, you’re more powerful than me. So I would have a harder time getting to you.” Wanda rolled her eyes at the compliment but still smiled. “Not only that, I would’ve probably talked to other Wanda’s out there to help me find you.”

“Speaking of, how was my counterpart? Was it freaky to see me in a different universe?” Y/n hummed for a bit, letting herself get lost at the thought of alternate Wanda.

“I was really scared at first. You being the Scarlet Witch, I wasn’t sure if alternate Wanda had the same powers as you. Not only that, I begged in my heart that you were good too. I wouldn’t know how to deal with an evil Wanda - wait if she’s evil, she might be emo too - and your emo phase was pretty hot babe.” Wanda swatted Y/n’s chest as Y/n laughed at the obvious joke she said. Intertwining their hands, Y/n rubbed circles in Wanda’s palm, “But seriously…when I first got there she called me dekta like you. I almost thought it was you, however, something inside me could just feel that it wasn’t you.”

“So what happened?” Y/n sighed as she rubbed Wanda’s back. The redhead enjoyed the constant feeling of Y/n’s touch. “She called me out. Told me that I’m not her Y/n. Rather than giving me a hard time for being in her universe, she let me into her house and kind of relieved my anxiety.”

Wanda smiled at the thought of her counterpart being nice to her girlfriend. Although Wanda could never imagine a world where she would hurt Y/n, she was just extra grateful to know Y/n never landed in that scenario. “Did you like her more than me?” Wanda joked.

Y/n snorted at Wanda’s lame joke, “Well she did make me hot chocolate.” Wanda rolled her eyes again as she lightly hit Y/n’s chest one more time. “Keep hitting me woman, I’ll make America send me there again.”

Wanda lifted her head and flashed her red eyes at Y/n. “Don’t you even dare.” Y/n smiled at her girlfriend’s obvious jealousy and gave her a small kiss. “I wouldn’t - plus the only reason I would want to is to help my counterpart get their shit together.”

“What do you mean?” Y/n kissed Wanda once more before laying her head back onto the pillow. “Alternate Wanda said that alternate Y/n hasn’t confessed her feelings yet, which is annoying because they literally live on a farm together. How platonic can that shit even be?”

“What if your counterpart was just as scared as you?” Y/n lingered back to the time before she confessed her feelings to Wanda. All the yearning and pent-up feelings were enough to compete with any love-struck idiot. “I can imagine that, but at the same time, I hadn’t bought a farm with you yet and she did.”

“You and this farm.” Wanda kissed Y/n's arm. “Should we get a place of our own?”

“Where would you like to live?” Wanda thought about it, no particular location was coming to mind. “Something that doesn’t scream American capitalism.”

“Italy farmlands?” Y/n moved her hand from Wanda’s back up to Wanda’s head, running her fingers through her hair again. “What made you think of that?”

“I forgot the title, but I remember liking this movie that was located in the Italy farmlands.” Y/n kept racking her brain for the title, nothing came up though. “When you were searching for me, did you ever find alternate me’s?”

“I found a couple. One was almost like you but two of them were drastically different in style so that helped a lot.” Wanda recalled the moment she almost mistook one of Y/n’s counterparts for her Y/n. But it all came back to that tethered feeling.

“One of the Y/n’s was actually with their Wanda. It was fun to talk to a different version of myself. She was quick to tell me that I was in the wrong universe and tried to direct me to you.”

“What if she thought you were there to steal the other version of me?” Y/n joked once more. “I wouldn’t want a different version of you. You’re it for me dekta.” Wanda got up once more and kissed Y/n slowly. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“Never.”

Alternate Universe

“Who’s the slut?” Wanda barely entered her house before the accusations were thrown at her by Y/n. “Excuse me?” Wanda had returned from the edge of their farm where counterpart Y/n was rescued from.

“You heard me. Who. Is. The. Slut.” Y/n stood with her arms crossed, her eyes motioned to the two cups at the coffee table. Wanda rolled her eyes with a devilish smile, “You.”

Making Y/n work for more answers, Wanda walked away to the kitchen. “Very funny Wanda,” Y/n mocked. “I wasn’t being funny,” Wanda batted her eyes innocently which annoyed Y/n even further. “Who the fuck was it?” Y/n was irritated beyond belief. She had come home from a mission hoping to see her crush just to find out that some bitch came over and drank her supply of hot chocolate with “her girl”.

“Well, she’s this very hot girl,” Wanda said as she played dumb, she walked slowly to Y/n and continued, “She’s very charming and kind too - actually, she helped me with the farm today.” This angered Y/n beyond belief. Who the fuck comes to her home and manages to steal her girl within hours? She had a five-year plan that’s been in motion since the day she met Wanda.

With one last step, Wanda was in Y/n’s space, wrapping her arms around her neck and Y/n held her hips. “Do you like her?” Wanda thought about it for a second, before saying, “Something like that.” Wanda enjoyed the feeling of messing with Y/n, especially with something so harmless.

However, Y/n could not take it anymore. Frustrated, Y/n stepped out of Wanda’s grasp. “Well, I hope you live happily ever after,” Y/n said sarcastically. Before she could walk any further, Wanda grabbed her hand and pulled Y/n back into her arms. She rolled her eyes, “You are so oblivious.”

Not wanting to wait any further, Wanda confidently kissed Y/n, feeling the tether that connected them ignite with a new fire, a new love. Y/n reacted swiftly as Wanda jumped and wrapped her legs around Y/n’s waist. “More,” Y/n begged in her head, her knees were growing weak, but she needed more.

Wanda abruptly cut the kiss off, pushing Y/n slightly back as she moved forward, eager for more. “Will you finally admit that you’re in love with me?” Y/n grinned as she kissed Wanda’s cheek, “I had a plan.”

“Oh yeah? It took somebody coming over to finally rile you up.”

“Speaking of, who the fuck was it?” Wanda laughed as Y/n sternly asked.

“You’ll never guess.”

Taglist: @halobaby @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog

@sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me

@ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha

@itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @coxmicbabygirl @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff

@imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy@olsensnpm @psychadelichues @whitelotus00 @taliiiaasteria @tynix @autorasexy @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hiiraya

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #fluff #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel #lost in the universe

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lizzyiii · 2 months ago

Note

Giiiirllllll I cannot wait for your next chaoter of his lady love 😘😚 I'm so glad I found this fic xoxoxoox

I'm so happy that you're enjoying this, babe 😚

His Lady Love (10)

pairing | aemond targaryen x vampire!mikaelson! reader taglist | to be added to the tag list just add your username to this DOC word count | 4.3k words summary | guilt gnaws at your mind as your love for aemond grows, so you decide to finally tell him. tags | 18+ (MDNI), SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST (in that order), p in v sex, heavy angst (aemond doesn't know how to communicate), vampire powers, heavy miscommunication note | next chapter, we explore reader's backstory. I saw a post about inclusion, and it really stuck with me, that's why I always like to emphasize how reader could literally be any race (despite her whole family being white) and that's why I leave her father a mystery. and in my case I envision her as poc (that's why I emphasize mikaels hate for her; you cannot tell me he isn't racist), but if you envision her as white (mikael only really hates her cause he knows she's not his) that's my TED TALK, enjoy!!!

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

"Yes, my love," Aemond growled from underneath you. “Ride me.”

As you bounced atop him, Aemond's deep purple eye locked onto yours, filled with lust and a hint of possessiveness. He gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as you grinded down onto him. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room, mingling with your ragged breaths.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. "Take what you need, my love."

Aemond's hands roamed your curves, tracing the dips and swells of your body as he kissed and nipped at your neck. Your moans spurred him on, making him harder inside you. He thrusted up to meet your downward strokes, driving deeper with each pass.

"Don't hold back," he urges, his voice low and husky. "Do you like me inside you?”

You nodded deliriously feeling him grip your waist, helping you set a faster pace on top of him. Meeting every thrust you made. "You make me feel so full,” you moaned out.

He grinned wickedly as you picked up the pace, reveling in the way your slick walls clenched around him with each powerful stroke. "That's it, ride me hard," he encouraged, his voice dripping with desire. "Take everything I have."

His fingers dug into your hips, using the leverage to drive up into you even harder. The headboard slammed against the wall with each brutal thrust, punctuating the primal sounds of your coupling. Aemond's gaze never left yours, drinking in the sight of you above him, lost in the throes of passion.

"You're so fucking perfect like this," he rasped, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I could fill you up all day, every day."

You nodded deliriously, feeling your climax building, Aemond focused his attention on your sensitive clit, circling and pressing just right to send you careening over the edge. As your body trembled and clenched around him, he captured your cry in a fierce kiss, muffling your moans against his mouth.

When your shudders subsided, he swiftly rolled you onto your back, pinning your legs around his waist. With a grunt of effort, he drove into you with renewed vigor, pounding into your warmth with relentless intensity.

"Fucking hell, look at you," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "So beautiful when you come undone for me." His thrusts became erratic as his own release approached, his balls drawing up tight. "Gonna fill you up, my love...mark you as mine..."

With a final, powerful thrust, Aemond buried himself to the hilt inside you, his cock pulsating as he spilled his seed deep within your quivering depths. His roar of completion mingled with your cries of ecstasy, the force of his climax causing your bodies to jerk and twitch together.

Aemond’s breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving against yours as he collapsed onto you, still sheathed inside you. His body, warm and solid, pressed against yours as he whispered possessively, "Mine."

The single word was filled with a raw intensity, the claim echoing between you as he laid his forehead against yours, still catching his breath.

"Yours," you replied softly, your voice barely more than a breath as your eyes locked with his. His violet eye, filled with something deeper than just desire, burned into you.

His hand brushed gently along the side of your face, calloused fingers tracing the curve of your jaw with a tenderness that contrasted the fire that had consumed you both moments before.

As the frenzy of the moment ebbed, Aemond lowered his lips to yours again, but this time, the kiss was slower—deliberate. His tongue moved languidly, savoring the taste of you as if committing you to memory.

This was no mere expression of lust; it was love wrapped in longing, each movement conveying what words alone could not. His hand cradled the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the embrace, as if afraid you might disappear.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his eye never leaving your face. His lips quirked into a small, rare smile—one that he saved only for you. "I love you," he murmured, his voice low and intimate, as though sharing a secret meant only for your ears. "More than anything in this world."

The depth of his feelings overwhelmed you, as if centuries of his unspoken emotions now hung in the air between you. Tears gathered in your eyes, shimmering like stars, but this was not weakness—it was the weight of eternity, of a love too powerful to be contained in mere words. You could feel the centuries you’d lived fall away, leaving only this moment with him, pure and timeless.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him into another kiss. His body, strong and unyielding, melted against the softness of yours. There was no need for words as his hands roamed your body, possessive yet gentle, as if grounding himself in the very feel of you.

The kiss deepened, his lips pressing into yours with a desperation that mirrored the hunger of the love he held for you. His tongue danced with yours, a slow, deliberate exploration, as if savoring every second of your closeness.

In that moment, time seemed to still. The world outside—the battles, the politics, the shifting allegiances—ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, wrapped in a cocoon of passion and love, a bond that transcended the mortal concerns of kings and queens. Every touch, every breath you shared, felt eternal.

When the kiss finally broke, his breath mingling with yours, your gaze met his, and you saw everything you needed to know reflected in that single violet eye.

“Always and forever, Aemond,” you whispered the only words you knew, the vow carried across centuries. It was a promise of devotion, as unbreakable as the ancient blood coursing through your veins, and as enduring as the night sky above.

Aemond’s grip on you tightened, as though the mere thought of letting you go pained him. “Always and forever,” he repeated, his voice raw with emotion.

And as you laid there, wrapped in his embrace, you knew no force in this world—whether dragon or dagger—could ever sever the love that bound you to him.

The warmth of the afternoon sun bathed the Red Keep, casting a golden glow over the city below. Yet you felt no comfort from it, sitting alone atop Aemond’s private balcony, still dressed in the silken nightgown you had worn when he left.

His parting kiss still lingered on your lips, his words, whispered softly into your ear, echoed in your mind. It had been a goodbye that left you breathless, as if his presence alone had woven itself too deeply into your heart, too quickly for your own good.

The distant sound of peasants protesting in the streets of King's Landing reached your ears, their voices desperate and angry. You could hear them demanding food, blaming the crown for their misfortunes, but their cries felt like background noise to the turmoil inside you. The scent of Aemond clung to your skin, his possessive hold still fresh in your memory.

How had you let it get this far? How had you allowed yourself to become so entangled with him?

You sighed, staring down at the bustling city, your thoughts filled with the strange, dangerous path you had chosen. Aemond’s obsession with you had been evident from the start.

You had known what it was to be the object of desire before, but never like this—never with someone who looked at you as though you were his world, his salvation. And now you were falling into that same trap.

You were lovesick, you thought with a bitter laugh. As lovesick as Rebekah.

Rebekah, your elder sister, had always yearned for love and a mortal life. How many times had Klaus mocked her for it? For her desire to be something other than what they were—vampires, cursed to outlive those we loved.

And yet, here you were, entangled in your own dangerous romance, captivated by a man who knew nothing of your true nature. How could you have been so reckless?

You could almost hear Niklaus' voice in your head. If he saw you now, sitting here in your lover’s chambers, smitten and vulnerable, he would laugh at your foolishness. Then, with his usual fury, he would tear through King’s Landing to find Aemond, perhaps rip his heart from his chest, just to prove a point.

He would tell you this is what love leads to—weakness. Betrayal. And he would kill Aemond, not because Aemond was anything to him, but to teach you a lesson.

You clenched your fists, your strength leaving small cracks in the stone railing beneath your fingers. The idea of Niklaus finding out about this sent a shiver down your spine. He wouldn't understand. He couldn’t.

Aemond was nothing like the men you had known before—he was fierce, proud, and ruthless, much like your family, but there was a tenderness in him, a vulnerability he showed only to you.

Yet that same ruthlessness terrified you. You knew what Aemond was capable of, and it mirrored the darkness you knew too well. That was perhaps why you had fallen so hard for him.

But he did not know the depth of your own darkness—the centuries of blood and violence you carried, the truth of your immortality. Could he still love you, knowing the monster that lurked beneath your skin? Would he turn from you?

You exhaled, pushing down the rising anxiety. This love was dangerous, yes. Reckless. But despite everything, despite the centuries of heartache and loss, you couldn’t bring yourself to walk away from Aemond. Not yet.

Gods help me, you thought.

And yet, as you sat there, your heart ached for the prince who had already claimed too much of it.

And soon the weight of the evening hung heavily in the air as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the chambers. You paced restlessly, your mind racing with thoughts that coiled like smoke, thick and suffocating.

Tonight was the night. The moment had finally arrived for you to reveal the truth—your truth. You could no longer live in the shadows of deception, pretending to be someone you weren’t, especially not with Aemond, the one who had come to mean so much to you in such a short time.

As the distant sounds of the city settled into a haunting stillness, the protests of the hungry peasants faded into memory. You couldn’t shake the image of Aemond’s fierce violet eye, filled with adoration and fire, and it stung to think of how he might look at you once the truth was laid bare.

Would he still see you as the one he loved most? Would he still see you as the woman who had saved Jaehaerys? Or would you become nothing more than a monster in his eyes, a creature of the night, condemned to wander the shadows forever? The thought twisted your heart in knots.

You stopped in front of the ornate mirror, running your fingers over your hair as you scrutinized your reflection. The delicate fabric of your nightgown flowed around you, a stark contrast to the darkness that simmered within.

What if he wishes you gone after that? A chilling thought that clawed at your resolve. But no matter the consequences, you could no longer hide from the truth. He deserved to know, just as you had chosen to open your heart to him, to let him in despite the danger it posed.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself, the weight of centuries of existence pressing down upon you. I am stronger than this, you reminded yourself. The fear of rejection was a fleeting shadow compared to the eternal darkness you had faced in your life.

You had witnessed the rise and fall of empires, the agony of betrayal, and the sweet sorrow of love lost. You would face whatever came next with the same resolve.

The door creaked open, and your heart quickened at the sight of Aemond, framed by the flickering torchlight. And to which you noticed immediately the mixture of exhaustion and restrained fury etched into his features. You stepped forward, your worries dissolving as you reached out, cupping his face gently.

"What’s wrong?" you asked softly, your voice filled with concern.

Aemond sighed, leaning into your touch, his lone violet eye trailing over your form before meeting yours. "You’re still in your nightgown," he murmured, the tension in his voice lingering.

"I was tired from the journey," you replied, your own concern deepening. "What happened, Aemond?"

"The peasants," he spat the word with disdain, "They attacked Mother and Helaena as they returned from the Sept."

Your eyes widened in shock. You had been here, lounging in Aemond’s chambers while your dearest friend and the queen had been assaulted. "Are they alright?"

Aemond gave a small nod, his expression darkening. "Physically, yes. Helaena was shaken, though."

Anger and frustration weighed heavily in his sigh as his hand came up to cradle yours. "I can’t fathom why they direct their hatred toward us rather than Rhaenyra. She’s the one who ordered the blockade. And some of their fury stems from the hanged ratcatchers."

"Hanged?" you echoed in confusion.

"Aegon ordered the hanging of every ratcatcher in the Keep," Aemond replied, the exasperation clear in his voice.

"But I killed the one who was sent by Daemon," you reminded him.

Aemond rolled his eye, frustration palpable. "Aegon was a fool. Paranoid and desperate."

Aemond remained silent for a moment, his chest rising and falling as he tried to temper his anger, the warmth of your touch grounding him. His lone violet eye eventually found yours, and for the first time, he noticed the tension tightening your features.

"What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You pursed your lips, pulling your hands away from his face, taking a small step back. The frown on his face deepened as you wrung your fingers together, suddenly feeling more like the fragile sixteen-year-old girl you appeared to be, rather than the 500-year-old vampire you truly were.

The weight of centuries, of the secret you had carried, pressed down on you, and for the first time, you felt vulnerable in front of him.

"I need to tell you something," you said, your voice calm, though laced with an emotion that made Aemond's concern grow. "Something you deserve to know."

His brow furrowed, the exhaustion from the day's troubles falling away as his full attention shifted to you. "What is it?" he asked, his voice lowering, gentle yet urging.

Your heart raced, every instinct within you warring between the need to protect him from the truth and the desire to finally be honest with the man you loved. You swallowed hard, steeling yourself to strip away the facade you had maintained for so long. "I am not who you think I am."

His face hardened with confusion. "What is that supposed to mean?" His voice remained steady, though there was a coldness lurking beneath it, a shield against the unknown you were about to reveal.

You took a deep breath, summoning the strength you needed to face him. "I am not just some noblewoman from The Reach, Aemond. I am something... much older. Far older than you could ever imagine."

Aemond’s frown deepened, the flicker of frustration growing behind his eye. "Speak plainly," he commanded, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

You flinched at the harshness in his tone. You had seen him this way with others, but it had never been directed at you. "Do you not wonder why, after all these years, I still look the same? No signs of aging, no wear from time? You've known me for half a decade, yet I have not changed." You forced your hands to stop trembling as you met his gaze head-on.

He stared at you, confusion settling over his features. "What are you saying?" His voice was laced with skepticism.

With a deep, steadying breath, you took the plunge. "I am dead, Aemond. I have been for centuries. Cursed to walk this world forever."

Aemond’s eye searched yours, disbelief etched into his features. "I am in no mood for jests," he bit out, taking a step closer, towering over you as if trying to intimidate you into admitting a falsehood.

"This is not a jest!" you snapped, your frustration boiling over. Your eyes shut tightly as you summoned the ancient power within, letting the vampire in you rise to the surface.

When you opened them again, they burned a deep, blood-red, and the veins beneath pulsed with a dark hunger. You bared your fangs, your expression one of reluctant resignation. You hadn't wanted to reveal this part of yourself to him—your true nature—but there was no other way.

His breath caught in his throat, and for a brief moment, there was nothing but silence. He stood frozen, his usual confidence shaken by what he saw before him.

You watched as his eye flickered between disbelief and fascination. Aemond, the man who feared nothing, stared at you as though seeing a ghost. "How… how is this possible?" His voice, though quiet, was no longer cold.

"I’ve lived for centuries," you whispered, stepping closer to him again. "Long before you were born, I walked this earth, cursed by immortality, carrying the weight of endless time. And now, I have found you… and love you, despite all the years I’ve lived without it." Your words hung in the air, vulnerable, as you searched his face for understanding.

Aemond stood still, his silence stretching out like an eternity. His expression, usually carved from stone, revealed the whirlwind of emotions stirring within him. His eye, once sharp and calculating, seemed to flicker between disbelief and contemplation. He reached out, his hand almost grazing the soft skin of your cheek, but then, as if burned by the very thought, he withdrew, his fingers curling into a fist.

You blinked, taken aback. As your vampire features faded—your eyes returning to their original hue, your fangs retracting—the weight of the moment pressed upon your chest. The silence between you became suffocating, your heart thundering in your ears. You watched as Aemond slowly turned away from you, his body stiff with tension.

"Aemond, where are you going?" you asked, panic creeping into your voice, your hands trembling slightly at your sides.

He did not answer, his gaze fixed on the door as he strode toward it with purposeful steps. Desperation surged within you, and before he could disappear into the corridor, you reached out, your hand gently grasping his arm, trying to anchor him to you. "Aemond," you murmured, your voice soft but pleading.

He pulled his arm from your grasp, his back still turned to you, his voice low and strained. "I’m going for a ride. I need to clear my mind."

The weight of his words struck you like a blow, and your heart ached as you watched him walk away, his retreating form leaving you in a state of disbelief. You took a step forward, your voice rising in desperation, "Aemond, this is your room!"

But he didn’t stop. He didn’t turn back. The door closed behind him, the sound echoing through the chamber, leaving you standing alone in the dim light, the ache of rejection settling deep in your bones.

You retreated to your chambers, unable to bear the suffocating weight of Aemond’s presence lingering in every corner of his room. The faint scent of him—fire, steel, and something uniquely his—clung to your skin like an unforgiving ghost. It was too much. The emptiness within you, that hollow ache, grew deeper with every breath you took.

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring blankly at the wall, feeling the familiar suffocation of your existence. Who needed Niklaus and his wrath when you had the power to destroy everything you held dear all on your own? The truth had slipped from your lips, and now Aemond—someone you had dared to love—was gone, at least for now.

For a brief, fleeting moment, you entertained the thought of running. Disappearing into the shadows, as you had done countless times before. You could vanish into the night, leave King’s Landing behind, and become a ghost once more. But you knew all too well that the pain would follow you, as it always did.

In a century’s time, you thought bitterly, Aemond, Helaena, this entire bloody war would be nothing but dust. Ashes of a life long gone. You would still be there—eternal, unchanging, a cursed soul trapped in time. Immortality was a cruel gift, and even after centuries, you still carried the scars of your undying existence.

Your mind wandered to your family. You knew that if you truly ran, you would inevitably find your way back to them. To Niklaus, Rebekah, Elijah and Kol. But the thought of it twisted your gut.

Klaus would without a doubt punish you for abandoning him, for daring to escape his grasp. You could already imagine the cold sting of the dagger piercing your heart, the darkness swallowing you as he locked you away for centuries, just as he had done to Finn.

But perhaps, the treacherous voice echoed once more in the recesses of your mind, you deserve it.

Those words clung to you, heavy as lead, even as exhaustion finally took hold. Sleep found you, mercifully dreamless, offering a brief escape from the storm of thoughts and guilt that weighed on your immortal soul. Yet it was a fleeting reprieve.

When you stirred, the warmth of the sun bathed your face, coaxing you gently from your slumber. A faint frown formed as the comforting light was suddenly interrupted. You blinked, your eyes adjusting to the dimness, and when they fully opened, your heart stuttered at the sight before you.

Aemond stood silently by the window, his figure bathed in the half-light of morning, his expression unreadable. His single violet eye was locked on you, studying you with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. He was as still as a statue, watching over you as if you were some rare, dangerous creature he couldn't decide whether to approach or flee from.

You sat up slowly, your chest tightening as you met his gaze. The raw emotion lingering between you both was palpable, almost suffocating. He looked like a man on the edge, torn between the feelings that raged within him.

"Aemond..." you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure of what to say, unsure of where this conversation would lead.

He didn’t move, his eye still fixed on you. The cold, calculating prince you had come to know so well was gone, replaced by something far more vulnerable, far more dangerous. It was Aemond at his rawest—stripped of the layers of control he usually cloaked himself in.

“If you are dead, do you really sleep?" His question broke the silence, his voice quiet yet probing, as though trying to grasp the reality of what you had confessed.

You hesitated, then spoke softly, trying to keep the moment from shattering, "I can still sleep. I feel exhaustion and hunger like anyone else."

Aemond’s gaze was unwavering, even as he stepped closer. His presence seemed to fill the room, the silence between you growing heavier with the weight of everything unsaid.

"Where did you go?" you asked, uncertainty creeping into your voice.

"I flew atop Vhagar," he replied, his tone softer now, though his words were edged with the same confusion and hurt that mirrored your own. "When I returned back to my chambers, you were gone."

Your eyes fell to the bed, your voice barely a murmur. "I didn’t think you wished me to be there when you returned."

Aemond's expression tightened, and for the first time, his control wavered. "I thought you had left. Just as you did when I was a boy." His words were laced with hurt, and your heart ached at the memory of the boy he had once been.

"I wanted to run," you whispered, the admission tumbling from your lips before you could stop it. "But I couldn’t. Not this time."

His hand reached out, brushing some of your hair from your face, his touch hesitant but deliberate. His gaze softened, though his pain still lingered. "Why?" His voice, when it came, was a soft rasp, betraying none of the rage or hurt you had feared.

Instead, it was quiet, as though the weight of what he was asking was too much for him to bear aloud. "Why didn't you tell me?"

You could feel your heart breaking all over again. “I wanted to protect you,” you answered, your voice thick with the truth of your words. “I thought—if you knew what I am, you would look at me differently. Fear me, perhaps. Hate me."

He flinched, ever so slightly. "And now? What do you think I feel now?"

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. "I don't know," you confessed, your voice trembling with the weight of centuries of fear and self-loathing.

Aemond’s gaze softened, as he stepped drifted down. His fingers grazed your cheek, warm and rough, grounding you in the present, as his thumb gently brushed the edge of your jaw. “For me to trust you again,” his voice was quiet but resolute, “you need to tell me everything.”

His words pierced through your guarded heart. There was no turning back now, no more hiding. The weight of your past—the centuries of blood and pain—pressed heavily upon you, but this time, you were willing to share that burden.

You looked up into his single violet eye, nodding as you whispered, “What do you wish to know?”

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#aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x you #the originals #mikaelson #hotd x reader #vampire!reader

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night-night-stories-before-bed · 3 months ago

Text

Don’t take my sunshine away.

Part 2.

Warning; angst, grief, mental instability, mention of murder past and future.

Pairing; Batman/Male Reader (Established)

Note; I couldn't resist and had to make a second part. I will also have a third coming!

Summary; Even if it's been months, Jason is still on your mind and your grief is still drowning you. Yet, Superman found a way to make it worse until you snapped again and decided to give the Man of Steel a taste of the Joker’s medicine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Batcave felt colder than usual as you sat next to Bruce. A little shiver ran down your back and you felt Bruce put his cloak on you. You smiled at him as he kissed your forehead and you squeezed his hand, trying to show your husband you were fine. Even if you weren't.

Jason was still on your mind. Every minute, every second of the day haunting you and his literal last word echoing in your head. There was the anger, the pure rage that sometimes hit you like a tsunami coming from nowhere, leaving you shaking and ready to destroy everything. Amiss everything, Bruce and Dick had been your rock, just like you were theirs. You probably wouldn't have survived Jason’s death if it wasn't for them.

Dick was coming at least once a week and stayed two days, going out at night with Bruce. It was probably the only good thing coming from losing Jason; Dick and Bruce were getting closer once more. The tension between them was still there and they often came back from patrol arguing, but it always made you smile. They looked so much like father and son, just like when Dick was still Robin.

Your eyes turned to the computer, staring at the time. It was very early morning and Dick wouldn't be here until at least noon, but until then you still had visitors.

Clark and J’onn had come to talk, in the name of the whole Justice League. When Bruce told you about it, you guessed the reason immediately; Batman hadn't worked as much with the League since Robin’s death. Not only was Bruce not in the right state of mind, but he also didn't want to leave you alone in Gotham. He also knew you would be way too worried for him, your nerves still fragile. In his words, you were like a ticking time bomb ready to explode and he wasn't wrong.

When Bruce got up, you knew your guests were there. You turned your chair to face them, keeping Bruce’s cloak wrapped around you. You smiled at J’onn when the green Martian waved at you and returned his salute. You knew that J’onn understood your pain, he who had also lost two children and his wife. Clark nodded toward you and you did the same, but you saw something in his eyes and you knew things were going to go South.

You watched the three men walk away and then turned back to the screen. After a few clicks, you acceded to the camera feeds and enjoyed them. Gotham at night was an open asylum, but now it seemed so calm without a trace of crime. Well, nothing that required Batman anyway.

Until you heard Bruce raising his voice, that caught your attention because your husband was always calm. Frowning, you silently walked toward them, trying to overhear what was going on.

- “You cannot be serious Clark. That a low blow.” The voice of J’onn said.

- “That not… I didn’t mean you were going to cheat on your husband!” Superman tried to defend himself. “I meant it would be understandable if you were… you know going to divorce him and get someone more stable.”

You froze, heart dropping in your chest as you felt tears filling your eyes. You never expected Clark to think so low, so badly of you. You squeezed Bruce’s cloak in your fist, feeling your bones shaking.

- “That doesn’t sound better, Clark. He lost his son, his child. That something you can’t even understand the pain of.” Bruce said, venom in his voice.

- “He is trying to make you a murderer!” Clark replied as sharp.

- “Look me in the eyes and tell me the Joker is better alive than death!”

- “You two calm down. Fighting like that won’t do anyone any good. We need to think about his well being too. He is still grieving just like you Bruce. No one should bury a child not lose them like you two did.” J’onn interrupted and you could imagine him placing himself between the two men.

- “If we need to think about his well being then maybe he would be better placed.”

Superman’s reply was like a slap in the face, making you take a few steps back. Biting your lips, you almost ran away, not waiting to know what Bruce was going to say or do. You trusted your husband, knew he would have your back and never would betray you. Yet it didn’t take the pain of those words away.

You left the cave, going back to the manor. Somewhere in the between you lost Bruce’s cloak, but didn’t notice it until you found yourself in front of Jason’s bedroom door. You rested your hand on the handle, hesitating to enter. As much as Clark's words had stung, there was a part of truth in them. Your grief was holding back Bruce and you hadn't made much progress since that horrible night.

But you just couldn't.

Couldn't stop seeing Jason’s beaten body covered in his own blood.

Couldn't stop hearing his last word, him calling you Papa for the last time.

You broke down crying, pressing your forehead against the door and covering your mouth not wishing to be heard. Never again would you hear Jason make a bad joke or see him running to his motorcycle to follow Bruce’s Batmobile. Over were the days you two would pass working on his motorcycle or shopping to find pieces.

There would never come another evening watching a match just the two of you while Bruce was on patrol.

You weren't a father anymore. The Joker had taken the title from you like he did so many others and there was nothing you could do against it. Superman was preventing you and Bruce from getting true justice, stopping any attempt at killing the Joker. It was impossible for you to get better, his presence in your city an eternal reminder of what was taken from you.

As long as the Joker lived you would never accept Jason’s death. If only he could die or disappear!

Disappear.

You stopped crying, tears still rolling down your cheeks as you bit down on one of your fingers as the thought made its way into your mind. It was disgusting and horrible, but also terribly dangerous. Yet it was the best response to the situation and you hated yourself for thinking about doing it.

As Bruce Wayne’s husband, you were as known and as influential as him. His money was yours he kept saying, letting do as much charity as you wanted. After years of being married and living in Gotham, you did as much good as you could for your city. And it attracted friends who were as influential and powerful as you. So yes that terrible thought could be made true with only a few calls.

You took a deep breath and pushed yourself away from Jason’s door. You knew what you had to do even if Bruce was going to be mad at you. It was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

It was only hours later that you heard Bruce enter his office and approach you. You stood still in front of the window watching the sun rise while drinking a cup of coffee. Neither of you said a word. Bruce simply walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your shoulder. You knew he knew you overheard them. Maybe it was your red and puffy eyes, maybe because you weren't in the cave anymore.

- “Clark is pretty pissed off with your stun.” Bruce said, resting his chin on your shoulder, his lips brushing against your ear. “I understand why you did it, but you should have talked to me first.”

Or he knew what you did…

You scoffed and leaned in your spouse’s embrace, closing your eyes for only a moment.

Your calls had worked and everyone was just in a hurry to make it happen. Everyone wanted the Joker gone and convincing Metropolis Asylum to take him in had not been hard. Especially after saying that he wouldn't be a threat with Superman always around. Metropolis Asylum was avant-garde in terms of technology and security and it wouldn't be filled with corrupted employees.

- “If we can't kill him to avenge Jason, we shouldn't have to deal with him at all.” You said with a sigh. “Clark can take care of him and have a taste of the Joker’s medicine. Besides, as your friend he can do that service for you.”

- “You still should have talked to us, me, first.”

- “No, because y'all would have refused and I just can't do it anymore Bruce. I just can't. He is always on my mind, laughing because he knows we can't do shit to him. I have to live in the same city as the murderer of my son and it's driving me nuts!”

Bruce tightened his arms around you as you sobbed, hands grabbing your cup so hard you expected it to crack at any second now. You felt Bruce pressing his forehead against your head as he whispered soft words you could barely hear. It took you a few minutes to calm down and your husband gently dried your cheeks.

- “I am not angry, not at all.”

- “I am so sorry Bruce. I keep hurting and dragging you down with me.” You sighed, defeated. “Clark is right. You deserve so much better.”

- “Nonsense. I promised to love you in health and in sickness, in joy and grief. I couldn't wish for someone better than you.”

You chuckled, finally having a small smile. Those words were like a balm to your broken soul. It has always been you two against the world and you were happy that Bruce still felt the same after all those years. There was nothing he wouldn't do for you just like you got him. You two went through so many hardship only to come out closer.

- “I spoke with J’onn and he offered his guidance if you would have him. He is ready to share his own experience with losing is family and be here for you.” Bruce said, gently letting go of you before he rested his hands on your shoulders.

You trusted J’onn with your and Bruce’s life and mind. Maybe you should accept since there was no one else around you who could understand such pain. There was no one else around you who had lost children after all. Parents? Yes. Kids? Just J’onn.

You nodded, accepting the offer and Bruce kissed you.

- “I’ll let J’onn know you accepted. He will be glad to hear that.” Bruce said, resting his hand on your cheek. “I also kicked Clark out. He won't come back until he excuses himself for his words to you.”

- “Bruce!” You groaned and rolled your eyes.

- “No, Clark is in time-out until you actually forgive him. I don't care if he expressed himself badly, he still said those words and hurt you.”

You smiled, truly, looking Bruce in the eyes. What a sweet man your husband was.

- “Thank you.”

- “You are welcome. Alfred made your favorite breakfast and its ready.”

- “Are you…”

- “Of course, I am going to eat with you.”

Bruce led you out of his office, one arm wrapped around your waist. After months you finally felt like a weight was being lifted off your shoulders. The Joker wasn't in Gotham, wasn't Bruce’s problem anymore and you didn't have to fear something similar would happen to Dick. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't justice, but you knew you could truly begin to heal now.

The hole and void in your heart would never be filled, but as long as you had Bruce by your side, it would never consume you.

#male reader #x male reader #angst #x reader #reader #batman x male reader #batman x reader #batman #bruce wayne x male reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #dcu #dc comics #dc universe #robin #jason todd #dick grayson #fanfic

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