#stoney brown x reader

[altrodent]

stoney from encino man fanfic when? please? begging atp ‼️‼️ /nf /lh

Honey Bun

Pairing: Stoney x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, Stoney just being (sweetly) honest, teasing

Summary: After finding Link, and making him well known with the ‘modern’ trends, Stoney throws a party. And you, being his guest of honor, get some alone time with him.

A hand slides a note on your desk, as your boring science teacher drones on about evolution. You look up and see Stoney smiling at you, signaling for you to open the note. It reads “Dearest friend-a-rino, I cordially invite you to the sweetest ass party with the one and only Frosty Link! Please say yes, it’s gunna be boring w/o you. Loviest of Loves, Stoney <3” you giggle as you read the note, a little too loudly “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?” Stoney wraps you in his arms dramatically, gasping “Don’t ask questions like that, you know I don’t share!” He smiles with that stupidly cute face of his, the teacher sighs “…Just- just pay attention please. I don’t need you bringing their grade down Stoney…” he slowly turns back to the board as Stoney sits down, looking at me for an answer on his invitation. He whispers “Sooo? You gonna go or are you gonna make me all sad?” He pouts, you smile back at him “Course I’ll go” He puts his hands on his face gasping in ‘surprise’. “Stoney!” The teacher yells “Sorry, mister…” he giggles. You don’t really notice it, but he still looks at you… in a very loving way.

Stoney’s yard is filled to the brim with streamers, bright lights and a very strong fragrance of booze. You make your way through the heated crowds before a pair of arms hug and lift you up in the air. You jump before they put you down, turning you around to reveal- “I’m so glad you made it! I was so worried you weren’t gonna show” -Stoney. “I wouldn’t miss one of your parties, Stoney!” He smiles giddily, “come with me!” He doesn’t ask, as he takes your hand and leads you to the emptier back yard. “Sorry, I didn’t like them looking at you in there.” You tilt your head in confusion “what?” He rubs his arm “Sorry I just- I just don’t like it when people look at you the way I do.” You smile, still slightly confused “Well, how are they looking at me?” He dances around you, “Wow, they look so attractive, mhm, mhm, I love them, they look so fineee.” He eventually makes his way back to face you again. “That’s how.” He laughs stomping in place “Oh? Really? And you say they look at me the way you do?” He thinks “well, not exactly, because I know they’re not worthy for you… I might be though” he bites his lip before grabbing your hands and making you dance with him. You laugh as he dances with you, he sighs “I just don’t get why you gotta look so attractive all the time, it’s annoying.” He pouts as he twirls you around, his comment brings a slight blush to your face “…you think I’m attractive?” He stops in his tracks “Uh, have you seen yourself? You are just absolutely stunning… god, and see that’s just it. I feel like the hottest people just don’t know they’re hot…” he brushes your hair out of your face, cupping your cheeks after. “…Stoney, you really mean it?”

He nods “Yeah, and while I’m being honest, I’ve super had a little thing for you, but I really couldn’t squeeze it into a conversation before… until now~!” He giggles, as he holds you close to him “Oh, Stoney, that’s super sweet.” He pulls back enough to look at you “Says you, Sugar! You’re sweeter than a honey bun… now I’m hungry.” You giggle as he looks into your eyes “you look tasty though!” He beings to pepper soft kisses onto your face, making you laugh even more, causing him to smile even more “mwah! Just look at you, you tasty thing!” He presses one more kiss on your forehead before leaning into you again “Stoney, you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” He chuckles softly “always, besides, if I didn’t I wouldn’t get to see that beautiful smile of yours now would I?” He leans back holding his face close to yours “I promise… just- please give me a chance… and I’ll make you this happy forever, until we’re both old and gross and yelling at people to get off our lawn” Stoney smiles, caressing your cheek “Please…” your eyes almost seemingly swell with the happiest of tears as his words flow. You nod, smiling “Stoney, how could I ever pass up the chance to be with the best guy I’ve ever met…?” He smiles brightly, his lips finally meeting yours. You can feel him smile just as brightly as his hands move from your face and down to your hips. The kiss is full of long awaited love, that he just professes to you through your connected lips. And as all other good things, the kiss ends, as he rests his forehead against yours. “You have officially made me the happiest man in the universe, Sugar… and I won’t let you down.” He smiles, and from then on all you can feel for him is a warm and loving passion for the man you’ve come to known as Stoney.

~

(A/N): I hope you enjoyed! I’m trying to ram through this writers block right now, thank you for the request! 🩷

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Crazy For You - Stoney 'Stanley' Brown X GN Reader

Title: Crazy For You

Stoney 'Stanley' Brown X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's mother, Dave (Mentioned), Link (Mentioned), Mrs. Freadrick (OC) (Mentioned), Robyn (Mentioned)

Requested By: @zachizthegoat!

WC: 3,478

Warnings: Reader has a mother, flirting, banter, nicknames, prom, Reader's attire is not described (wear whatever you want), very small bit of suggestiveness, Reader is given flowers, brief mention of spiked punch, perfectly choreographed dance, based off the song; Crazy For You by Madonna, and fluff

Stoney let out a sigh, clearing his throat as he waited in the hall, standing by his locker. He had asked you in math class to meet him at his locker a few minutes before lunch let out. And now, Stoney normally wasn't normally a nervous person, he was usually a pretty confident, wacky guy. But, right now he was fidgeting with his fingers and turning his head at every little noise in hopes to see you walking down the hall with that perfect smile of yours. You had been friends with him and Dave since freshman year, and ever since meeting you, Stoney was hooked; line and sinker.

Stoney was pretty obvious that he was interested in you, and you seemed to have noticed. You and Stoney would end up flirting every time you guys hung out; which would also always annoy Dave. And yet, nothing really came out of it. But Stoney really liked you, more than anyone else, really. He was crazy for you, if you wanted, he’d walk all the way to the ‘Food 7 Mart’, just to buy you a burrito; and split it fifty-fifty with you.

But, seriously, you were perfect. He loved the way your hair framed your face, the way your eyes lit up when you told him about the newest movie you saw, and how you’d bite your lip when concentrating on something. And you understood him and his weird sayings, which was awesome. You were so understanding and sweet. You were always there for him if he needed someone to talk to or just hang out with, and you never judged him; as most people at the school and in the small town did the opposite of.

Stoney, though, was so stuck in his head, thinking about you, that he didn't even hear you come up and stand beside him. His eyes stared down at the floor tiles, thinking about the time you shared a roll of SweetTarts with him, when he finally recognized your beat-up black Converse next to his, only then did he snap his head up to meet your gaze with his; his curls bouncing as he did so.

You gave him your stunning smile, one hand holding the strap of your black, canvas backpack as you looked at him expectedly, "So..." You began, tilting your head slightly to the left, "You told me you needed to tell me something." Your voice sounded hopeful, yet curious as Stoney gave you a sheepish smile. “And you sounded pretty… I don’t know, anxious…” You added, tilting your head slightly. This whole scenario surprised you slightly, for all the years you've known Stoney, you'd never seen him so nervous. He was always the self-assured one of your tiny friend group; the voice of reason. Seeing him fumble a bit was something that took you aback.  

"Well, I actually have a question for you, babe." He corrected, clearing his throat; the little nickname he had for you, which he gave to you back in freshman year, always made you smile widen ever-so-slightly and your cheeks burn. "I was just wondering if you'd like to go to Prom with me? And maybe after we can swing by and wheeze the jui-ce." He asked nonchalantly, a huge weight being lifted off his shoulders as he said the last part; almost as if he was having any other conversation. He let a grin then spread across his face, which did help calm his nerves slightly.

You grinned back at Stoney and you couldn't help but let out a little giggle, "I'd love to go to Prom with you, Stoney." You replied, your stomach filling up with butterflies as you mentally cheered; you had been hoping Stoney would ask you. "And I'd love to wheeze the juice with you as well." You teased, giggling again when the tips of Stoney's ears turned a deep shade of pink. He tried once more to just brush it all off and act like he wasn't that affected by your angelic laughter, but he was; he always was.

"Well, I can pick you up at seven,” He finally spoke, his hand coming up to lightly scratch at his cheek, feeling the room heat up to an almost scorching degree; was the school hot, or was it just you? "We'd have to walk to the school, my scooter is broken," He then brought up, feeling bad but you only shook your head lightly, raising both your hands to grasp the lapels of his blue denim jacket, pressing the fabric down and smoothing it over.

"Don't worry your cute curly head about that," You spoke softly, the smile still on your face as you looked up into his honey-brown eyes from the colorful patterns that lay on the fabric; your hands resting on his shoulders, "Just relax, we’ll just have more time to hang out then." You reassured, squeezing his shoulders gently before letting go of him. “Plus, we can get some steps in.” You joked, as Stoney gave you his trademark smile.

Nodding, his curls bounced with him, "See you Saturday, babe."

You just let out a small huff, your eyes narrowed playfully as you tugged on the hanging purple fabric of the bandana wrapped around his temple, "See you Saturday, Stone." You answered back before passing him and walking away.

Watching as you walked down the hall, Stoney couldn't stop his grin from growing, and once you turned the corner and were out of sight, Stoney let out a small cheer. Doing a small victory dance before he went in search of Dave for the last five minutes of lunch to tell him the good news.

~~~

You brushed down your attire, you turned every which way as you looked into the mirror. It was nice, ignoring the anxiety, you felt very confident in it. Fixing your hair again and double-checking that you had everything you could possibly need, you heard a knock on your open bedroom door. You looked up at the mirror, your hands fidgeting with the soft fabric of your clothing as your eyes met your mother's. She stared at you, with a small smile on her face, making you feel a little bit better.

"You look wonderful, honey," She softly spoke as you turned round to face her, "You chose well." She complimented, reaching forward and taking hold of your hands gently, stroking them with the pads of her thumbs. The gentle gesture helped calm your nerves greatly.

You smiled and nodded your head, "Thank you, Mom." You answered, taking your hands out of her and clasping your hands together before you.

Your mother nodded before she raised an eyebrow, a small grin on her face, "You going with that Stanley kid?"

You felt your face heat up at her question as you nodded, "Yeah, Stoney asked me Friday," You answered once more, and your mother nodded. She knew the young man ever since you became friends with him and David, you wouldn't stop talking about him some days. She knew how much you cared about him. Her eyes softened, watching as you stood there with a proud smile on your face. Your excitement radiates through the air around you.

"Well," She let out a sigh, "I'm happy for you two. He knows to bring you back at ten, right?" She asked and you nodded, the anxiety you were once feeling dissipating to a point that you were able to speak without feeling your words trip on the tip of your tongue. "Alright, then," She paused, thinking over what she wanted to say next, "Be safe on the way home, yeah?" Her voice came out almost teasing and you rolled your eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, people also drive at night. I don’t want you to get run over - and no funny business.” She added, shaking a finger at you half-jokingly.

"I’ll be fine, Mom," You said bashfully, "And we’re just friends.”

Your mother just stared at you, giving you an all-knowing look, "Really? Friends don't ask each other to Prom." She spoke and you just let out a small chuckle.

"Actually, they do, Mom," You corrected, only to see that she was just playing with you, making you let out a sigh of your own, "He'll be here soon, I should-"

The sound of the doorbell interrupted you, and your mother couldn't help but smile before pulling you into a hug. "I'll see you soon. You two have fun."

You nodded before you headed down the stairs and to the door. Letting out a shaky breath, you felt your nerves bubble as you reached out for the doorknob. Taking another deep breath, you opened the door and saw Stoney waiting for you at the door. You were sure your heart skipped several beats seeing him. He looked like his perfect usual self, dressed in flared pants, a fancy button-up over a white shirt, and a purple scarf. You felt a bit overdressed, but that didn't seem to matter to Stoney cause once he saw you, his jaw dropped. You just smiled, feeling your cheeks warm up as Stoney ran his gaze up and down your form.

"Woah," He breathed out quietly and you chuckled, "You look gorgeous, babe." He spoke sincerely and you blushed at his compliment, you almost thought he'd wolf howl at you like he did most of the time at school but tonight seemed different.

"You look great too, Stone." You answered, noticing that Stoney had a hand behind his back. Raising an eyebrow, you spoke again, “You hidin’ something, Stone?” You asked, watching as his eyes lit up in realization and he brought his arm out to reveal the small bouquet of what looked like wildflowers.

“Oh! These are for you,” He answered, offering the small bouquet out to you as you couldn’t help but let your smile widen. 

You took the flowers in your hands, pretending not to have noticed when your fingers brushed against his, “These are beautiful, Stoney.” Your smile then turned into a small smirk as you gave Stoney a look, “Did you get these from Mrs. Freadrick's yard?” You asked, referring to the sweet old lady who lived just down the road from Stoney's house.

Stoney let go of the breath he'd been holding, smiling sheepishly as he nodded, "Uh, yeah."

You only shook your head, letting out a small laugh, “Well, thank you nonetheless, Stone.” Stoney gave you a toothy smile, which made your heart race as you let out a sigh. “I’ll quickly put these in some water.” You added, rushing inside to find a vase. Stoney looked around the entrance of the home, taking note of the pictures hung in nice frames around the room. He hummed some sort of tune as he looked around, his eyes then landing on you as you exited the kitchen. “Alright, let’s head out. Don’t want to miss any of the good songs.” You joked, grabbing your small bag from the table near the door.

“Alright! Party time!” Stoney cheered, making you laugh as you headed back to the door with him. Turning at the door, Stoney raised a hand to the side of his mouth, “Have a good night, Mrs. L/N!” He called out to your mom, making you grab him arm and pull him out of the house.

Closing the front door behind the two of you as you stepped out. “You’re killing me, Stoney.” You looked up at him with a smile, as Stoney offered you his arm and you took it, wrapping your hand around his bicep.

Stoney only looked down at you, wiggling his eyebrows, “Softly, I hope.”

~~~

The beginning of the walk was nice, quiet, and peaceful; you really enjoyed it. "I hope you're not cold," Stoney then spoke up, gaining your attention. "I'd offer my shirt," He gestured to the button-up with his free hand, looking down at you to gauge your reaction only for you to shake your head.

"I'm good, but thank you, Stoney." You replied, glancing up at him with a smile.

Stoney couldn't help but smile back, "If you say so, babe. Just know the offer is always on the table, ahh-wooooooo!" Okay, there was the Stoney you knew and loved. You couldn't stop the laughter bubbling inside of you, as you tried to stifle it, which resulted in Stoney chuckling along as well, his smile widening before he spoke up once more, "Do you think they'll have the four basic food groups?" He asked, and you shrugged your shoulders.

"Maybe, I don't think they'll have burritos or Milk Duds there though," You commented and Stoney let out a hum, nodding his head slowly, "But they'll probably have punch," You suggested, looking up at Stoney who was staring at you, "What?" You questioned, tilting your head slightly to the side as you waited for his answer.

Stoney shook his head slightly, tsking, "That's not part of the four basic food groups, babe," He answered before throwing a hand in the air abruptly, "But! We're going to wheeze the jiu-ce after this fiasco, so I can reteach you then." He trailed off, right as you got to the school.

~~~

Though the gym was dark, colorful lights made it possible to see as the music from the band played loud enough for it to fill your ears. You held onto Stoney, tightening your hold on his arm as you entered, feeling anxious once more. But, Stoney was quick to distract you, steering you right over to the hopefully not spiked punch bowl. As you took sips of your punch, your eyes landed on Dave, Link, and Robyn, already dancing on the dance floor. You watched Link boogie down and turned to Stoney, watching as he bobbed his head to the beat and shimmied a bit in his spot; his eyes narrowed in on the dancefloor. 

You knew he wanted to go over there, have a good time and you didn't want to stop him. Finishing your drink, you began to feel more and more comfortable before turning back to Stoney. "Hey, you can go and dance. I'll be alright here." You spoke, his chocolate brown eyes meeting yours. 

Stoney looked at you, eyebrows raised as he glanced over to the dance floor and back at you, uncertainly, "Are you sure, babe? Don't want to leave you hanging."

Your brows furrowed as you shook your head, "Don't worry about it. Go and have some fun, you deserve it. And besides," You added when you noticed Stoney's worried expression, raising your hand to let your fingers gently brush his cheek, brushing back some curls, "You can save the slow dance for me." You teased, causing Stoney to chuckle lightly, and you found yourself smiling, glad you had put a small bit of levity back into things.

"Thanks," Stoney muttered as he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering there for a moment, "See ya later, ba-be." He trailed off, almost song-like before he then slid into the dance circle, masterfully joining Link in his dance.

You watched with a fond smile, unable to take your eyes off him as he helped Dave and Link lead the dance mob. You felt your heartbeat increase, your breathing a little irregular, as you watched him sway with the crowd, dancing with ease as if he belonged there. You felt your stomach grow tight, and your mouth growing dry as your gaze lingered on his strong, lean build. Your eyes followed every move he made as he moved gracefully across the floor. Yeah, you were definitely in love with Stoney. It was impossible not to be.

Before you knew it, the band finished their song, and another fun song came on. Robyn noticed you on the sidelines and dragged you in, swinging hers and your arms together to the beat. You did your best to let go and have fun, letting the music flow through you. Another three songs followed before finally the slow song echoed throughout the speakers; one that you recognized. Other students and their dates found each other on the dance floor, arms around waists and necks as they swayed. You looked around the gym, unable to spot Stoney at all until you felt someone tap your shoulder. Turning, you almost sighed with relief as Stoney gave you his charming grin, offering out his hand to you.

"I believe I owe you a dance," He spoke and you took his hand without question as you both walked towards the dance floor. His hand fit perfectly in yours and you couldn't help but feel a tingle run down your spine at his warm touch. 

On the dance floor, Stoney slowly placed his hands respectably on your waist, your arms going and wrapping around his neck; following the other couples' movements. As the song continued, Stoney's moves became a lot smoother; it wasn't long before he was leading you in small circles. The song, a favorite of yours, 'Crazy For You' by Madonna played, making you smile lightly, your fingers moving with a mind of their own to twist into Stoney’s curls. You felt Stoney's thumbs gently brushing over your waist, soothing you yet also leaving goosebumps in their place, and allowing yourself to take a small step closer to the weasel.

Looking into his eyes, you realized he was looking straight at you, a light flush dusting his cheeks as his thumb still softly brushed over the fabric of your attire; the warmth of his hands seeping into you. Your mind went blank for a moment, as if you couldn't think properly, trying to focus on the beat of the song and the slight sway Stoney was doing. But all you could think about was him, and how he made you feel safe, cared for… Loved. How he could calm you down and even make you flush just by being near. As you kept on dancing, you couldn’t help but look at the beautiful man in front of you. Your eyes drifted over his face, from the dimples in his cheeks to the small smile that played on his lips.

Stoney felt like he was dreaming, watching you dance with him made his heart race. You were so beautiful that it hurt, you were the definition of perfection; everything else fell away and he couldn't help but admire your beauty. Your smile was infectious, your laugh was melodic, and your eyes held his future. Even your fingers in his hair were hypnotic. There wasn't anything he wanted more than to spend the rest of his life with you by his side.

At the height of the music, even though it was still a slow song, Stoney abruptly twirled you out; surprising you and earning a giggle from you as you spun around. Once you came back to his side, he continued to surprise you as he dipped you low before slowly bringing you back up. You let out a breath, your chest heaving slightly as you stared up at Stoney with a smile. He did the same, reaching out with his hand to brush away a couple of stray hairs before he cupped your cheek.

You leaned into his palm and he leaned toward you, your lips nearly touching before your noses bumped together instead. The contact sent shivers down your spine, making your body temperature rise slightly. Your eyes fluttered closed as you felt his lips ghost over yours; moving against yours with such care and delicacy that you forgot all of the noise around you, only focused on Stoney and you. When he pulled away, your eyes opened slowly; fluttering. The corner of your lips turned upwards at the emotion in Stoney’s eyes, holding so much admiration and warmth. A flush crept its way onto your face as you continued to gaze into his chocolate-colored eyes; they were shining bright as they bore into your own.

Suddenly, he tilted his head back, letting out another wolf howl, immediately making you laugh; covering your mouth with your hand. Stoney looked back down at you, admiring how happy you looked, eyes closed and a huge smile on your face. The colorful lights hit you gracefully, casting soft shadows and highlighting your features perfectly; painting you in pinks, blues, and yellow. As if in slow-motion, he watched as you opened your eyes, calming down from your laughter; Stoney wondered if this was what love felt like. 

He grinned back at you, giving you a playful wink before he rested his forehead against yours. "Let's get outta here, yeah?" Stoney mumbled, and you gave him a nod in response; not trusting your voice. Taking your hand, waved goodbye to Dave, Link, and Robyn before leaving the gym and the school entirely to get your slushie.

[muntitled]

Broken Telephones

Ex!Jake x Fem!Reader | Jay x Fem!Reader

Summary: Despite Jay priding himself on being a good friend, he's done denying himself what belongs to him.

Warnings: Language, Obsession, Jealousy, toxicity, Ex Boyfriend's Best Friend to Lovers, Smut +18 (mdni), Squirting, Manhandling Ownership kink, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionist Kink, Dubious Consent, Angry Sex, Threats, Dom/Sub Themes, Hard Dom!Jay

Based on this request by @penny44224 . This gets really toxic, sorry, also I couldn't leave my baby Jake out of this, hope you like it <3

“What kind of party is this anyway?” You grumble from the passenger seat, your heart sinking behind the glittery confines of your tight collared shirt. Something so tight and so painfully provocative would never have come out of your own closet. You had Jake and his obscene budget to thank for that.

“The normal kind,” he says, “with drinking and sex and smoke-” before he's allowed to continue his blissful rambling, you interrupt Jake with a raise of your hand.

“Need I remind you that I have asthma?” With a firm hand on the steering wheel, Jake's eyes roll into the back of his head.

“I can't go.” You continue, “That's a health risk.”

“You haven't had an asthma attack since you were 6,” he deadpans, “Do not piss me off,”

It was difficult to do much of anything with a pounding heart and a stomach flooded with molten anxiety. What do people do at parties anyway? You've watched enough low budget teen Netflix dramas to know… nothing good.

"I don't think you understand the words leaving my mouth," The dwindling daylight leaves your bones rattling with anxiety. You were supposed to be watching the sun setting over the river skyline from your dorm room. Your notes on autocracy in a Constitutional Monarchy, pending across the page in front of you, ready for submission Monday morning.

Instead, you find yourself arrested in a leather seat, in a shameless chequered miniskirt. Your exposed thighs are sticky with evening humidity. This is not how your evening was supposed to go.

"I need to be studying-"

You're battling fiercely with a Mr Morale tune oozing through the Jeep's speakers while your best friend remains blissfully unaware, rapping along as if your concerns were null and void.

Kendrick's voice was strong but yours was stronger. "Since I am an unwilling participant, this is technically kidnapping. You are illegally kidnapping me this very second. You are aware of that, yes?"

"Nonsense,” Jake chuckles, “I can't kidnap my ex girlfriend-” before you're able to rebut he quickly adds, “And I am aware that you're going to wake up one day realising your stupid ass wasted your college years studying." Jake shoots back while the chorus sails on without him. This was serious business if he took the time to ignore Kendrick's second verse. "I'm aware that in all our time in school you've done nothing but school. I'm also aware that I'm saving you from a life of complete and utter regret.” His big brown eyes narrow in the dark, and you are corralled into a shameful silence.

“Just don't try to sleep with me tonight-” you grumble under your breath.

“I'm a changed man,” he says, “I've only thought about fucking you only once this whole evening!”

“Oh god…” you shake your head slowly as the jeep assumes a safer speed in a residential enclosure. “These are rich people's palm trees, why am I seeing rich people's palm trees?"

"Because I got invited to an event that classifies the attendance of rich-people-palm-trees." His stoney visage cracks into a lazy, triumphant smirk.

“Rugby team.” Is all he says.

Your hand flies to the door handle, for what purpose specifically, remains an utter mystery. The car is still in motion so you did not have the intention of flinging the door open and hurling your body onto the biting tar underneath.

"Stop being so goddamn anxious all the time-”

“Jake, I don't even like Rugby-”

“No but you like me… and I like rugby… ergo…,” the car slows to a nauseating stop in the middle of a packed driveway.

"Let me rephrase that- Jake your friends hate me-"

"If this is about Jay again..."

"He's never liked me!" You huff, "Even when we were dating it's like he had it out for me or something!" Your shoulders are tense and Jake can't help but send a worried glance over. He ventures to lay his one hand on your thigh but stops himself, placing it instead on shoulder to rub out the knots there.

"You're making excuses. Jay hates everyone," he says, “I need you to forget about school for one night.” Jake's pep talk only succeeds in filling the void of your stomach with even more dread. “You think about dead politicians way too much for a 20 year old girl."

And that's how you end up in the backyard of a frat house as the third accessory of Jake and some unnamed girl. He has his arms wrapped around both your necks as he enters the party, like some glorified university replica of Hefner.

You know in this light, you appeared to be one of his girls, but the thought of weathering this party without Jake on standby filled you with unmistakable dread.

It was as if the soles of your feet were melting into the grass with each step you took towards the bonfire, even more so when you saw him already seated at the edge of a log, watching you approach with a smile that eases into an unimpressed frown. Jay's cup is held in mid-air as he watches you plop down beside him.

A single gold chain is tucked away behind a loose button up and suddenly, you wish to burrow into the ground underneath this log, away from the vulnerability of his gaze. You felt naked.

“You're not drinking.” Jongseong observes, glancing away from you and Jake's hand sliding over your hip bone.

“What’s in it?” You ask, eyes drifting over Jay's solo cup.

“Sugar, spice and everything nice,” he whispers back.

Beside you, Jake entertains the rest of his friends, his fingers rubbing unconsciously into your sides.

You don't seem at all impressed.

“What do you want me to say?” He asks with a slight deadpan, “That I put my love and affection into it? You're at frat house. This is probably 90% alcohol-”

“-And 10% mysterious drugs to roofie unsuspecting girls.” You conclude before making an elaborate show of pushing further into Jake's side. Jay doesn't like that one bit.

“If I wanted you to sleep with me,” his lips tickle your ear and you shiver, “I wouldn't need to get you high out of your mind to do it.”

Something in his words sounded vaguely like a promise.

“You'll just fall in line,” Jay said, “Like all the others.”

Before Jay could get another mind numbing word out, you're quickly standing from your post from beside Jake. “Coming here was a mistake. I'm Heading Home,”

Jake's hand tugs at yours as if prompting you to sit back down.

"Not after the game… C'mon, it'll be fun," you let Jake's words anchor you to the floor.

"Actually, Jake," Even under the moonlight you can spot a deep frown setting across his face, "I think I should go home. I've already had way too much to drink,"

"You've had 1 cup, my dear-”

"And a half," you clarify before shaking your head. ‘and your frjend is making me really fucking uncomfortable,’ you choose to leave those unspoken words unspoken.

You play with the string along the seam of your skirt, humming along to the Drake tune oozing out of the unseen speakers.

“Aww, you really don't wanna join our game?” Jay coos, looking up at you with an incriminating smirk as he clutches his heart as if you hurt him deeply.

“I'll pass.”

“Course you will,” he snickers. “Princess can't bear to stay away from her book too long, can she?’ It's that tone, that fucking that has you lowering

“What…” you swallow thickly, “What game?” you find yourself asking with a dignified huff as you plant your butt on the log in Between Jake and Jay once more. Your bones are rattling with unprocessed rage as Jake whispers, “broken telephone,”

He snickers, “just try to be as quiet as possible,- never thought I'd be saying those words to you of all people-” you sit at Jake's arm as the game begins with the first message travelling from Jungwon to Jungwon’s date. Unbeknownst to you, Jay has been zeroed in on your conversation with Jake all evening-his blood simmering at the sound of you and Jake whispering sweet nothings to each other like people who were still very much lovers.

His jaw clenched as he plants his steepled elbow on his knees, his hands hanging lazily in front of him as he tries to focus on playing the game and not the giggles exchanged between you and your supposed ex boyfriend.

Sunoo finally passes the message into Jay's right ear, a very clear and resounding- ‘there is nothing satanic about pineapple on pizza’- Jungwon’s attempt at absolution from an argument they had weeks ago. But instead of carrying this specific message over into your ear, subsequently bringing the game to a victorious end, he stops midway, watching your laugh aimed at the blackened night sky while Jake looks up at you with that expression that was very much not supposed to be reserved for ex's.

Jay decides to throw the game.

“Your turn,” Jay's voice is dripping in monotony, as if he couldn't be bothered to even talk to you, let alone play this game with you.

Your mouth falls open when he slithers his hand to the back of your neck, leading your head to his slightly parted lips until said lips are tickling your ear lobe. Your heart is sinking into the confines of your stomach and for the briefest moment, you fear the world might have stopped spinning as Jongseong carries his next words in your ear. Game be damned.

“First floor. Third door on the left.” His hand is still planted on the back of your neck as he whispers those words at you and you're immediately struck with the severity in his tone.

You weren't an idiot.

In fact you'd like to consider yourself quite smart.

You knew that whatever Jay confessed - or rather implied - was definitely not the contents of Jungwon’s intended message. A broken telephone indeed.

Still, coiling in your stomach is a confusing web of wired tension that needs to be snapped. All night, your banter with Jongseong had been laced with something far more frustrating, something you needed to get out of your system.

“U-Um I need to go to the bathroom-” you don't know why you're following his orders. You don't know why you're walking steadily towards what you know very well was probably Jongseong's room in the frat house- a lamb to the proverbial slaughter. All you know is that your heart speeds up just a little quicker when you hear him excusing himself from the group right behind you with; “I'm going for a smoke.”

Your mind is hazy with not only fear, but insane unmistakable lust as you make your way up the stairs, surfing between bodies as you make it onto the first floor landing. You can feel Jongseong's oppressive presence behind you. You can feel how anxious he is to get you alone.

And when you enter his room, there is almost no time to regret following orders because he has you pinned against the closed door. The sound of the party is muffled outside but all you're concerned with is Jongseong's palm cradling your throat, his hooded eyes holding something so incredibly angry within.

“What the fuck do I have to do to make you forget him?” His voice cracks as he mumbles drunkenly. You'd never seen someone as put together as Jay, appear so wayward, so driven by inhibitions.

His palm slithers tighter around your neck, too late for your brain to process that you need his hands off.

“You've been taunting me the whole night.”

“Jongseong, I don't know what-”

Your words bleed into a yelp as he pulls you in by the neck to connect your lips in a steering and sloppy kiss.

Once he gets even a tiny taste, all inhibitions are thrown out the window. Jongseong's cock hardens in his pants and he's utterly delicious with lust.

“You're such a slut, you know that?” He mumbles drunkenly, words meshing together, “Might as well have walked in with his fucking collar around your throat like he owned you-”

“Jongseong-” a gasp cracks your throat when Jay forces his hand underneath your skirt, immediately cupping your sex until you are arching your back against the door.

“Oh- fuck- Jongseong-”

A snicker slips from his alcohol stained lips as Jongseong drags you from the door to his window, overlooking the backyard.

“You want him to see what a slut you are for me?” Your tits press against the glass as Jongseong looms behind you, sliding your panties to the side before dipping his fingers into your soaked folds.

“I didn't-”

What you wanted to say before the weight of chasing your own lust overpowered your senses, is that you didn't know just how deep Jongseong's infatuation ran. You didn't even know he likes you.

“All he needs to do is turn around and look up, and he'll see you fucking yourself on my hand-” Jay's other hand reaches over to pull down your top, putting your breasts on absolute display. You're moaning wantonly into the air as you push yourself back into Jay's hand fucking into you and you feel like crying real tears.

“You're fucking soaked. Is that for me or for him?”

“Jongseong I'm gonna-” you're squirting all over his hand, your ass pressed against his front before the rest of the words could even leave your lips. Jongseong is utterly mystified by the sight of you arching backwards against him, body writhing as you come undone right there by his window.

“Fuck,” his voice cracks again, he's utterly pained. “You're gonna do that again, but on my cock this time-”

“Jongseong-” you barely made it a whisper before he's flinging you onto his bed. The springs creek underneath your back as he pulls you by the hips to the edge, manhandling you as if you were nothing but property.

“I saw you first, you know that, right?” Jay mumbles to himself as he drags his pants down to pull his aching cock out. “I saw you first and Jake-” he spits on his hand, jerking his cock above you, “That fucker knew I wanted you first but he hit on you anyway-” Before he can continue in anger, a low groan leaves his throat. “Fuck baby, open your legs just like that-” they snap open on command, you're not sure you're able to deny him anything in this state. And what a state it is: braids hanging around you like a halo, your shirt, a mess with your tits hanging out, all while Jay swipes your panties away to make way for his cock already leaking precum. It's like he didn't have time at all to undress you. He needed to be inside you so fucking badly.

“I'm gonna cum inside, I hope you know-” Jay's eyes roll back into his head as he eases his cock in, one hand pressed on the bed at the side of your head as he hovers over you, “You're squeezing my cock, for fuck's sake-” he ruts into you, creating a burst of friction that has your stomach coiling again-”

“Jongseong- baby-”

“Fucking Christ, don't call me that or I'm gonna cum-” he's soon fucking into you with the urgency and frustration that has been building since you and Jake announced your relationship.

It inked his veins and seeped into his habits, whereby he'd crane his neck back in every econ class, just to get a look at you in 10 minute intervals. He loved you and you just refused to see it.

Having you underneath him now, tits bouncing while he fucked you on his bed- it was all proving too much for Jongseong and you moan at the feeling of his cock twitching inside you.

“I'm gonna cum- fuck you're such a slut-”

He squishes your cheeks together, in a vaguely condescending display of power and kisses your forehead before muttering, “Tell me you're a slut for me and not him.” You clench around his cock at the vaguely animalistic quality in Jay’s voice as he squeezes the base of your throat, bringing you dangerously close to the edge.

“Jongseong-”

“Say ‘I'm Park Jongseong's slut-” say it babe and I'm gonna fucking cum,” you’re already slipping into your orgasm, the pressure in your cunt building into the unmistakable feeling of immense fullness.

You're gushing around his cock as you scream. “Your slut- Fuck! I'm Park Jongseong's slut-”

His nails dig into the skin around your neck and his eyes roll into the back of your neck.

“Oh my fucking god-” your squirt threatens to push his cock out but he fucks you through it, muttering, “My fucking girl,” over and over again to guide you both through the storm.

Once it's all over, you're panting with the weight of your actions hanging heavy between you. He's about to speak but you stop him first. “I didn't know.” You whispered. “If I'd known I would've never been with him. You have to believe that.”

Jongseong collapses beside you, pulling against his chest as his hands pat down your hair, “I believe you.” He says with finality.

[tahliafox]

Only you.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader.

Summary: “Oh, baby. It's only you. My special, little girl.” Natasha whispered into your ear, like a dirty secret. 

Warnings: Angst, Making out.

Word count: 1938 

This is an add on to Dirty Secret, my last published story.

Your finger flitted gently over the F# a couple times before a light pressure caused a horrendous off-key sound coming from the G in front of it. Your eyes tightly closed shut at the mistake.

“It’s an F#, darling.” The deep voice that appeared beside you made you flinch into a pair of thin, delicate hands that came to rest on your  tender shoulders. A green-flecked gaze ran over Natasha’s perfectly polished nails. From instant perception, the older woman's voice seemed to be aroused with disappointment.

The hand that once rested on your shoulder came and grasped at your shaky hands to place them onto the right keys. “A, then F#, then back to A. The notes are in triplets, play it rhythmically and evenly. That may prevent you from slipping again.” You took in a quiet breath, drying out your wanting lips. 

“I'm sorry, I have been trying to play it for ages now. I just can't get it right.” Your voice came out shaky, the breath taken in did little to calm your nerves- further prevented by the divine presence behind you. Natasha ran her hand back over to your shoulder and comfortingly caressed the tiffany blue, cotton shirt. Nimble fingers played with the satin collar that had been folded neatly, framing your porcelain neck. It was unfolded and folded again in exactly the same way, however it seemed to look neater after Natasha’s touch. 

“Why don’t you take a break, sweetheart. Maybe we could clear your head a little.” Natasha looked into your eyes through the gold-framed mirror in front of you both. You blushed under her gaze, as always, and nodded your head. “Fancy a walk?”`

You found yourself thoughtlessly agreeing.

Dancing ballet through thin plaits and red ribbons, the wind seemed to cool your forever flushed cheeks. Golden shards of light peaked through the patterned skyline created by browning leaves. The tree's trunks were home to a blanket of moss that creeped its way up through the branches. Ruby red heels clicked along the stoney, concrete road - that had been framed roughly by brittle leaves fallen from adjacently-lined rows of tall autumn-stained trees. 

Your hand fiddled with the fur lining at the end of your coat, nimble fingers occasionally brushing against the coffee-coloured, plaid skirt you had on. Your eyes were trained on the floor, watching your every step, dear God don’t fall over. You were oh-so careful, trying not to trip over any loose stones that may have been in your way- after all, embarrassing yourself in front of Natasha any more that you already had was the only thing racing through your mind. 

Covered in a ebony-black trench coat, Natasha looked glamorous and rich as always, with a cherry cigarette hanging from her lips. Her hair was tucked neatly into a french beret, secured by two pure gold clips. Everything she owned was so expensive, so expensive that you started to feel worth something every time Natasha layed her gentle fingers against your scarred skin.

“The sunsets are always beautiful this time of year.” Natasha put forth. Her hand was gently intertwined with your own, repeatedly rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand. The unconscious movement managed to both calm and panic you at the same time. The overwhelming being of Natasha never ceased to leave your frame of mind, she was always there. 

Natasha was not expecting the silence she was met with after her remark. You clearly had not cleared your mind yet. “Please try to stop thinking, darling. You have been ever-so stressed recently and it's starting to worry me- and believe me I need nothing less than more worry lines on my forehead.” she chuckled. Your gaze whipped from the gravel path into Natasha’s eyes. 

“You are beautiful.” You spluttered. Natasha blushed softly and raised her eyebrows- making you choke on a dry throat. The soft cigarette smoking coming from Natasha’s mouth weaved its way through the air. “I- I mean that you shouldn't worry about getting lines on your face. You’re already so beautiful and I- well there's nothing that could happen to your face to erase that.” You un-methodically rambled.  

Natasha listened with a sweet smile on her face. Her eyelashes fluttered as she took in the wonder in your eyes as you spoke about her. “Well, thank you very much, sweetheart.” Natasha squeezed your hand tightly in hers with the intention of comfort. 

You smiled and looked back at the floor, the disorder of thoughts slowly clearing. “Did you talk to Darren about my sleeping arrangements? He asked me to clear out the guest room downstairs for whilst he is away- to keep you company.” You changed the subject. Natasha’s smile sunk a little at the mention of her husband. 

“Why don’t we take a trip away as well. Nobody is needing us here, we could go to Rome. I know you speak italian.” Natasha mumbled. You nodded your head at the option. Rome was always lovely at this time of the year, and your apartment there looked over the skyline perfectly.

“I have a place there.” You mentioned. Natasha looked at her, surprised.

“You do?”

“Well, it used to be my Nonno’s, but after he passed away I inherited it. It's completely paid off and everything.”

Natasha smiled at you as you both got to the end of the gravelled road, reaching a perfectly preserved fence. A bay horse lifted its head from the grass, looking over to see you and Natasha standing over the fence. Natasha clicked her tongue at her horse.

The horse came trotting over with its head held high. 

“How come I don't look after the horses as well as the house?” You asked.

“I assumed you were not trained with equine animals. If you had mentioned it in your resume I would have discussed it with you.” Natasha ran her hand along the stripe on the geldings head.

“Oh- I am not trained with horses, I just assumed I would take care of everything.” You hesitated for a second. “You have other maids?”

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head a little at the tone of your question. “Well, yes. It's a rather large estate and it would be impossible for you to clean it yourself, especially because you're not a live-in maid.” 

The realisation that there were other people that could possibly be this close to Natasha shot its way through your stomach like a bullet. What if you weren’t special? What if Natasha was just overly kind, overly giving? What if she’d been with another woman? A concerned look settled onto your face and, unbeknownst to yourself, Natasha was watching every twitch, every little movement to try and read what you were thinking. So lost in thought, you didn't even realise that Natasha's hand had let go of your own hand, and was now reaching its way onto your cheek. 

The juxtaposing smells of Natasha’s cherry wrist and the horse's mane were able to pull you out of a trance. Natasha held your face ever-so delicately and lifted your chin so she could look directly into soft eyes. Like the scent of Natasha, a cherry shade flooded onto your cheeks- all the way to the tips of your ears. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Natasha kindly demanded.

“Do you talk to everyone like this? Do you… well, are you with anyone as well as this?” The innocence of the question, followed with the despair that painted its way onto your face made Natasha pull you into her firm hold. You wrapped your arms around Natashas waist as one of her hands made its way into your hair, scratching at your scalp softly. 

“Oh, baby, only you. My special, little girl.” Natasha whispered into your ear, like a dirty secret. You burrowed your head into Natasha’s neck, allowing the sweet smell to dissipate your thoughts. Natasha rested her chin on top of combed hair and swayed you in her arms, whilst continuously stroking a line from the base of your neck to scalp.

After a long moment, you pulled away from Natasha’s neck, keeping the woman close in your arms. Your head turned away from Natasha’s gaze, scouting the area to see if anyone was with the two of you. 

“Kiss me.” You stated.

Natasha seemed to know everything, but at this moment she went foolish, you hadn't asked her for anything since that night. Often pervaded with words, she found herself speechless. She’d kissed you before, she’d fucked you before yet this was different, thought through- intimate, less impulsive. Sharply inhaling through her nose, (the sweet smell of you not helping her state of overwhelm) went blank, and opened her mouth.

“What?” The older woman's voice, unlike her face, was filled with emotion and expression.  It held a tone of something that you’d never heard before- disbelief maybe, so abnormal that your stomach started to curl. Her voice went- she tried to respond but all that happened was an opening of pretty, pink lips and the release of a cut breath. Natasha stared with shock for a few seconds, her mouth had dropped open the same. Her eyes flicked around the property they were on, after realising they were truly alone she nodded.

“Ask- ask me again and I'll give you anything. I’ll give you everything, just ask me.” Natasha’s voice was desperate. The young girl stole her thoughts and replaced them with images of what could happen. Breathing out of her nose, she closed her eyes and dropped so her forehead was resting against yours. “Please, baby. Ask me again.” The desperate voice dropped to a pleading whisper. 

“Kiss me.”

Despite the sheer desperation swimming within Natasha, she was gentle and kind. Soft, moisturised lips kissed themselves on your shaky mouth, pecking twice- why was she being so damn gentle-  until it got too much. You whined, feeling the older woman inhale against your mouth as the noise registered in her ears. Her legs subtly got closer, almost crossing.

Your eyes were closed, so tightly- as if you were making it up in your head and the permission of sight would cause a decay of the dream. But it was real, as real as Natasha’s nose brushing against yours, her lips intertwined, sucking on your lower lip. As real as her bold, undiscouraged hands gripping at your waist, forcing an arch in your back as she leaned into you.

Your slender arms draped over her neck, the crinkles in your shirt, the dip in her knees. Raphael couldn't paint a prettier picture than what was standing in broad daylight. 

“Please.” You begged, not knowing what you were actually asking for.

More, anything. 

“What, baby?” her mouth drew a millimetre away from yours. “Tell me what you need.”

You stuttered. Her, just her. 

“You, please.” so frail, so inexperienced. What were you supposed to ask for other than her? You just wanted her again.

Yet the world seemed so unkind, as the faint tapping of boots against cobbled stone started to get louder. Natasha withdrew herself from you completely, and in the matter of seconds you seemed to go through withdrawals. Your eyes widened, then welled.

The older woman had you at almost arms length, she consistently observed the surroundings. You begged that no one had seen the both of you together. Once so tender, she went cold, then started walking away from you. 

“Go back inside, finish your duties.” she ordered, as if she was talking to staff. You then realised she was, and that's what you were to her, an employee.

[thestarlightexpress]

Kinktober Day 6 - Pet Play - Nesta x Reader x Eris

TW: sexual themes, degradation, praise, cum eating, etc.

word count: 1.84k

A/N: this is literally just filth, i don't apologize for what I wrote when i was ovulating

Kinktober Masterlist

NSFW under the cut

The lush carpet beneath your legs soothed the ache of your arms pulled back by the fur-lined cuffs. Your palms started to sweat under Nesta’s piercing glare. She was perched up on the arm of the couch, clad in a maroon skin-tight dress, that you were kneeling next to. She leaned forward and hooked a slender finger against the collar lightly constricting your neck.

The pressure on the collar forced you to arch your neck up to look into her stoney gray eyes. Nesta tilted her head to the side as she took in your nude form kneeling for her. “You look so pretty like this, pet. Ready for us to use you,” your breath shuddered in and out of you, waves of arousal coursing through your body at the praise.

To your right, you heard Eris scoff. You dared a glance at him - still wearing his crisp white button up shirt and brown slacks, his forest green suit jacket laying across the back of his favorite armchair. The High Lord sat in the chair by the fireplace, gripping a glass of Autumn whiskey. His legs were spread out and you could see the firm bulge in his pants, spurred on by watching his wife with their consort. 

Nesta’s cold hand grasped your chin and brought your attention back to her. “Ignore him, love. He���s just sour that he doesn’t get to play with you first. Now, come here.” You quickly crawled over to her on your knees. She moved to sit on the couch cushion. Nesta scooted forward to perch on the edge of the cushion. She pulled up her dress to her waist and revealed her glistening cunt to you. You kneeled by her with your face a few inches away from her and looking up into her eyes, obediently waiting for her instructions.

Her palm came down to cup your cheek, “Good job, puppy. You can go ahead, don’t stop until I tell you.” Your heart soared in your chest as you leaned in to lick a stripe up the seam of her pussy before swirling your wet tongue around her clit. The sultry taste of her slick had you dripping onto the carpet. 

Nesta let out a raspy moan and pushed your face into her cunt. You made sure to lap at her entrance before going back up to suck on her clit. Her hand tangled in your hair and rocked your face against her. She wrapped her legs around you so you couldn’t move, you would gladly suffocate in her delicious pussy if she allowed you to. 

While you were eating her out, she made a point to stare directly at Eris - taunting him. He just stared back at her before downing the rest of his glass. They were locked in a battle of wits, neither willing to look away. He slowly unlaced his pants and pulled out his cock, precum already leaking from the time. Heat radiated from him and sparks flew from the fireplace as he stroked his cock to the sounds of his wife being pleasured.

Nesta’s breaths quickened, “That’s it pup, right there. Let me cum all over that pretty face.” Your tongue sped up as she neared her high. You pushed your tongue into her entrance and Nesta gushed and spilled in your mouth and all over your face. 

She stroked your hair, “Thank you, love. So good for me. Now lick up all my cum.”. You immediately dove back into her pussy, licking up every bit of her sweet essence you could find, even licking down to her ass and licking up what spilled onto the couch. The slightly demeaning act didn’t deter you at all. 

She lightly tapped your head to signal that you were done. You sat back on your heels as she slid back on the seat and peered down at you. She glanced over at Eris, still stroking his cock in earnest. “Now, go make that pretty mouth useful again and suck his cock. If you do well, I’ll let you cum tonight.” You quickly nodded and looked over to Eris. 

He vanished his remaining clothes and motioned you over to him, “Walk over to me, bunny.” You shakily rose up onto your feet and slowly padded over to him, standing between his legs. He took off the cuffs and set them on the side table. His warm hands gripped your waist and ran over your thighs and ass. 

One slipped down between your cheeks and he ran his fingers through your folds, making you shiver in his hold. Two fingers slipped into your cunt and collected your arousal on the digits. “You’re fucking soaked, kit. Always so wet for us,” he brought his hand up to his lips and sucked his fingers clean, releasing them with a pop. “Still tastes divine, love. Now kneel for me.” 

You dropped down to your knees and scooched closer to him. He smirked and tapped the leaking head of his cock on your lips and let it rest there, testing to see if you could wait until he gave you permission. The shaky breaths from your nose teasing his tip had him shivering in his chair. “Good job, now take a deep breath and relax your throat. I’m not going to be gentle.” 

You did what he said and he tapped your jaw once. Your chin dropped down and you let your tongue relax low in your mouth, letting a bit of spit leak from the corner of your lips. “Such a needy mess for my cock.” He braced a hand on the back of your head and slowly eased your lips down onto his cock.

He threw his head back and groaned at the slick, sultry feeling of your mouth. He started to speed up, quickly pushing your head up and down over his member. He lowly growled in pleasure as your tongue ran over a thick vein on the underside of his cock with every stroke. 

While you sucked him off, Nesta moved from her spot on the couch. She stripped off her dress and went to lay on the bed, right in Eris’ line of sight. She started playing with her tits and clit as he started to fuck your mouth. 

Instead of guiding you down onto him, he used both hands to hold your head still. Eris braced his feet on the floor as he started to thrust up into your throat. It quickly became too much for you and you started tearing up and gagging on your cock. 

The feeling of your throat constricting around him turned Eris slightly feral. He aggressively bucked up into you while loudly moaning. “Oh fuck that’s it right there. Let me fuck that tight little throat.” Tears were streaming down your face at this point and you felt light-headed at the lack of oxygen. “Such a slutty puppy. Just a whore for my cock, aren’t you?”

You were so close to cumming just from his words alone. While you thoroughly enjoyed lapping at Nesta’s cunt, you fucking loved letting Eris use your mouth, fucking you out for his pleasure alone. 

He suddenly pulled you off his cock and grabbed your face. He leaned over and spit into your open mouth. “I’m going to cum in this pretty little mouth and don’t you dare swallow unless we say.” You stuck your tongue out awaiting his cum as he rapidly jerked off in front of you. 

His breaths became uneven and the first spurts of his release shot onto your tongue and the bridge of your nose. He snarled as his orgasm washed over him, “Gods, that’s it. Take all that fucking cum right in that pretty, little mouth for me.” He continued to slowly stroke his cock until he got every last drop on you. 

He patted your head approvingly - “Stay here” -  before standing and strolling over to Nesta. He smirked at her, “Are you enjoying yourself over here? Touching what’s mine while I fuck her mouth?” His fingers ghosted over her clit before harshly slapping it.

She suddenly hissed, “Ass.”

“I wouldn’t have to be an ass if you would just act correctly and not be bratty. Now lay down and don’t move until I tell you.

Eris turned back to you, “Come here, pup. Give her my cum, show Nes what she could get if she would just behave.” As you walked over to Nesta, Eris spread her legs and quickly shoved his thick cock into her, already hard again. 

You leaned over Nesta and kissed her, letting the mix of cum and spit fall from your mouth to hers. Her tongue dipped into your mouth, cleaning it of all of Eris’ cum before swallowing. “Thank you for that, pup. Now come sit on my face so I can give you your reward.” You smiled before hoisting your hips up and over her face, making sure your were facing Eris as he brutally fucked into her. 

You gingerly hovered over Nesta’s mouth before she tugged you down to set your weight down on her face. You braced your hands below her breasts as you started whimpering and moaning from her lips wrapping around your clit.

Eris looked into your eyes as he fucked a marginal amount of Nesta’s bratty attitude out of her. “Tell me, little fox - does she feel good? How does it feel to have her moaning into her cunt while I fuck her?” You were already on the verge of cumming and his filthy words were not helping. 

“Yes, Daddy. Fuck she feels so good. I wanna cum so hard, can I please cum for you?” Eris smirked at how well they had you trained for them. 

“Of course, my love. You’ve been so good for us tonight. Make her cum, Nes.” Nesta forcefully gripped your hips and pulled you even farther down as you canted your hips across her face. The sounds coming from your cunt were absolutely glorious and helped push you over the edge. “Such a good girl, bunny.”

Eris’ attention switched to the female he was pounding into. “You make her feel so good, Nes - fuck - always make her cum so hard for us.” Nesta’s cunt clenched around him and he drove her closer to another orgasm. “Yeah, keep squeezing me just like that baby. Gods your cunt feels amazing, always so perfect for me.”

Nes moaned into your pussy as she continued to lick, quickly overstimulating you. Eris was close and used his full force to buck into Nesta. “Take my cum, love. I’m going to fill both up until you can’t hold anymore.”

Her walls fluttered around him as she came and he spilled his hot cum into her. After taking a few seconds, he slowly pulled out of her and collapsed on the bed next to her. You gingerly clambered off her face to lay down between your High Lord and High Lady as they cuddled their fucked-out puppy to sleep.

[ramielll]

I was waiting for you -Part 2

Benjicot Blackwood x fem reader

Contains: some angst, fluff, friends to lovers, slow burn

Word count: 1663

Tw: canon typical discrimination against women, drinking

Part 3

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

„You were conspiring behind my back about my betrothal?” Y/N’s voice rose dangerously before she remembered herself. She paced in her room as her brother sat in one of the chairs in front of the hearth. Looking tenser by the moment with watching his older sister growing more agitated. He did feel guilty about the ordeal, he knew he should have discussed this with her before coming to Riverrun, but it was as obvious to him as it was to their father, that if she knew, she would have never agreed to come here.

„I apologise for keeping this from you sister, but I would hardly call this conspiring. You are a woman grown, and you already have the luxury that you do not have to marry for us to further our advantage, thanks to my own betrothal.” He sighed and tried to give her a reassuring look as he continued. „Father gave me this task, but rest assured, your wishes will be considered.

She stopped her pacing to look into her brothers’ eyes. He did look sorry, and she knew this wasn’t really his fault, still she thought he would at least mention their plans. The situation was tense enough for her and quarrelling would not make it better. „It was shrewd of you to keep this from me but thank you for taking my feelings into regard. Not many noble ladies have that.” She added in a low voice. „There is no turning back now it seems.” Her voice shaking with realisation. „All I ask is that you do not make the decision without asking me in the end.“ She could feel the anxiety seeping into her bones just at the thought.

„I promise.” His eyes shown honesty. „But you also cannot simply refuse everyone.”

Y/N only nodded. She always knew this moment will eventually arrive. She thought that she should feel lucky for having even a small saying in the matter. But no matter how hard she tried, at the moment she couldn’t muster much gratitude.

The young man stood from his chair and offered his arm. „Let us get to supper. I’m sure the others are waiting already.”

„Of course.” Y/N took his arm without another word and took a deep breath as they entered the hallway and began walking towards the great hall. There was nothing left to argue about. All she could do, is to hope and try to get familiar with one of her suitors. She must make the best of this dreadful situation.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

The stoney hall of Riverrun was already prepared for supper, with people being seated around a long table as they made their entrance. The man surrounding the table stood from their seats as she approached them on her brother’s arm. There were only two seats left. One between her cousins and one at the right of Edmure Frey at the end of the table. Y/N tried to take a step towards Oscar and Kermit, but her brother gently tugged her back, steering her towards the other seat. She sent a mean glare in his direction before she sat down with a tight-lipped smile.

Everyone began eating and loudly chattering as she poured herself some wine to down it quickly and just as she reached for the pitcher again a hand took it from her to pour into her cup.

„Lady Stark, allow me to say, how radiant you look tonight.” Edmure Frey, only a year or two younger than her, was a pleasant looking young man. With shoulder length, light brown hair and greyish green eyes. He was clearly trying to gain her favour with flattery, but he did not look like a cunning man. It could be worse, she thought. If he turned out to be kind or good humoured, they might find familiarity.

„Thank you, my Lord.” She gave him a small smile before taking another sip of her cup.

„I heard you take a great interest in histories my Lady. Not many ladies are so fond of reading books other than ones about romance. You have my admiration.” Edmure Frey leaned closer as he smiled and tried to flirt. She laughed and was about to say something, but another voice interrupted.

„You must not have met many ladies, Lord Frey, so you might find it hard to believe, but the majority of noble ladies have their own minds and interests.” She looked up at the men seated in front of her, only now really noticing him. His dark eyes immediately meeting hers with a subtle flush on his face and smile directed towards her.

„My Lady, I apologise for Edmure, one should not be so surprised about a lady being interesting.” Lord Edmure grew stiff beside Y/N as she looked down and tried to stifle a snort.

„Well said Lord Blackwood.” She said with a laugh, missing how the three men on the other side of the table shared glances of interest at their conversation. Benjcot’s smile broadened. „Call me Benji or Ben, my Lady. Like you used to.” His voice grew more sincere as did his smile while gazing at her.

„Very well… Benji.” Her face reddened and she lowered her eyes, getting shy suddenly at Benji’s intense look.

While the conversation did die down after that between them, everyone else around the table could see Y/N and Benjicot taking quick glances at one another when they thought the other wasn’t looking, through the rest of the evening.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Y/N was restless as she laid in her comfortable bed. She tossed and turned, trying to find a good position but it seemed sleep evaded her. She shoved aside her blankets with frustration and got up. This trip was not turning out as she envisioned it. Her emotions about this whole ordeal refused to give her any rest. So, she slipped her feet into her shoes and donned one her thicker robes over her flimsy nightgown as she made her way outside.

Y/N walked through the long halls and then the empty courtyard before slipping out in the back and arriving on the familiar little pathway between the forest and the river. She made this journey many times before. Although back then it was mostly during the day and with company, but she needed this alone time now. Y/N knew not stray too far from the castle, it was unlikely to meet anyone with bad intentions this close to the walls but it was still better to be cautious.

She stepped over rocks and cold patches of grass, breathing in the chill of the foggy air, feeling calmness finally washing over her. She did not know how many minutes have passed when she heard rustling behind her. Y/N stilled, momentarily fear washing over her.

„Lady Stark!” She knew that voice. „You should not be out here alone.” Her heart filled with relief as she turned towards none other than Benjicot Blackwood.

„Lord Bla- Benji.” Her voice came out too timid for her liking as she tightened her robe. „I was only-„

„Escaping?” Benjicot finished her sentence with a smile. She laughed as she smiled back at him. „If I were to make my escape, I would not do it in nothing but a but a nightgown.”

„Of course.” He was grinning now. “Do not be afraid to ask me for any assistance when it comes to your actual escape my Lady” Benjicot stepped closer with his hands behind his back.

„I don’t think that would be wise of me, how would I know that you will not tell my brother?” He stopped in front of her, closer than deemed proper, so that he can see her face in the moonlight. It was a good thing he held his hands clasped behind him, his fingers suddenly itched to touch her pretty face. He always knew she was beautiful growing up. During the times they have spent together, were many occasions where he made a fool of himself. Only to get her attention or to make her laugh.

„You don’t trust your childhood companion? You wound me my Lady.” She looked down before raising her gaze shyly again. „You should also call me by my given name. You are right. We’re old friends after all.”

„As you wish Y/N.” He made the mistake of stealing a glance at her lips. He needed to get a grip on himself. The situation was improper already. Being alone in the dark, with an unwed noble lady, for whom he also possessed great affections too. He reluctantly took a step back from her. At this, Y/N could almost feel a bit of disappointment.

„Allow me to walk you back to your chambers Y/N” He offered his hand, which she took without hesitation.

They made their way back to Riverrun mostly in silence. Both of them feeling both nervousness and comfort at the closeness they shared after all this time spent apart.

She felt a twinge in her heart as they arrived at her door. She did not yet want to end their private time together. Y/N turned towards Benjicot before stepping into her rooms.

„Would you accompany me to a walk tomorrow Y/N?” He asked before she could say goodnight.

„Yes, of course!“ Her voice was but a whisper as she smiled. „It would be my pleasure. And it would also get me away from my brothers’ expectant eyes, as well as from Edmure Frey’s blatant flirting.” She laughed awkwardly. „I will gladly play the part of your saviour.” He lifted her hand to his lips and gently brushed a kiss over her knuckles. He tried really hard to be dashing, but his cheeks flushed and his stomach flipped as he saw her equally rosy face and soft parted lips.

„Goodnight, Y/N.”

„Goodnight Benji” She whispered before closing the door behind her. She had trouble falling asleep again, although for an entirely different reason this time.

[asumofwords]

Aemond POV: Your return to the Red Keep

A/N: I saw that a few of you wanted an Aemond POV, and as I am a benevolent ruler, I thought I would give the people what they wanted. I wanted to do the the first couple of times he saw you after the years you were separated. This is all from Aemond’s point of view and from the time where you and your family all returned to the Red Keep.

This is a Dark!Aemond POV from the fic Smoke, Fire and Ash.

Enjoy !

TW: Aemond POV. Dark!Aemond. Murder, Incest, thoughts of violence, thoughts of sexual activities. 18+

Words: 4k

Character pairing: Dark!Aemond X Reader, HOTD characters. Dark!Aemond POV.

He swung his sword roughly at Ser Criston, who leant back to dodge the edge of the sharp blade, as he and Aemond moved in tandem in the training yard. Aemond was fast on his feet but knew Ser Cole to be just as quick. 

Each swing was met by a duck, or deflection by the chain of the flail Ser Cole swung at him, the loud clanging of the chain and whistle in the air as it moved towards him, guided him back. And soon Aemond found himself dancing in a circle as he waited to make the next move, to swing the blade back down onto the knight and make him yield. 

Ser Cole swung the striking head once more towards Aemond, and he dodged, before spinning to hold the tip of his blade against Ser Cole's neck, hitting the flail away. They both breathed deeply as they watched each other, and Ser Cole finally conceded. 

Applause rang out from those who had gathered to watch the two men train, and Aemond felt the prickling sensation of three sets of eyes upon his form.

Ser Cole dropped the flail to the ground heavily, “Well done, My Prince,” Ser Cole breathed, “You’ll win tourneys in no time.”

Aemond did not lower the blade, “I don’t give a shit about tourneys.” He spoke, before allowing his gaze to roam the space to where he felt eyes watching him. Lowering his sword, Aemond let his eye land on a pair of brown headed boys, and the silver hair of a girl.

Who is she?

“Nephews,” He called out, enjoying watching the two Strong boys stiffen as they were addressed, faces suddenly uncomfortable, “Have you come to train?” 

Jacaerys mouth opened and closed like a fish, as Lucerys looked up to the girl, no, woman, beside him. How she had grown. No longer the gangly limbed child, who’s hair could rarely be tamed, but now stood a woman of the court. 

Her hair was braided neatly behind her head, as she wore a tight all black gown that hugged her curves. Grown, indeed. Her cheeks were dusted a light pink. He felt his lip twitch as he watched her, small excitement bubbling inside as he remembered fond memories of their youth together.

Was she nervous?

As he caught her gaze, she blinked, looking down and then back up at him, stoney faced and chin held higher. She looked down to Lucerys, whispering to him before moving the two Strong boys away with her, back into the Keep. 

All those fond memories came crashing down, and the bitter rage in which Aemond had tried in vain to keep in order, bubbled up inside of him. There she was, the Princess who he had been so close to, his niece who he had shared so many memories with, so many secrets, once again choosing her brothers over him. 

He could remember vividly, sitting in that room, as the Maester stitched his eye shut, feeling the sharp pain of the needle as it threaded through. No milk of the poppy was given to him. He was too young, it was too dangerous. And so instead he tried to seek comfort in someone he always had.

You.

And what had you done? 

Stuck by Lucerys, checking his face for injury, and standing firmly alongside your mother, watching him as he was berated in front of all, by his father. That was when the love shared between the both of you died.

He would do well to remind himself of that.

Aemond could not believe how much she had changed. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he watched them walk away, the Princess throwing a curious look over her shoulder to glance at him one more time. 

He supposed that he had grown too. His cheeks no longer held the plumpness of young adolescence, and his face had grown sharp and angled. Even the way he held himself was different.

He had changed, and so had she.

You were all in the Iron Throne room, listening to Vaemond Velaryon put forward a motion to be heir of Driftmark, questioning the four of you and your legitimacy, voice loudly ringing into the court.

Aemond would remember it for the rest of his days. 

You stood, back straight, head tall, hair braided tightly up, with none flowing down. A black and red gown hugging your figure with an off the shoulder look, similar to your mother as you stood beside her, mouth turned down in the corners. 

Such rage, Aemond noted.

He watched with glee as Vaemond argued with your mother, watching Jacaerys shake his head and mutter under his breath whilst his assaulter, Lucerys looked nervous. You had pushed Lucerys beside you, using your body as a shield to keep him out of Vaemond’s line of sight.

Still protecting him.

Aemond felt that bitterness curl through him as he watched. 

“Her children... are bastards!”  Vaemond yelled into the court, and yet despite it all, Aemond could not keep his eye off of you. As soon as the words left the Velaryon’s lips, he watched as your face calmed. 

It was eerie, Aemond thought. 

Your hand had moved the slightest of bits towards your side, and Aemond watched as you swayed forward, as though ready to pounce. There was no blush on your cheeks, no sneer on your lips, just a fire burning in your eyes as you watched your Velaryon uncle. 

“And she…is��a whore.” The man sneered.

“I, shall have your tongue for that.” Aemond’s father called out to the court, standing roughly as he unsheathed the blade from his side. 

Aemond would not give the old man a second glance, he knew that his father would do nothing, as he had done nothing for years. And would do nothing as he was too weak from sickness, and too faint of heart.

Movement caught Aemond’s eye, as he watched Vaemond Velaryon’s corpse fall loudly to the ground, the sound of a blade and the loud thud echoing through the chambers. 

If Aemond could laugh, he would. But it would not be proper of him. 

“He can keep his tongue.” Daemon purred, looking down at his handiwork.

Aemond flicked his sight away from the corpse and up at you. You had not jumped, nor looked away from the body on the floor. No. Instead you glared at it with rage, before suddenly your lips pulled into a small smile. 

No-one else in the court would have witnessed it, too busy looking at the body of the man slain in front of them. Your lips looked as though they were fighting to hide the sheer joy and pleasure you got from watching him be killed. A small line of blood was flecked across your cheek, but you did not notice, or if you had, you did not wipe it away.

Such a beautiful smile. 

And then suddenly your eyes were on him. And Aemond felt the air be sucked out of the room. You watched him in delight, no longer hiding your smile as you watched him. Such a smug and proud look upon your face. A threat some would say. 

The sight made his cock twitch. 

There she is.

Aemond felt awe as he watched Daemon move back, wiping his sword on his robes before he came to stand beside you. You took your gaze from your uncle, and looked up at your mothers husband, smiling proudly. 

He watched as Daemon ran a finger along your cheek to wipe the Velaryon blood away lovingly, and Aemond felt a pang of jealousy. 

Aemond noted that Vaemond was wrong when he said that they wouldn’t know what Velaryon blood looked like, because now the whole court did.

Aemond had been running late for his family feast, something that he had never done before. He prided himself in upholding his duty and being the son that Aegon should have been.

In truth, Aemond had gone straight to his chambers after the events at court, and had pulled roughly at his cock at the thought of you. He wished to touch you, to hold you, to claim you. He wanted to mark you so that everyone knew that you were his. He wanted to watch you swell with his babe.

He had never thought of you this way before and it maddened him. He found his release in his hand three times that day, picturing you on your knees before him, pleasuring him with your soft lips, or him thrusting deep into your cunt. 

You had bewitched him.

He had brushed his hair more roughly than he should have, the frustration rolling through him as he prepared to walk down to the feast. And although he had brought himself to climax three times already, he still was not satisfied. He told himself as he walked to the Dining Hall to ignore you, to breathe, to not get caught in the trap of a bastard. 

But he was already trapped.

When he entered the room, he noticed all were praying before the meal, his mother Alicent giving him a stern yet disappointing look. It made his heart sting to disappoint her. And this sting, he blamed immediately upon you.

As he walked to the table he let himself gaze at you. 

You wore quite the scandalous dress, as though you were purposefully teasing him. No. He was sure you were doing it on purpose. To get a rise out of him. To tempt him into your space.

The neckline was plunging and he could not help but let his eyes linger upon the breasts you had developed. They looked so soft, and Aemond wanted nothing more than to run his tongue over them softly, or bite them roughly.

He could not decide which one he liked the thought of better.

Aemond asked his mother for forgiveness as he sat at his seat, at the opposite end of the table facing you. He held your gaze firm, and when he saw the light blush crawl over your cheeks, he let himself smirk in victory. 

Perhaps he affected you the same way you did him.

He watched you carefully that evening, eye roaming your figure wondering if you had been spoiled yet by some man, or woman. He wondered why you had not been betrothed yet, surely a woman of your age should have been promised to some Lord by now.

And then he could not help but think perhaps the Gods were on his side for once, and the reason that you were not engaged yet, meant that you would be his. 

Aemond found that he had no hunger that evening, except for a hunger for you. He could not bring himself to eat, nor could he bring himself to take his eye away from you. He still could not believe how much you had grown. 

Your lips were fuller now, and had the softest curve to them, than you did when you were young, and the longer he looked, the more he found it difficult to look away. He wondered if you hated him. The way you caught his gaze and sneered, made him assume so. 

How could she hate me? He thought. 

What had he done to deserve this? She was the one who abandoned him. She was the one who chose her bastard brother over him. She was the one who let him take his eye, and did not care for his pain after. 

He felt that anger prickle in the back of his head as he watched her. 

He watched his niece dance, and laugh with his sister. He watched them break each other's cold masks and for one second, he thought he was looking back in time, from when they had all been children. Back to when Helaena and Y/n had been inseparable. 

Or so he had thought.

He found that as he watched them dance and enjoy each other's company, he could no longer sneer. He could no longer hold such disdain and anger. It gave him a lick of hope. A disgusting, fickle piece of hope that perhaps one day, he could have her, and she would want it.

But then Jacaerys took Helaena to dance, and suddenly he felt that anger redirected.

How dare the dirty bastard touch her like that. How dare he make her smile. How dare his disgusting Strong hands touch Helaena so gently, hold her as though he knew her intimately.

He didn’t.

His nephew could never know just how beautiful Helaena was, just how beautiful she could be. 

No one deserved her. 

Not even Aemond himself.

And as he found himself scowling at his nephew he heard the soft, yet sharp call of your voice, turning his attention back to you, hackles on his back up and ready to fight from your tone. 

You were mocking him.

“Prince Aemond, were you riding Vhagar this evening? I thought I saw her soaring up into the sky. When you didn’t arrive on time, I worried that a storm had come and taken you.” She inquired, fake concern lacing her venomous tongue.

You little bitch.

Aemond had to school himself, and so he reached out to hold his goblet, taking a sip of the spiced wine to give him time to think before reacting. He had been reacting to her all day, and found that if he did it again, he would have to take her, right there and then, before their family to show them who she truly belonged to.

“I was merely enjoying the night sky, dear niece.” 

Lie. He was thinking of your soft thighs, and sweet lips and warm-

“It's not everyday you have the world's largest dragon, and I make a habit of reminding myself of that.”

And Gods, he could not lie that when your next words spilled from your lips, and the cruel smile you gave him, he had not really listened to your words. He had not even given thought to your attempt to goad him into a fight. Because he was ready, and he had been all too ready since the day you came back. 

Since the day he saw you in the training yard. 

Aemond had been ready to lash out at you for what you had done to him. For abandoning him. For choosing your bastard brothers and whore mother over him. For ruining what could have been. For what you had made him feel. For how weak he had become.

He was almost as bad as Aegon, and that was what made it so much worse. 

He had planned to leave it, he had planned to not give in. To show who was superior, to show the grace of a true Targaryen, not a bastard of a disgraced whore Princess, who would never sit upon the throne. He clenched his teeth so hard in his mouth, that all he could do was hum in response.

But then the Gods were cruel, and fate was even crueler, and he watched in horror as a roasted pig was placed before him. He knew it was coming, he knew the cards that were about to be dealt, and he felt the slightest itch of his scar as his lone eye looked upon a stark reminder of his youth.

He listened as Lucerys snorted, just like the pig at his expense, and it all came flooding back.

The taunting, the mocking, the cruelty, his eye.

All of it. 

But losing his eye did not hurt nearly as much as watching you abandon him for them.

“Is that not your first dragon, uncle Aemond? What had you named it again? The Pink Dread?” You teased, smirking at him and Aemond heard as the others giggled from the table, even Aegon. 

Aegon was the worst of them all. 

And despite everything he had done for his brother, the years of protecting him, the years of coddling him and allowing him to be the disgusting man that he was, it still wasn’t good enough. Aegon still called Aemond a twat, and mocked him. Made a mockery of their position as Targaryen Princes. Forcing him to a Pleasure house at ten-and-three, telling him it was ‘time to get it wet’.

But he hadn’t wanted to.

And there it was. 

That anger that he tried so desperately to push deep within him. That anger his mother had tried to school out of him, the anger that only Helaena seemed to soothe with her kind words and comfort. She was the only one in the Keep who did not treat him like a monster. She was the only one he had left.

Fuck it.

Aemond slammed his hand on the table, feeling the wood sting his palm as he stood to his full height, holding out his goblet to her, watching her shit eating grin slowly fall from her face.

“Final tribute.” He began, directing that anger carefully into his next words. 

He watched as she stiffened, eyes flicking about the table, gauging the other's reactions.

“To the health of my nephew's, Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise,” He paused, watching her as she began to anticipate the next words, “Hm… Strong."

Watching her face turn to frown at him, to scowl at him, to burst with such hatred, made his blood rush through his body and into his cock.

And so he continued. 

What a rush.

How good it felt to hurt her the way she had hurt him. To make her feel just as lowly as she had made him feel. How her brothers had made him feel for years. 

He heard his mother say his name but he ignored it. He would deal with the repercussions later, though he doubted he would. She had never stopped him before, and in fact was brazen with discussing the illegitimacy of the Strong boys, so why start now. 

“And to my darling niece, some cast doubts about her strength, but I can see that she is just as Strong as her brothers.”

She was simmering with rage by then and all he could think of was how glorious it would be to put her in her place. To bend her to his will, to snuff out that fire inside of her.

"Let us raise our cups, to these three Strong boys, and their Strong sister." Aemond purred, watching her clench her entire body, hands in fists so tight, her knuckles turned white.

Aemond heard the irritating growl of his nephew Jace, “I dare you to say that again.”

Aemond could not help but smile. This would be little challenge. Though Jace had grown, Aemond was still older and bigger, and doubted the younger boy trained as hard as he did with the sword.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?”

Aemond felt the dull ache on his cheek, his head whipping to the side as Jacaerys laid his fist into his face. His hand still held his goblet, and he noted to himself with great pride, that he had not spilt a drop of wine on the floor.

Turning back, Aemond used little effort to shove his nephew to the floor, watching in his periphery as Lucerys tried in vain to help, as Aegon slammed him into the table by the scruff of his neck.

Down boy.

And then you did something that had not shocked him in the slightest. You grasped the fork from the table, calling out to him with a voice that was laced with venom.

“Say that again. Say that again I dare you!” 

Seeing that tiny fork in your hand made him smile even more. He doubted you even trained yourself, and his size and strength could certainly overpower you.

And how he could not wait to bend you over the table and f-

“No. I want to hear what my uncle has to say.” She heaved a breath, “Speak Aemond, so that we may hear your treasonous lies again.”

My little dragon. Such fire.

He felt an overwhelming sense of pride as he watched you heave angry breaths, eyes wide as you clutched the pathetic fork. So proud in fact, that he found himself grinning. 

He had only seen this side of you a handful of times as a child.

Defending Helaena when Aegon would question her intelligence or sanity.

Defending Lucerys and Jacaerys when he and Aegon would call them bastards together, or taunt them once their mother Alicent had told them of the threat of Rhaenyra ascending the throne and her bastard children.

Even defending him.

It made his lips pull wider.

It was not often that Aemond grinned. Sure he smirked, and occasionally smiled, but rarely did he show his teeth. Those sharp incisors that he would have no issue using to bite down on the soft flesh of your thighs, or the stiffened bud of your nipple.

As soon as he bared his teeth to the room, you were moving and he watched in awe as you charged straight for him, much like his mother had done to Rhaenyra all those years ago. 

It was uncanny, the wildness in your eyes. Such devotion.

Such love.

And then you were before him, breasts pushing against the confines of your dress as you heaved angrily, eyes dancing across his face, demanding he answer you.

Commanding him to answer.

He felt the prongs of the fork underneath his neck and could not help but feel himself begin to harden under the tight confines of his pants.

You were so close to him, the closest you had been since you were children. He could see the purple of your eyes, and the blush on your cheeks from the wine and your anger. He could see the small freckles you had on your face, and smell the oils on your skin.

You smelt sweet, earthy, musky. It was addictive, it was arousing. It was everything he had hoped and dreamed of that day, cock in hand. It took all of his strength to not dip his head down and capture your lips with his. To taste the spiced wine that would surely be on your tongue. To drink down your essence and be full of it.

He wanted to be full of you, to taste you. To lick at your weeping cunt as you cried beneath him, begging him. More, more, please Aemond, please uncle, more. He wanted to drink your release as it leaked from you, as he brought you to climax, time and time again.

“Say. That. Again.” The little dragon spat.

If he did not preoccupy his lips with something, he would kiss you. He could not help it. You were magnetic. And enigma. A force to be reckoned with. The Gods had taken their time with you.

And so he lifted the goblet to his lips to sip, but your small hand swiped it away, causing the wine and goblet to spill onto the ground. 

As soon as your hand brushed against his, he felt an electric jolt. It had been so long since you had touched him.

Touch me again.

And then Daemon was behind you, whispering in your ear and Aemond watched as your strength wavered, as contemplation flickered across your face. As all the emotions flashed quickly and disappeared as he continued to urge you to stand down. 

How had his uncle tamed you so well?

How had this man made you so pliable? Aemond found himself more and more jealous of the relationship the two of you had. And the more he looked at you both, so close together, as you had grown into your face, the more he recognised certain features. 

Certain mannerisms. 

And then his uncle was staring him down, as he crowded his niece in front of him, whispering so lowly, that no-one else but the three of you would hear.

“Issa ñuha tala.” (She is my daughter.)

And then it all made sense.

That fire, that rogue air about you.

The way you held no fear around the Prince, the way you did not flinch, and leant into his touch. The way Daemon doted on you more than any of his other children.

You were his. 

You were not a Strong bastard.

You were fire. 

And that made Aemond more determined than ever to have you.

And he would have you.

No matter the cost.

Argh so here it is, a lil blurb of Aemond's POV from 'Smoke, Fire and Ash'. I thought it would be best to show you the beginning of his descent into pure obsession with the reader. Sure there had been a possessiveness from the start as children, but it had been innocent, until the reader came back to the Keep fully grown. The pair truly force each others hand, neither one knowing when to stop and only making things worse. It's beautiful :')

Tag List:

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[urgardenandmine]

lost love found again. 𓆰 - s. choi

PLEASE READ WHILE LISTENING TO KEHLANI'S "FORM OF YOU"

summary: night life in the city isn't the best when you're on the clock in a dangerous profession *WARNING: THERE IS A SMALL SUGGESTION TOWARDS BLOOD AND IF THAT AIN'T FOR YOU, BYE (love you though) genre: ANGST AND SPOOKY (barely) pairing: m!reader x choi soobin word count: 800

“fuck.”

he muttered, running down the stoney path as he tried to catch his breath. the sound of his feet hitting the pavement harmonized with the incessant chirping of the nearby crickets and other creatures hiding in the bushes. he tried to push forward but his legs had given out on him, causing him to fall onto his face as he groaned and turned to lay on his stomach. clutching his right arm, he heaved and dragged himself up. slowly pulling himself up, he made his way to the nearest safe haven, which happened to be an alleyway that was half a mile away. 

as he made his way into the musty alleyway, he had startled a trio of raccoons. jumping back a bit, he had chuckled as he raised his hands to show he came in peace. the raccoons stared up at him, blinking as he tread around them as hid behind the dumpster, away from sight. sitting down, he dusted off his calloused hands. looking down at them, he noticed the wine colored stains on them. though it wasn’t wine in reality. the lights and the exhaustion had just made him think otherwise, but he knew what it was. he exhaled heavily, feeling the end creep closer to him. 

turning to his right side, where he was nestled near the side of the dumpster, he felt a small furry creature next to him. one raccoon eyed him, blinking as it had a small cracker in it’s paws. he chuckled, petting it softly as he looked down at it.

“hey there buddy. i’m soobin.” he whispered, running his bruised hands through the small creature. as he was lost in the softness of it’s fur, he hadn’t noticed the lamp posts across the streets had flickered off. now, in front of him was a figure that he had longed to avoid. without looking up, he relaxed slowly in front of the towering being.

“hello, [y/n].” he welcomed. looking down at your feet, you purse your lips as you begin to tear up. 

“choi soobin, for your crimes against humanity, you must face punishment and must accept without consequence.” you stated. he nodded, handing the raccoon a small piece of an half eaten apple. 

“who sent you here for me?” he asked, smirking softly as he could feel his heart begin to falter from it’s original rhythm. without answering, a teardrop fell from your eyes, causing you to ball your hands into fists. 

“i didn't know my karma would come in the form of a human being.” you could feel his anxiety spike, yet you couldn’t do anything as you were already on thin ice for letting your ex-lover run rampant throughout the centuries. he groaned, clenching his gut as he began to tighten and feel uncomfortable. you kneeled down in front of him, eyeing him as he now turned his gaze towards the sky.

the night sky was filled with misty clouds and bright, gleaming stars. he whimpered, feeling all his extremities begin to slowly feel like ice. he had looked up at the moon, seeing it in all it’s beauty as he studied the craters. you reached for his hand, as he immediately grabbed it and chuckled, locking eyes with you. as you stared into his brown portals, he stared back into your [e/c] windows. 

“so effortless, i'm pessimistic. i've shown the worst, but you give me your best.” you chuckled, as your vision became blurry. he groaned loudly, squeezing your hand and feeling his body slowly become heavier.

“always questions got you teaching me lessons.” he spoke softly through his rose lips turning a soft blue, as he ran his thumb on the back of your hand, wanting to feel the warmth of you one last time. you began to choke on your saliva, making him tear up more as he grunted, trying to sit himself up and closer to your face. smiling at him, you wiped his tears as he smirked back. you brushed away his black hair, making him and you look eyes once before.

“who knew all these blessings could come in the form of you.” he whispered, before planting a gentle kiss on your lips. accepting his kiss of death,  you began to choke back tears as you had to continue on your job. as you propped him up against the brick wall, you had left your black satin coat under his head to make him seem comfortable. you looked down at your lover, seeing him in all his glory as you groaned, clenching your chest as you wailed. breaking down to your knees, you placed a small black rose in his hands as a parting gift.

though you prayed for a set of lessons, you wouldn't have bet where it landed.

⋆｡°✩

1) inspired from the song by THE kehlani "form of you" with CHILDODNINES and featuring destin conrad (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PjSwvRSgBgo)

this story has been in my mind for a hot minute and with it being halloween season so here y'all go so ta-da~

sorry for the moas for making y'alls pookie a mean guy TT

the song is actually about love and how blessings come with it but i turned it around and made it sad so LOLZ, enjoy!

[iambilliejeanok]

Kakuzu x reader x Hidan

Part One

Summary: You are a respectable shinobi of Konohagakure, known as the red gem of the leaf, a name that sent shivers down the spines of all nations. No one ever lived to tell of how gruesome you were in battle however, you now found yourself in a rather tricky dilemma. You are in debt and Kakuzu, dragging along Hidan are your hungry loan sharks. There are only two ways in which you could clear your debt and finally get rid of those evil bastards . What's your pick?

Warning: 18+ Violence, Language and NSFW 

Minors please do not interact. 

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

“Ow!”, you yelled out as Kakuzu tightened his grip on your wrist, roughly pulling you along, as you purposefully dragged your feet on the stoney path, annoying him to his core. He would have simply killed you if it wasn't for your status, however, your death would certainly win him a tough time with Pein and the Leaf village, causing him many problems down the line. He had a headache just thinking about it. Damn you.

“Quiet!”, the growl coming out of his mouth threatening enough to force you to bite your lip against the next moan that sped up your throat as he pulled you even harder. You glared at him, angry eyes melting a hole at the back of his head. “Tch”, you irritably grumbled. You had finally reached what you assumed was the akatsuki hideout, your eyes impatiently rolling as you watched Kakuzu weave the necessary signs to undo the seal on the giant metal gate before you.

You caught a sight of his large hands, noticing the brown nail polish decorating his thick, long fingers. A ring wrapped around his middle finger, only further dampening the arousal that slowly built up in your core. You quickly snapped out of the filthy thoughts infiltrating your mind as he returned his rough grasp on your wrist, once again pulling you through a doorway and further down a dimly lit passage.

After a few turns he had finally stopped in front of double doors, the grip on your wrist loosened and he reached behind you to place it on the small of your back, pushing you into the large room. A king sized bed sat right in the middle of the room, draped in cotton grey sheets. A thin, black box sat at the foot of it. You immediately stiffened, feeling Kakuzu’s muscular, hard chest pushing against you. You noticed the warmth that radiated off of his chest, heating you up as he gently placed his large pretty hand on your tummy, pulling you further into him. You didn't even try to pry yourself from him, having long accepted your fate. The cotton fabric of his mask tickled your neck as he lowered his lips to your ear, “Get dressed, then come and meet me in the room down the passage. It will be the last door on your right”. He backed up away from you, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as a hard slap landed right on your full ass, making you stumble forward. You quickly turned around to face him, an annoyed scowl on your face as your dark eyes glared at him. “Do not make me wait, or I will return to dress you myself”, was the last words he uttered before turning on his heels and walking out the room. Leaving you all by yourself.

A deep sigh left your plump lips as he shut the door behind him. The silence triggering you to start evaluating your situation. You would try your best to get this over and done with. Simple right? He would have you as he pleased for one whole night, then you would leave. Debt cleared. How hard could it be to satisfy an old man like him? “Quick, quick, quick”, you absentmindedly mumbled as you turned on your heels to walk to the box on the bed. You impatiently ran your fingers along the sides to make sure it wasn't taped shut, before lifting up the lid, only to reveal black material. “What the fuck?”, you whispered to yourself as you pulled the soft, lacy material out the box, holding it up in the air to fully take in the cloth. “What the fuck!’, you gasped out a little too loud as you took in the very skimpy piece of lingerie between your fingers. “What kinky shit is this old man up to?”, you spoke aloud, a wave of panic rushing through you as you realised the situation you were in. He was actually quite strong and even though you had never personally fought him, you had witnessed him in battle and he looked a little too sexy for your liking, and that's when your deep pretend hatred towards him began. A pathetic way to distract yourself from the undeniable arousal that crept up on you when you took him in. For a moment you considered running out the room to let the old man know you decided to go for option number two. Anything would be better than giving in to this want you had for him. But option two was totally not an option. Your debt was a large one after all. Either you let him ‘have his way with you’ or you joined the akatsuki to go on missions until your debt was paid, which would take long enough for the whole of Konoha to find out and label you a rogue ninja. The thought of experiencing such shame and loss already had you reaching for the button of your pants. 

No ways would you let this man ruin you. At least not your reputation. 

You didn’t even know what you looked like as you stepped out the room, your bare feet padding against the cool tiles of the hideout. The air felt cool against your skin. You weren't that nervous and being a virgin didn't scare you one bit. Nothing really made you nervous. Fuck Kakuzu. You smirked at the pun. You stood in front of the door of the supposed meeting place and quickly placed the ridiculous bunny ears you held in your hand on your head. “Do your thang girl”, you snickered at your little joke, pushing the doors open.

[tenkasato]

And We Shatter

Scenario: Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive, was trapped inside his own body. You’re left with his unmoving body, a doll with the face of your fiance, warm but also so, so cold. As you bled for him, you don’t realize that someone else bled along with you. (AU where Gojo’s sealing happened differently)

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader, Nanami Kento x reader

No, things were not getting out of hand.

That was exactly the same mantra you kept on repeating and repeating and repeating ever since the day of Gojo’s sealing happened. It was the same life-saving mantra that kept your gradually slipping sanity in place. It has been weeks since Gojo had been kept here in his room after that unfortunate event. It was a miscalculation on his part, but no one had expected Geto to pull a trick like that and lock Gojo inside his own body. 

You had all been playing into his hands, after all. 

You turned to spare your fiancé another look of dismay---so strong, but also so helpless. You willed him to snap out of his comatose state and just stand up to kiss you again. You would be dreaming if that happened.

Someone called your name.

Your head snapped awfully fast to Gojo’s. You heard him! He was finally awake, like you were imagining just now and---

“Aren’t you going to eat yet?”

---it wasn’t his voice.

 A frown taking its form on your face, you turned to the direction of the voice as your lips curled downwards to a pout. 

Nanami was as supportive as he could be, and you were willing to bet that if he wasn’t around, then you would have lost your mind already. Because of your increasing distress, however, you find his constant reminders exhausting.

“I’m not hungry,” you sighed impatiently, burying your hand in your tangled hair, “If you are, because I’m sure you are, then go eat without me.”

He fixed you a sullen glower. “You haven’t eaten for two days. Besides, you getting sick because of your self-neglect will do no one any good.”

You sighed, fully aware that he was right. Yet, as your hand slips into Gojo’s unmoving fingers, you couldn’t bear the thought of eating while he lied here rather lifelessly.

Nanami seemed to notice your sudden downcast face. “Why don’t I just bring you something? You need to eat.”

“Thank you, Nanami-san. But maybe later. I promise I’ll try.”

Despite his stoney demeanor, he winced. He sat down beside you with hunched shoulders. “Do you think Gojo is going to be happy knowing you wasted away while you waited for him to come back?”

You turned your head to him, only to find his face only inches away from yours, his warm breath ghosting your cheeks. He too was taken aback with the proximity. It was your first time to actually see his brown eyes this close, how they glimmered like gold for a minute under the filtered sunlight. 

Then he stood up, before you could see the inexplicable pain corroding his eyes. 

Nanami watched you flicker your gaze back to Gojo’s sleeping form. An invisible hand reached into his chest cavity and squeezed his heart into a bloody pulp---but whose hand was it anyway? 

Was it Gojo’s? The person lying on the bed where you were seated, where you had cried on for endless nights? Was it yours? The person whom he was impossibly enthralled to? 

Or was it his own? 

Nanami ran his cold, stiff fingers through his short blond hair. “I’ll go get some coffee and a sandwich. You’re going to eat them whether you like it or not.” 

He left without another word, finally allowing you to release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You turned back to Gojo. How you wished for him to open his eyes so you could gaze into the ethereal beauty they held.

“Hang in there,” you pleaded, pressing your forehead unto his cold hand, “We’ll find a way to free you from that seal. Just wait for us. Hang in there for me.”

Your eyelids fluttered open, revealing the irises that were clouded with a thick layer of desperation.

“Please.”

Your heart slowly cracked inside of you as all the other emotions mellowed. But the pain lingered. It ate away every little hope that remained inside you.

You, however, failed to notice Nanami standing behind the doorway where the door was left slightly open. His heart shattered along with yours, and he could do nothing else but watch you love someone else.

Belated happy birthday, Nanamin! I'm sorry it had to be angst :(

[altrodent]

Blog Contents

Welcome! This is a catalog of every fic I’ve written. Any slight spicy/NSFW themes will be accompanied with: ❤️‍🔥but I exclusively write fluff!

(Check their warnings for more info!)

Borderlands

Handsome Jack

• Ignited Passion ❤️‍🔥

Timothy Lawrence

• Life Saver

Mordecai

• Caregiving

Troy Calypso

• Tunnel Vision

Baseketball

Joe ‘Coop’ Cooper

• It’s a date ❤️‍🔥

• Kiss me on my Mouth! ❤️‍🔥

• Draft Tests

Doug ‘Reme’ Remer

• Charming

Coop x Reader x Remer

Just For You ❤️‍🔥

Donnie Darko

Donnie Darko

• In My Arms

Peacemaker

Adrian Chase

• Freckled Delight

Ghosts

Thomas Thorne

• Candles, Lanterns, and Fairy Lights

Marvel

Loki Laufeyson

• Wardrobe Malfunction ❤️‍🔥

Evil Dead

Ashley Williams

• Sheila

Wednesday

Xavier Thorpe

• Invisible Adoration (Pt.1)

• Invisible Adoration (Pt.2)

• The Perfect Evening

DC

Abner Krill

• Sundress

• Dating Headcannons

Encino Man

Stoney Brown

• Honey Bun

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington

• Not Losing You

The Mighty Boosh

Vince Noir

• Tension

Sleep Token

Vessel

•Cycle (Part 1)

Hey! Like obscure characters, or even like my stories? I take requests for the low low price of free! Don’t be shy to leave comments or requests 🩷

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Poll - 10/13/23

Descriptions Below (sorry for my terrible summaries):

-

Peter Parker (Noir) X Fem Reader - Title: It Had To Be You - Fluff/Angst;

Summary: After falling into your dimension, Peter tries to find a way back to his, but doesn't expect falling a third time... Falling for you. But as the years go by, Peter never expected to run into two familiar faces, realizing that he doesn't have a choice but to leave you. Post Into The Spiderverse.

-

Peter B. Parker X GN Reader - Title: Chrysanthemums, Dahlias, and Lavender - Fluff/Angst;

Summary: Peter B. sits with you and remembers the day he met you. From meeting on the playground, walking down high school halls, and sharing your first kiss... Post Into The Spiderverse.

-

Jaime Reyes X GN Reader - Title: Blue With Envy - Fluff/Slight Angst;

Summary: When Jaime finds out who your favorite superhero is, he can't help but feel a little bit jealous. Post Blue Beetle.

-

Stoney Brown X GN Reader - Title: Crazy For You - Fluff/Mini Angst (Requested);

Summary: Stoney asks you to Prom.

-

Dean Winchester X Fem Reader - Title: Sleeping Beauty - Fluff/Slight Angst (Requested);

Summary: Dean meets the Reader at her place of work, a sweet little diner that sells the best homemade pie. After they start dating, Dean has no trouble helping take care of the Reader who has narcolepsy.

[mellowswriting]

Home

pairing || Marcus Pike x fem!Reader

summary || Welcome home, Baby Pike! Sneak peeks of Marcus Pike being the best father and husband in the world.

words || 3,985

warnings || pregnancy and labor (no graphic detail), allusions to sex, BABY DADDY MARCUS PIKE Y’ALL, a somewhat physical altercation (Between Marcus and a stranger), fluff, mentions of breastfeeding, referenced breeding kink

Main Masterlist  |  Join the taglist!

You never expect your life to change on a Tuesday at two o’clock in the afternoon. In fact, you expected it to change three days prior on your due date, but Baby Pike decided that they wanted to make their entrance into the world a total surprise to everyone. After a morning full of what you thought were Braxton Hicks contractions, your water broke right in the middle of the living room. A small surprised yelp came from you, one that had Marcus scrambling from the kitchen to your side in an instant.

“Honey, what is it? Are you okay?” He asked, his eyebrows pinched together in worry.

“Yeah.” You said breathily, chuckling slightly. “Yeah, my water just broke.”

“What?” Marcus whispered and you watched as the realization broke across his face. He immediately held you at your forearms and eased you back to sit on the couch, a smile slowly growing on his face as he knelt in front of you. “Okay.”

“Oh my god, Marcus.” You stared at him, eyes wide, hands rubbing your belly almost absentmindedly. “Marcus, we’re having a baby.”

“Holy shit, we’re having a baby!” Marcus cried out excitedly and you couldn’t help but pull him forward to give him a kiss, one he eagerly reciprocated before pulling back suddenly. “I have to call Dr. Weston!”

At first, you had been pretty worried about how Marcus was going to handle your labor - the man could barely handle it when you had a headache, for god’s sake. But to your surprise, he shouldered the role of birthing partner with a calm demeanor. Firm and steadfast, Marcus let you drape your arms over his shoulders to support yourself through some particularly rough contractions, his voice low and reassuring as he met each of your fears with steady encouragement.

It really shouldn’t have surprised you, in hindsight.

Marcus practically ran after Dr. Weston to scrub up with her, intent on helping catch his little one ever since she brought it up and you confirmed that it was okay over and over; he never wanted to overstep, especially during such a serious, life-changing moment. His excitement was a beacon through your pain and exhaustion and frustration.

The last few pushes were rough. You were exhausted, everything hurt, and you were just over it. You were over all of it, and you wanted that damn baby out and you wanted to fucking sleep. Marcus could tell, his eyebrows pulled together in worry, but the second he stood from between your legs to return to your side, you gritted out that if he didn’t stay right there and help bring his child into the world, you would kill him yourself.

Understandable, but not your proudest moment.

With a dozen more pushes and the encouragement of both Dr. Weston and your fiancé, a shrill cry pierced the room, followed immediately by your fiancé’s amazed whispers of “Oh my god, oh my god”. Your little one was lifted up to your chest by Marcus’s sure hands.

“He’s so perfect.” You whispered, your voice hoarse and barely audible over his wails, tears of pain and exhaustion and joy falling once more as you cradled the perfect little baby against your chest. You laughed wetly and looked up at Marcus, your tears mirrored on his face, and you couldn’t help but say, “I told you he was a boy!”

“You were right.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your hair before gazing back at his son and laying his gloved hand on his back. He didn’t bother trying to hold back the tears and neither did you. “You were so right. He’s so beautiful.”

After you and your son were both cleaned up and settled and one extremely personal visit from the hospital’s lactation consultant, you laid in the hospital bed with little Oliver held at your breast. The tiny baby was just as exhausted as you were it seemed, his eyes fluttering shut as he suckled. Marcus paced by the bedside, his phone cradled to his ear as he spoke to his parents.

“Yeah, she was amazing. You and Dad can come by once she gets some sleep, they’re both pretty tired.” Marcus kept his voice low even though he knew you weren’t asleep, trying to let you at least rest for a little bit. “Oh, he’s perfect. Seven pounds, eight ounces. Twenty inches long. He’s got a head full of hair, just like I did.”

The pride and happiness in his voice made you smile despite the exhaustion and soreness that radiated through your body. Marcus sat next to you once his call was over, resting his head on your arm as he gazed at you.

“Thank you.” Marcus whispered. His eyes were shining with more tears and an appreciation that took your breath away. “You have given me everything I’ve ever wanted and I just… thank you.”

“No, thank you.” You chuckled quietly. “I’m sorry I threatened to kill you.”

Marcus shrugged, an amused smile on his face. “I don’t blame you.”

You puckered your lips in a silent request for a kiss, something Marcus gave without hesitation. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Marcus gave you another kiss before leaning back in his seat, content to sit and watch the miracle that was his life. “Get some sleep, my love.”

---------

The first weeks at home with your little boy only confirmed the suspicions you had since the moment you met Marcus Pike - he was an amazing father. Beyond that, he was an amazing partner. Despite your insistence that he didn't need to, Marcus took it upon himself to bring you a glass of water and anything else you could possibly need every time you nursed. A pillow to prop up your feet, a book to read, the remote to pick a show to watch. Only when he was sure there was nothing more he could do, Marcus would sit next to you, happy to just enjoy the moment together.

A lot of promises were made, way back in the beginning of your pregnancy, a few of which you didn't even remember at first. But Marcus did, and that man followed through. Each time a tiny wail would echo through your home past ten o’clock at night, Marcus tossed back the blankets and was out of bed before you could even sit up all the way. Sometimes he would deliver a little bundle of hungry baby to your arms and then whisk him away back to his bed once his belly was full. Other times you would hear Marcus over the baby monitor as he hummed and sang and whispered to his son as he changed his diaper and rocked him back to sleep.

“Thank you. You’ve given me so much, I… thank you.” He murmured into your shoulder as he settled into bed behind you one night, having just put Oliver into his bed. “I love you so much and I promise you, I will give you the entire damn world.”

“You already have.” You whispered as you turned to kiss him.

---------

Somehow time managed to drag and fly by at the same time, the days, weeks, and months morphing together. Oliver grew like a weed, sleeping well and eating more than you thought he could even hold in his little belly. Every milestone he hit made pride swell inside you both. Watching Marcus interact with Oliver took your breath away more often than not. The second you passed Oliver off into his father's capable hands, Marcus was cooing at him, lifting him up in the air to see that gummy smile and hear that high peal of giggles each time Marcus gently jostled him about.

Going out in public with Oliver had a tendency to be nerve wracking, especially those first few times. But your worries about germs and public diaper changes quickly gave way to the fear and frustration that came from complete and utter strangers. It was the last thing you expected to be a problem and maybe that was naive of you, but holy shit. How many people thought it was perfectly acceptable to just harass parents while they’re out with their babies?

Too fucking many.

Oliver, on the other hand, loved going to stores, although the rhythmic swaying as he snuggled into either you or Marcus in his ring sling almost always had him knocked out within the first fifteen minutes. One second, those big brown eyes were taking in the bright lights and the next, he was conked out with his little cheek squished in the most adorable way.

He was snoozing against your chest as you perused the ice cream aisle, Marcus trailing a couple feet behind you with the cart as you both tried to pick out some flavors. You were so focused on the billions of choices in the freezer in front of you that you didn’t even notice the way the other man in the aisle was eyeing you.

“How old?” He asked, motioning to Oliver.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. All of the questions, god were you over it, but you weren't trying to cause a scene in the middle of the ice cream aisle. “Uh, four months.”

“Congratulations!” The man said and before you could fully process what was happening in front of you, he was reaching a hand out seeming to… touch your baby, what the hell did this guy think he’s doing!? You twisted away on instinct as both of hands came up to cover Oliver protectively, but before you could find your voice from under your shock to give that man a piece of your mind, Marcus swiftly stepped between you and grasped the man’s wrist.

In all your years of knowing Marcus, you had never seen his face so stoney. The muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth, his eyes alight with anger, and all you could do was stare, wide-eyed at this fierce and protective side of your fiancé you had never seen before. Marcus didn’t say anything - the punishing grip he had on his wrist was enough to have him murmuring an apology and backing off. His face didn’t soften until he looked at you, his hand settling over yours on Oliver’s back as if he had to reassure himself that his son was still cradled safely between you.

“Are you okay?” Marcus asked.

You still couldn’t find your voice, though this time it was stuck behind a lump of admiration and appreciation and desire because holy shit. Watching Marcus shift from his usual goofy, loving self to someone who would readily and easily break the wrist of a man who had the audacity to try to touch you or your child… it stoked something deep in your belly, some fundamental, basic urge that made you crave him.

“C’mon, we don’t need ice cream. We need to go home.” You said, grabbing him by his forearm and dragging him back to the cart.

“Wait, I’m sorry.” Marcus’s voice was full of worry. “I acted like a caveman and it was ridiculous, I shouldn’t have -”

You cut him off with a kiss, leaning up on your tiptoes to firmly press your lips against his with your hand at the side of his neck. It pulled a surprised sound from Marcus but he gladly reciprocated, his hand finding your hip by habit.

“We aren’t going home because I’m mad, Marcus.” You whispered almost conspiratorially before jokingly covering the side of Oliver’s head, as if to keep him from hearing you. “We’re going home because I need you to fuck me.”

Marcus’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but a playful grin followed immediately after and he immediately grabbed the cart in one hand and intertwined his fingers with yours in the other. The shopping trip was only half successful grocery-wise, but in the end it was worth it to be able to drag him into bed and show him just how much you appreciated that protective side of him.

---------

The last thing Marcus wanted to do was go back to work. Walking out the door and leaving you and Oliver at home had been damn near impossible, but he really didn’t have much of a choice. He had used every second of his paternity leave and if he tried to weasel out of going back into the office, he was pretty sure he would get fired.

That first day was the worst. Marcus knew better than to call or text you constantly, but he missed being able to just see you and Oliver whenever he wanted. So instead, he checked his phone constantly, glancing over and over again just in case he received a text from you. Every now and then his phone would chime and it made him grin with each and every picture or small update you sent him. The little reminders of what he had waiting for him are what got him through the day.

Each week that passed, the wait for the clock to chime five o’clock became easier. His passion for his job reignited once he was steadily working again and his life felt so much more full than he ever thought it could be. He had a job he loved with an amazing team and a family at home that he cherished. It choked him up if he thought about it all too much, how he endured heartache after heartache, all the while thinking he would never actually get the life he envisioned for himself.

It made coming home to you and his son that much sweeter. Each evening played out by the same pattern; Marcus would plant a kiss to your lips and then Oliver’s head as he scooped him up to snuggle him, inquiring about how your day was and intent on hearing every silly little detail of whatever you got up to that day. A satisfied little smile found his face as just how full and happy his life was.

Bedtime routine was something Marcus excelled at; if there was a competition for getting a baby settled into their bed, he would win first place every damn time. You were jealous, there were no two ways about it. Yes, you could get Oliver down for the night just fine, but there was just something about the calming air Marcus carried about him that had the little one’s eyes fluttering shut.

You claimed that he was magic, but Marcus was sure it was just his boring office stories that knocked his son out.

Weekends were something special to Marcus. He loved the lazy mornings where he didn’t have to heave himself out of bed and creep around to get ready for work without waking the baby. Being able to instead appreciate how pretty you looked lost in your dreams and wake you with soft kisses was a gift he appreciated even before your family had grown.

Except now he got the added pleasantry of scooping up Oliver when he woke and bringing him into the big bed for you to feed him before Marcus could make him laugh that adorable laugh by popping up from behind the sheet he held in front of his face. Those cozy moments were his happy place, the fuel that got him through long days and sleepless nights.

Since the weekend brought all three of you together for the entire day, Marcus had taken a liking to offering to gather up Oliver after he had a full belly so you could have some time for yourself. It left him in awe just how much you did for your family, how hard you worked to keep the fires burning at home, and he wanted you to keep your fire burning within as well. The soft sounds of music and the perfumey smells of your bath products coming from under the bathroom door always made him smile, little Oliver curled against his chest. It was a win-win all the way - you got to relax without the immediate responsibility of childcare hanging over your head and Marcus got to bond with his kiddo.

Afterwards, Marcus would always bring the three of you together for some quality family time. Whether it was a simple walk through the neighborhood to the park a few streets away or a simple picnic in the backyard, Marcus loved getting to see you and Oliver bathed in sunlight, both of you cracking up as you tickled him while he tried to wiggle from your grasp. Oliver always ended up asleep at the end of the entire ordeal, exhausted from all of the fun and action, and Marcus always volunteered to carry him home, even when he had the empty stroller in front of him.

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You woke up feeling beyond well-rested. The heaviness that often plagued your eyelids had eased completely, leaving your eyes opening easily to blink against the sunlight peeking through the window. The sheets next to you were rumpled and cold and you shot upright on instinct. When you fell asleep, both Marcus and Oliver had been curled up with you, your son safe between both of his parents as he snored lightly. He wasn’t feeling well, a small fever and a case of the sniffles making him more clingy than usual, and neither you or Marcus could deny the puppy-dog eyes he gave from the foot of your bed when he toddled into your bedroom from his own.

The sound of Sunday morning cartoons eased the worry that prickled down your spine. With a quick stretch and a low groan, you tossed back the blankets and quickly made your way into the living room, and the sight that met you brought a small smile to your face. Both of your boys were still in their pajamas, a colorful pile of crayons between them where they lay on the floor as they scribbled away in a shared coloring book, the cartoons on the television entirely forgotten as father and son created yet another masterpiece sure to end up on the refrigerator with the half a dozen others. It took a moment for you to catch Marcus’s eye and he smiled at you in greeting before leaning closer to Oliver to whisper, “Guess who’s awake?”

Oliver’s head immediately snapped up to look around and he scrambled to his feet the second he saw you standing in the doorway. “Mama, mama, mama!”

“Good morning, little man!” You greeted as you scooped him off of his feet, his arms wrapping around your neck and tightening with a dramatic groan. You settled him on your hip and brushed his wild hair from his face. “Feeling better?”

“Better!” Oliver exclaimed, nodding so fast it made even you dizzy.

“I’m glad, baby.” You ruffled his hair, chuckling at his dismayed response of ducking away from your hand and wiggling from your grasp. His little feet took off running the second they touched the carpet, but your arms weren’t empty for long. No, Marcus stepped right into them and wrapped you in a warm hug, planting a kiss to the top of your head.

“We decided to let you sleep in.” Marcus said, his chest rumbling against you as you relaxed into his embrace. “His fever is gone, has been since around 7:30.”

“Good, I was worried we’d have to take him to the pediatrician.” You murmured before leaning up to kiss him soft and slow, breaking away at the sound of a pan hitting the floor in the kitchen. “Sounds like someone’s trying to make breakfast again.”

“Better get in there before he spills flour all over the floor again.” Marcus chuckled, giving your ass a quick pat as he followed the sounds of destruction.

Once Oliver had gobbled down a bowl of cereal and you had a cup of coffee to sip on, all three of you settled on the floor to finish up the drawing that Oliver insisted he needed both of his parent’s help for. He was all too happy to slap it on the refrigerator under one of his letter magnets before scampering off to drag all of his toys out for the first of many times. Marcus plopped down on the couch next to you, situating himself so he could lay his head in your lap.

Those pretty brown eyes of his fluttered shut with a pleased hum as you began running your hands through his hair, the untamed curls fluffy and soft between your fingers. He winced slightly at the familiar sound of Oliver’s toy chest dumping over in his room and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“So, I was thinking…” Marcus murmured, sleepiness returning to his voice under the relaxation your talented hands brought him.

“Don’t hurt yourself in the process.” You teased.

A pout formed on Marcus’s face and you leaned down to kiss his put out lower lip so he would continue. “I was thinking we could talk about if you want to do all of this again.”

“All of what?” You asked, your brain still booting up from sleep. Your fingers paused in his hair when it clicked. “Do you mean another baby?”

“Yeah.” Marcus’s voice was soft, quiet, as if he was fearing rejection.

“That’s ironic, actually.” You said with a small laugh. “I was thinking about asking you if you wanted to have another baby.”

“What?” Marcus sat up to face you, hope and excitement bright in his eyes. “Really?”

“Of course,” You shrugged as you reached out for his hand, your thumb swiping back and forth over his knuckles. “Ollie is gonna be in preschool soon and I think three-ish years is a good gap for siblings. He really would make such a great big brother. Besides, I already told you I wanted a full house. Wait, we would definitely have to find a new house. Shit. I didn’t even think of that. Maybe we should just -”

Marcus’s lips crashed against yours, effectively cutting off the worried words that were about to spill from you in a rush. The kiss was messy and broken up by the huge smile Marcus wore. “We can start looking now. That way we’ll have a new house by the time I get you pregnant again.”

A shiver rocked down your spine at his words, at how excited he was at the prospect of having your belly swell with his baby again. Marcus pressed his forehead to yours, eyes closed, the both of you just breathing in the moment of electricity. “Are you really ready to do this?”

“Hell yes,” Marcus said with an eager laugh, his voice lowering as he continued. “And this time I’ll know exactly what I’m doing. I’ll know I’m filling you up, getting you nice and round with my baby again.”

“Fuck, Marcus.” You whimpered, that familiar heat pooling in your belly.

“Just you wait until tonight, sweetheart.” Mischief was plain on his face, his bottom lip momentarily captured between his teeth as he gripped your chin in a gentle, yet firm hold. “I can’t wait to get you pregnant again.”

With that lewd thought, Marcus gave you another firm kiss before leaving you there on the couch to make another cup of coffee, probably to give you both the space to cool off. With a loud sigh, you leaned heavily into the cushions unable to contain the grin you wore. How lucky were you? An amazing husband who doubled as an amazing father to your sweet, happy little boy. Two thriving careers. And even more plans for your family’s future. Soon your son hopped his way back into the living room, insisting you and Marcus come see the tower he made with his blocks. Hand in hand, the two of you listened as Oliver explained his creation, happiness and hope hovering in the air around you.

[deepseavibez]

Hold Me In The Silence || KNJ

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-> Picture Source - Pinterest

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Hold Me In The Silence [Seokjin x Reader]

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Genre - Seokjin Drabble; Best friend; Aftermath;

Summary - There was no sign to stay.

🎶 - Silence - Rene' Miller

Warning - Suicide; Depression; Anxiety; Pain; Major Character Death; (implied) Violence; Angst ONLY;

Word Count - 1.2k

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Nothing could have prepared him for it. No one could ever be prepared for something like that.

Normal was different for certain people. Routine was different. Habits and hobbies, and internal wars.

So of course, only when you knew a person, understood their times, their ticks and triggers - could you understand when they were acting different.

Maybe it was eating less or more. Sleeping less or too much or not at all. Maybe it was smiling like their problems had evaporated into thin air when just yesterday they were devastated.

But what do you do when there are no signs. What do you do when you see them every single day, when they meet up at the cafe round the corner for coffee exactly on time, and didn't ghost texts. What did you do when they listened to their favourite music and laughed with genuine mirth in their eyes no less than twenty-four hours before.

And what did you do when you showed up for dinner like every other Friday since you were seven, to find that person no longer your person anymore.

Seokjin sat on your bed, one he'd slept in numerous times before, holding you close, eating pizza, arguing over anime kins and sitting in comfortable silence sharing memes.

Clutching at your blanket, fisting it until his fingers protested, his knuckles stood white against the blood stains.

His face betrayed nothing. A stoney expression, a solid mask in place, one would say he felt nothing. If only they knew the wave he rode, a cascade waiting to happen, if only they focused on his eyes, the brown edged to a black pool, an unforgiving rage at the memories reaching out to twist mercilessly in his heart.

You didn't have to do this. You didn't. Maybe wherever you were you knew that. Maybe he could have saved you, again.

But would that have been fair; would it have been right to ask him to be there for you, as he had every time before.

Numerous asks, countless phone calls at times of the night meant for peace, tear stained shirts and tight hugs, rushing home to make sure you tried nothing after the first time.

How would that be fair. How would it be fair to keep talking about how you felt guilty to feel bad. How many times did he have to convince you that the smokey haze you thought you choked on could go away, that with slow breaths and counting numbers and placing your palm flat on the coldness of the solid floor, that the haze could be navigated through.

How many times would he have to hold you, hold your hands away from your arms, the scratching you did out of an anxious habit causing irreparable damage let alone bruises.

How many times would he have to listen to you scream, scream into the empty room, scream for a sign, that it was worth surviving, that it lied to you, that you were worth the time and the effort, that you needed to stick through it.

How many lies would you have to tell yourself that you could. Just so you could be selfish to stick around and watch him smile. That you wanted to watch his eyes light up as you cooked with him in the kitchen and threw flour on him. That you wanted him to be around forever because you simply didn't know how to do it without him.

How should you even start the conversation about your neighbours numbers in his phone, and how he kept tabs on you, leaving and returning home. How should you hold his hand and show him the amount of scars you had left on him. How did you begin to make him understand that nothing good came out of checking in every few hours, and sending meals to your apartment to make sure you ate, and calling you off sick when you forget you needed to sleep, or calling himself off sick when he saw you needed him.

How did he not see you were drowning him too.

He found you, on the bed, curled up like you were asleep, clutching at the pillow like it was an anchor.

He had a key. Of course he had a key. He knew your phone passcode so he could check on your latest searches and roamed your socials that had a voice for the words you couldn't find.

Friday was your day off work. It happened to be one of his busier days that day. And the one time, he didn't keep tabs, he didn't phone, he didn't text, is the day he would have to blame himself for, for the rest of his life.

He hadn't had a reaction yet. Sure the sight of your blood shook him. But only because there was so much of it. Having stitched you up before, bandaging cuts, and patching you up outside knowing the inside was something he could never reach to help heal.

Your eyes were closed already. Your pulse non-existent. Your bond with the only man who ever loved you, who breathed life into you, separated from you forever.

You thought you were unlocking manacles, but you actually ripped away a piece of him he would never be able to replace.

He would be fine. He would be better off. He didn't need to deal with your whining. Nightmares and panic attacks. He didn't need to hear that you were scared. That you didn't know what you were doing. That you would be alone forever. That your friends would get tired of you.

He didn't need to know you stared at the mirror in disdain and couldn't fathom how ugly you were. He didn't need to know you ate less because you wanted to exercise and couldn't. He didn't know his food was always given to the homeless. He didn't need to know you didn't sleep because you wrote your heart away into pages of pain that would never see the light of day.

He didn't need to know the scars that faded on your arms, were between your thighs. He didn't need to know there were pills under the mattress just in case. Or that the rope that lined the bed was easily removable for use.

He didn't need to know you switched the lights of early and sat on the floor alone crying because your depression was winning.

He didn't need to know you got high with a junkie down the road on late walks when the apartment was too claustrophobic.

He didn't know you were a husk of someone he once new. You felt nothing. You had no need for anything. Life was nothing.

He didn't need to know you did him more wrong alive than dead.

He didn't need to know.

He couldn't keep you up anymore. His arms were tired. His eyes full of caution, his hands too gentle, his words too safe.

As he stared at your room. As he slowly accepted the truth. As he squeezed his eyes shut in agony. As he blamed himself and wished for more signs to have saved you.

As he still wished he could have mended your soul. As he still wished he could have held you, through your cries and your silence.

But he needed peace. He needed you to break his heart. For good. He needed silence. And that was what you gave him.

Because every tear was an inch closer to the precipice. Every painful comeback too little progress to be a recovery. A loss of words, or resilience, a trigger pull closer to an inevitable russian roulette.

You were too broken... too broken for a broken world.

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[yehet-about-it]

I Like Me Better | 17 - Apology

~ A Wayv Social Media AU Series ~

< Prev || Series Masterlist || Next >

Synopsis: You’ve just moved into a new apartment with your best friend Yangyang, but you’re immediately faced with a problem: your incredibly noisy upstairs neighbour Xiao Dejun, or to friends, Xiaojun. You spend the first few weeks of your acquaintance hating his guts, but after a sincere apology and a fascinating revelation about his passions and motivations you slowly begin to see past his cold exterior to discover the real him. What will happen as you get closer to this troubled boy and how will those closest to you react?

Pairing: Reader x Xiaojun

Themes and Warnings: Explicit language, mild sexual content, mild violence and references to drinking/alcohol. Deals with themes of toxic masculinity, insecurity, gaslighting (sort of), and jealousy…

Disclaimer: All work is fictional, and not an accurate depiction of any real people mentioned within the story, nor is it intended to be an accurate or realistic depiction of said people.

Words: 2.2k

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“Hey.”

“Hey.” The atmosphere was awkward as you stood in the lobby of your apartment building having agreed to talk with Xiaojun. You had slipped out unnoticed by Yangyang, who would most likely be none too pleased at your willingness to spend time with the man who had inadvertently given you a bruised neck during his drunken tirade, and not in the pleasant way.

You turned left out of your building, following Xiaojun in silence until he spoke up again. “Are you okay to walk? I know it’s hot but there’s this place I know a mile or two away I thought we could go to.” You confirmed you were okay, having dressed appropriately in shorts and sneakers and sidled up to Xiaojun so you were walking side by side. You were thankful for the noise of the city as you walked, the both of you hesitant to start the conversation you knew you needed to have. “So uh.” Xiaojun chewed on his lip as he tried to find the right words to start, a habit he’d picked up over the years when he was nervous. “I really am sorry about the other night y/n. I really regret what I said, it was awful and I was drunk and- and just angry about some stuff, so I understand if you don’t like me, but I really want to make things right.” You nodded slowly, taking in his words. “Yeah, it was pretty awful… but I don’t think you’re a bad guy Xiaojun, you’re just- just kina frustrating. I think I can forgive you, but I just wanna know why you lashed out like that…” Since that day you went to his café, you had realised Xiaojun wasn’t just the stoney, cold bad boy he seemed to be on the surface; that there was a much softer and gentler side to him. When you saw his face light up at the sight of Bella, and the genuine carefree smile on his face when he held her, to the serene look on his face as he strummed on his guitar. It all told you there was something more to this boy, and you wanted to find out what. You wanted to find out why he was such a stubborn ass, when he was clearly a softie deep down. And you wanted to know why he fought with his friends so much. Xiaojun sighed deeply at your request. “Lucas,” he said grimly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “He was going on at me about… stuff. He’s one of my best friends but he can be a right jerk.” You scoffed at the irony and Xiaojun looked at you. “Yeah takes one to know one right? But you know, he’s this big ripped model and thinks he’s invincible, while I’m just this scrawny little nobody… He’s always bragging about girls and telling me how useless I am when it comes to that, and the other night he just took it too far. I guess he got in my head and I didn’t handle it well, and I took it out on you, so I’m sorry…”

Your eyes softened a little as you listened to Xiaojun rant. You never imagined that he’d be holding on to insecurities like that, let alone that one of his own best friends would be rubbing it in his face. You knew boys bantered over stuff like that, but it’s small things like that which can trigger peoples insecurities and produce some grim results, so you could understand where Xiaojun was coming from. “Oh… Lucas did mention something like that…” Xiaojun looked at you in annoyance. “Of course he did,” he grumbled. There was a pause before Xiaojun spoke again. “So, do you think you can forgive me? And I promise I’ll keep my music down or wear headphones from now on too.” You chuckled at his last statement. “Yeah, I think so. I get why you were annoyed, Lucas is a bit… much. But you shouldn’t have brought my friends into it. And next time? Maybe go a little easier on the liquor.” “Next time?” Xiaojun said playfully, his expression turning into a smirk, to which you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, sorry, I know. I promise it won’t happen again y/n.” “Well thank you, apology accepted.” A small smile played on Xiaojun’s lips as you answered, mostly out of relief, but also out of astonishment at your forgiveness. In truth, he’d been a complete and utter asshole, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if you despised him and had said you never wanted anything to do with him ever again, but mercifully, you hadn’t.

You continued the rest of your walk quietly, making small talk about how long he’d lived in Hannam, who Renjun was and so forth. Eventually you came to a small trail on a hill around the back of the infamous “Hannam The Hill” complex, that led to a small viewpoint, shrouded in trees. “Wow, I never knew this was here…” You breathed as Xiaojun led you out onto the platform, overlooking most of Seoul. “Yeah, not many people know about it. I come here when I need to think,” Xiaojun admitted leaning forwad on the wooden barrier. “It’s beautiful, you can see so much of the city…” You stopped gazing out across the city as you caught your breath from the climb. Who knew Xiaojun was the sort to come somewhere as pretty as this in his down time? Really you were humbled that he trusted you enough to bring him to such a private place for him. “Heh, yeah it’s pretty nice, especially at night. Helps me clear my head.”

You spent the next few moments in comfortable silence, appreciating the view, feeling the warm sun oon your face. You’d just closed your eyes, embracing the little bit of fresh air you were getting as a change from the usual stuffy dusty air of the city when Xiaojun spoke again. “Thank you y/n…” You blinked back at him. “For what?” You asked, puzzled. “For being so patient, and giving me another chance. Not many people do…” Your heart pounded in your chest, stunned by the moment of sincerity. “You don’t need to thank me Dejun, everyone deserves a second chance,” you said, smiling softly back at him. “I think you’ve given me more than two chances. And I really mean it. You’ve been more patient than most. I mean, you even came to see me sing at that dumb café. That… really meant a lot. My musical career hasn’t exactly taken off and at this point I’ll take all the audience I can get….” You looked Xiaojun in the eyes to respond sincerely, but saw an indescribable sadness in them that made your heart sink. “Really it mas my pleasure but… that must be hard,” you whispered. “You could say that. Doesn’t help when your dad and brother are always on your case about why you’re not getting anywhere, telling you ‘you’re wasting your life in Korea’, and that ‘if you’re still working at that coffee bar in 12 months you’re coming back to China’… Just because they’re big hotshots in the industry back home.” Here was the baggage you had been looking for. You had guessed he had more on his plate than he let on, and clearly this was it. You didn’t know why he was trusting you with all this, but you were glad he was. “Wow… That’s rough, I can’t believe they’d say that to you…” Your brows furrowed as you took in everything Xiaojun was saying, and you couldn’t help but feel sympathy towards him. “Yeah well I’ve dealt with it most of my life. The successful favorite brother. I’m just the failure. You know, your friend called me that, ‘a failed musician’…” “He did what?!” Your eyes widened at what Xiaojun had just told you. You couldn’t believe that Kun of all people would say that to him. You were definitely having words. “Heh, don’t worry I’ve been called worse, I’m used to it…” Xiaojun snorted indignantly. “No, no that’s not okay… Kun should know better…” You shook your head, genuinely feeling a little guilty. “Really its fine, it was a heat of the moment thing. And I guess after what I said on Saturday it can be forgiven…” You nodded. “Still, he shouldn’t have said that. It’s a hard industry to get into and you’re trying your best. Your voice is incredible Xiaojun, any label would be lucky to snap you up. It just takes a little more exposure, putting yourself out there, and I’m sure you’ll make it.” Xiaojun looked genuinely taken aback. “Well it’s definitely not as simple as that, but thanks.” There was a bashful smile on his face as he thanked you, seeming genuinely grateful for your compliment.

As the conversation stilled, you stood against the wooden fence of the observation deck, taking in the view of the city in silence and feeling the cool breeze trickling through your hair, providing some relief from the hot sun. Then you had a thought, as you realised there was still something you hadn’t cleared up. “By the way,” you looked up at Xiaojun, a small smirk on your face. “It’s really not like that with me and Kun…” Xiaojun looked at you quizzically. “He’s pretty much like my big brother. I’ve known him since I was in middle school. His parents are friends with mine and he went to school with my brother… I guess he’s always just looked out for me like a little sister. He looks out for all of us. So you can drop the whole sugar daddy thing.” Xiaojun snickered. “Heh yeah. Sorry about that… Guess I was just jealous,” he admitted, much to your surprise. “Oh…” you said, flushing a little and clearing your throat. “You know, I think if you two gave eachother a chance, you might get on.” You brushed Xiaojun’s comment off choosing to ignore it and work on reconciling him and Kun. Xiaojun scoffed. “I don’t think he’ll be willing to give me another chance after everything, especially that,” he said pointing to the bruise on your neck. “Well I don’t know, I have,” you shrugged. “Kun’s a good guy, he doesn’t hold grudges for long unless you really deserve it.” You paused, contemplating whether to tell Xiaojun what you were going to say next. “He’s a producer you know...” “What?” Xiaojun looked at you in surprise. “Kinda big time. He’s worked on some pretty big songs.” You knew Kun was going to be utterly mad at you for attempting to use him to help this guy, but nevertheless you wanted to try and give Xiaojun at least a little bit of hope, something positive to pull him out of his head. “Woah. Didn’t really have him down as the musical type.” “Oh really? What type did you have him down as then?” You said, playfully challenging Xiaojun to make another quip about Kun. “Honestly I don’t know. I didn’t put that much thought into it to be honest.” You both laughed, the glowing sun lighting up Xiaojun’s face as his eyes creased in genuine, happy laughter. “Well, maybe one day I can introduce you properly, he might be able to help you”. “Yeah one day. Let’s just focus on getting him to not hate me first,” Xiaojun said cynically, but with a tone of amusement in his voice.

You laughed, relieved that you could no longer feel the tension that had been between the two of you earlier, and that Xiaojun now seemed to have a genuine smile on his face. All the angst that had been clouding his aura before was now gone for the most part, and you happily enjoyed the rest of the afternoon, chatting and embracing the peace of Xiaojun’s little sanctuary. And when you got home, despite Yangyang’s nagging, you were filled with a resolve to actually make an effort with Xiaojun and get to know your mysterious neighbour.

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[acciomalfoy]

liquid luck (bill weasley x reader)

summary: reader is an exchange student that draws the attention of bill weasley just in time for valentines day

a/n: another collab with @fromashescomephoenixes yall already know the drill go follow her she is an incredible author as well as person!

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Lifting myself off of the stoney floor, I find myself in a comfortable office filled with trinkets. The circular walls are covered with serious looking portraits, their eyes lit by the glow of the warm fireplace I recently fell out of. As I rise and brush myself off, I find myself face to face with a phoenix.

I stare into it's eyes for a moment as they swirl in fiery embers of color, before I snap back to reality. It had been a long journey, and I would have an equally long day tomorrow given I was arriving mid term- on February 13th.

Turning towards the center of the room, I see a small group of people eagerly grinning towards me. I watched as the girl bobbed on the balls of her feet, and the boy stood, completely relaxed, with a welcoming stance.

“Ms. y/l/n, welcome to Hogwarts!” Albus Dumbledore’s voice greets me. I smiled, my nerves eased by the kind welcome that they had prepared.

“We are most pleased to have you here,” Mcgonagal nods towards me. After properly greeting both of them, I turn my attention to the two people my age, waiting to greet me.

“Oh my Godric! I’m so happy to meet you,” The dark brown, curly haired girl greeted me with a soft hug. Her russet brown skin seemed to radiate warmth as she pulled me into a kind hug. “I’m Anya, and it sounds like you’re in my house. So you’ll be seeing lots of me!” She smiled kindly and nodded towards the pale, freckled boy behind her, signalling for him to come up.

“G’day mate!” The boy said in an extremely poor Australian accent. His honey-gold eyes searched mine, hoping to see the laughing twinkle of his reflected in mind.

“Oh good evening dear chap!” I responded without missing a beat in an equally awful English accent. The red haired boy laughed and I couldn’t help but notice the deep brown flecked through his eyes. Almost like cinnamon.

“So, do you play quidditch?” The boy demanded, grinning still. I was about to respond with an affirmative, but I was cut off.

“Mr Weasley! Your name!” Mcgonagal snapped. I grinned, silently laughing at the situation.

“I’m Bill. Nice to meet you,” He held out his hand. Gently, I placed my small hand into his firm one, and shook.

“Y/n,” I responded.

“I’ll have to show you around sometime y/n.” Bill grinned.

“And I’ll have to show you to our dorm!” Anya exclaimed, taking your arm. “You’re a Hufflepuff, right?” I nodded, remembering Professor Mcgonagal’s brief trip to Koolangka, the Australian wizarding school, to sort me. The strange hat was very different to the process at Koolangka, but seemed to work nonetheless.

“Right-o,” I grinned, enjoying the way my words stood out slightly. We hurried through the castle as Anya explained the basics of what I needed to know to me. By the time we reached the basement, I was nearly asleep on my feet.

The soft golden bedding seemed all together much to inviting, and I slept as soon as my head hit the pillow.

•••

I woke up to four girls standing over me, and I yelped in surprise, causing them to step back slightly.

“You’re y/n, right? I’m Amelia Abbott,” A brown haired girl began talking, and proceeded to point at the rest of the Hufflepuff’s. “That’s Ella Finch-Fletchey, that’s Caroline Jordan, and this is Teresa Berg.” She finished, and I waved at the girls in turn.

“Nice to meet you all!” I said as I hopped out of bed, and Teresa instantly took my arm.

“Anya told us you and Bill Weasley hit it off. He hardly ever speaks to girls, but that’s because we’re always drooling over him.” She said, and her blonde locks swung as she spoke.

“He’s nice, I guess.” I said, albeit uncertainly, and the rest of the Hufflepuff’s giggled.

“We can’t wait for you to date!” Ella chattered, and Caroline shook her head.

“You’re scaring her, the poor thing. We’ll let you get changed and meet you down at the common room, you must be starving!” The four girls were off in a whirl as Caroline herded them out, and I shot her a grateful smile.

As the room stilled, I took a deep breath. I was really here, at Hogwarts, in the badger’s sett, the place I finally belonged.

I took my time putting on my Hufflepuff robes, the cheery yellow making me smile. With that smile came the thought of Bill Weasley’s blue eyes, and the odd feeling I had had around him.

“Y/n!” A voice that sounded like Ella called from the common room, and I did a final stroke of the hairbrush through my hair.

“Coming!” I called, and I set the hairbrush down as I looked in the mirror.

I was ready.

The group of girls led me down the hallway, occasionally pausing their giggling and teasing of each other to point out important land marks:

“And that’s where Ella snogged Simon Brown!” Teresa grinned as she pointed towards a particularly large statue of a goblin. Ella slugged Teresa's arm in a friendly manner, and Teresa stuck her tongue out before we continued to move on.

“Oh my! That’s where those third years got in a fight about quidditch last week,” Caroline nudged me, although I doubted whether or not this information would come in useful later.

Finally we reached the great hall, and made our ways to the hufflepuff table. I eagerly searched for some vegimite on toast, or a Ned Kelly pie. But I was sadly disappointed as my friends explained neither of those things exist in England. Instead, Ella plonked a bowl of oatmeal onto my plate.

“Dig in,” she winked. I sighed, resigning myself to the warm slop on my plate. It could be worse I reckon: she could have given me scrambled eggs.

I’m shaken from my silent contemplation of the evils of scrambled eggs by none other than Bill Weasley himself.

“Top of the mornin’” Bill greets in an exaggerated English accent this time.

“Merlin, am I ever going to here your real accent?” I try to look annoyed before slipping into a smile.

“Ay. That depends,” he attempts a Scottish accent this time. I suppose it’s a running joke at this point.

“On what?” I raise an eyebrow, while reaching for my juice. Upon doing so, I realise all five of my new friends are eagerly drinking up this juicy interaction.

“I was hoping to show you around,” he begins looking slightly nervous. I notice he has begun to twist his wand between his strong fingers. I nod reassuringly and he continues.

“But I’m busy with head boy duties and all, so we might have to break curfew...” I nearly leap at the adventure, but pause contemplating. Would it really be a good idea to risk being caught breaking rules already?

“It would be an adventure,” he suggests, smiling while his eyes toil with excitement.

“Well, you’ll have to make it worth my time...” I smirk slightly. He grabs my hand and shakes it eagerly.

“Just you wait y/n!”

•••

I go through the rest of the day eagerly curious for what Bill has in store for my grand tour of Hogwarts.

Although, I can’t tell who is more excited for it: me or the five girls who have discussed the breakfast occurrence at least seven times by now.

“Come on, Y/n! At least promise us you’ll snog his tonsils out!” Ella begged, and I whipped my head round to stare at her. We were currently lounging in the common room, with Amelia checking the time every five minutes.

“He’s showing me around the castle, not planning to pull me into an abandoned classroom!” I squealed, and the girls squealed alongside me, eager at the thought.

"Well he'll have to pull you into an abandoned classroom if he's going to give you a full tour!" Teresa laughed, teasing me.

Luckily, we were finally in our last class of the day. Which we happened to have with the Gryffindors.

“Please partner up!” Professor Mcgonagal announces. “We shall be practically applying our skills at transfiguring human features.” She pauses to allow the buzzing students to partner up. I turn around to see Teresa and Caroline looking apologetically towards me. I face the other way and find Ella and Anya in the same situation.

“Maybe we could have a group of three?” Caroline offers, sounding thoroughly unconvinced of Mcgonagal’s enthusiasm for the idea.

“No need!” Bill grins as he swaggers our way, and leans against my desk. “Partners?” I grin as a slight blush creeps up my neck. Biting my lip I nod and let him brush my hand to guide me across the room.

“Please only transfigure your partner with human features!” Mcgonagal reminds us, and I shiver slightly as I remember the time my brother was transfigured into a part-human part- platypus form last year.

“So, are you much good at transfiguration?” Bill asks conversationally. I take a moment to answer, concentrating on the transfiguration I’ll be attempting.

I decide to give him a beard, perhaps slightly inspired by Dumbledore’s. I flicked my wand in a short line, and smirked as a fiery red beard grew. Unfortunately, I made it slightly shorter than anticipated and...

Fuck. He looked hot with a beard. He raised an eyebrow. “So I’ll take that as a yes?” I giggled.

“Sure,” I admitted. We spent the rest of class firing spells back and forth until I had abnormally long pink hair, with large sapphire eyes. Bill was sporting equally vivid green locks with some slightly scary purple eyes. And a beard of the previously desired length.

Our laughter echoed through the hallway on our way to the great hall. Just before walking into the hall, Bill threw his arm around me as he laughed particularly hard.

The moment was broken as he glanced at his watch, and frowned.

“I’ll pick you up tonight. Some time close to midnight,” he shouted as he walked away. I watched as he walked in a relaxed manner down the halls. Although, I raised my eyebrow as I watched him take a small sip of a strangely sparkling substance.

We were still sat in the common room at 12 o’clock, and there had been no sign of Bill Weasley.

“Maybe he forgot?” Caroline murmured, and Teresa bit her lip as she shook her head slightly.

“We ought to be off to bed, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. Filch might have caught him!” She said, and everyone nodded.

“Come on, bed time!” Ella began herding everyone off to bed, and I numbly followed.  I wasn’t quite sure what to think after Bill’s no-show, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it now.

Tap, tap

I woke up out of my light sleep with a start. My owl, Goldie, usually only delivered in the mornings. I took a moment to rub my eyes and nearly tumbled out of bed as I saw that it wasn't in fact my owl, but rather a certain Bill Weasley. Throwing open the window, I tried to keep my voice down so I wouldn't wake anyone else.

"Bill? Why and how are you hovering outside my dorm window?" I asked, sleep thick in my voice.

"I'm here for your tour, pretty girl.” I blushed as he called me pretty, knowing I was anything but with my messy hair and bright pink pajamas. "You might want a jacket though," he frowned, gesturing to the frigid, snowy air.

I quickly pulled on my favorite denim jacket, and some leggings. Then, I went back to the window.

"A broom?" I took in the sight of his fairly muscular form on the broom, and noticed a golden, knowing sparkle in his eyes. As if whatever happened, he was one step ahead of me.

"You seem like the type to play quidditch," he shrugged. I grinned, rejoicing at the chance to get back on a broom after all this time.

"You were right," I slid out of the window into the slightly snow covered roof. Wrapping my arms around Bill's waist I let his warmth bleed into my freezing skin. Somehow this felt so right.

"You're warm," I mumbled. I only realised after I spoke how awkward this sounded, but Bill simply smiled and cast a warming charm over me.

"Bet you didn't have much use for those in Australia?" If only he knew how windy my city had been. Although he was right, I never learned a proper warming charm at school.

“Not so much. We spent hours on cooling charms though.” Just like that, I replaced Bill’s warming charm with a cooling one, and he yelped in surprise.

“Y/n!” He shouted into the night’s air, and I laughed as I clutched his waist tighter. It was gone as soon as I cast it, and Bill’s warming charm once again encased us.

“So I’ve been thinking, Y/n. Why’d you come to Hogwarts at the end of January? School term starts in September, you know?” He asked, and I peered down to see that we were circling the quidditch pitch.

“Well my old school, Koolangka, has school from the end of January to mid-December, and every ten weeks we got to go home for two. Every Australian school’s like that, probably because we’re superior.” I said, and Bill turned his head over his shoulder to grin before facing the front of the broom again.

“Say, did you have the sorting hat in Australia?” He asked, and I shook my head before realising he couldn’t quite see me.

“Not exactly. Australia still has the four houses, but instead they’re focussed on air, fire, water and earth. Caeli is Latin for air, ignis for fire, aqua for water, and terra for earth. We have a boomerang that assists in sorting us, and we just have to throw it as fair as we can. Whatever colour it returns covered in is our house.” I explained, and it wasn’t until I finished that I realised how boring it sounded.

“That sounds awesome! I’ve always wanted to go to Australia, but my mum is obsessed with Egypt, so I doubt I’ll get to go.” Bill sounded a bit sad, so I took a leap of faith.

“It’s awesome, Bill! I can show you all the secret spots, and we can visit Numisma, the Australian wizard school.” I said nervously, but I shouldn’t have worried.

“I’d really like that. I might land here on the pitch.” Bill soared down, and I laughed excitedly as we reached the grass.

My feet crunched into the frosty ground, and I spread my arms out as I breathed in the chilly air.

"Imagine playing here," I closed my eyes and pictured the stadium seats full of young witches and wizards, and the sky filled with brooms. Bill saw me and added in background  cheering. I laughed and turned towards him. He grinned, seeing my smile.

"Is this used for anything other than quidditch?" I asked, thinking that this huge space couldn't possibly be used only for quidditch.

"The only other thing held here is the 7th year ball," Bill explained. Instantly my vision of the stadium filled with quidditch fans shifted to a beautifully lit dance floor, filled with laughter and lovely dress robes.

"A ball!" I exclaimed enthusiastically. "Is it very formal?" I felt concerned, realizing I had no idea how to waltz, or swing, or foxtrot or anything...

"No, no. It's not really anything to worry about." He saw my distress, but then his face lit up. "Although I could teach you a few moves," He offered as he extended his hand. I placed my hand gently in his, and let him pull me towards him.

Lumos Maxima Bill whispered, and then whispered another soft spell to play a quiet waltz throughout the stadium.

Slowly and gracefully I let Bill lead me through the steps. Gradually we sped up, and I stopped stepping on his feet so much. His light charm faded, and soon our faces were only illuminated by the stars as we spun and stepped across the cool grass.

Eventually the music came to an end, but I stayed in my dancing position still.

"You're very beautiful," He blushed, glancing away and sticking his hands into his jean pockets. I smiled, although I'm sure I blushed slightly as well. "I er- I just mean..." he stammered a bit.

"The Bill Weasley? Nervous about talking to me?" I teased, and he blushed even redder.

"Well, you see it is Valentine's day," he smiled slightly, and I blushed a little. "And I just thought you might, maybe-" He took a deep breath and collected himself. "Perhaps you would want to go to Hogsmeade with me?" I beamed at him. Despite only knowing Bill for a day or two, I could tell that he was the kind of guy I wanted to know better.

"Of course!" I smiled, and hugged him. His arms wrapped around me, and I breathed in the slightly salty sea air smell about him. "Just one question," I looked up, and he gazed with concern towards me.

"Where's Hogsmeade?" We laughed, and he closed the slight gap to kiss me lightly.

He tasted like the dancing love of liquid luck.