#that there is something taking your place and no one will every realize that you aren’t there anymore

[classyrbf]

dad bod!toji who’s still the big, muscular man he is but you can tell he’s gotten older and his metabolism has slowed down a little bit. He’s gotten chubbier in his arms, thighs, tummy. Not to mention, he’s started to gray and grow stubble on his face, the perfect salt and pepper mix. Toji says he hates it, always moaning and groaning about needing to hit the gym but you…? You fucking love it. It takes everything in you not to ravish his right then and there, wanting to pounce on him every second of the day. You’re always kissing up on him, grabbing on him, dragging him to the laundry room while the kids watching tv so you could have a quickie. And he’s so confused on where all this extra energy and affection has sprouted from, but he loves it. You’re always so eager for him, fucking your self on his cock, him waking up to you kissing his neck and stroking his dick, dropping to your knees and giving him head without his asking. He wonders what he’s done to deserve all of it.

He’s standing in the mirror one late night with his shirt off, examining just how chubby he’s gotten. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little insecure, thinking how gorgeous you are and how you shouldn’t settle for him. “I’m losing myself,” he grumbles. “What’s going on, baby?” You walk in the room, a smile immediately on your face when you see his shirt is off, definitely a sight to see. “I need to head to the gym is what’s going on.” He flexes his muscles in the mirror. You giggle and walk up behind him, snaking your arms around his waist. “I think you look so handsome with a little weight on you,” you whisper in his ear. “Does something to me.” You nibble on his ear before trailing kisses along his jaw, and that’s when Toji realizes why you’ve been so affectionate with him, like a lightbulb going off in his head.

Just mere minutes later, you’re riding him like your life depends on it, slamming your hips down on his, creating a sticky mess between you two. “S-shit,” he pants, “slow down, mama—fuck!” His bruising grips on your hips only tighten the faster you ride him. Your pussy sucks him in with each thrust, clenching around his throbbing cock. “I can’t…you get so me so hot and bothered, baby.” You grin, running your hands down his chest.

He swears he could cum right then and there, with the way you were riding him and that look in your eye, he was ready to give you another kid. And now you were kissing his neck, moaning and whimpering in his ear. “You’re so perfect, Toji,” you mewl. “Fuck me.” His eyes roll back before fluttering shut. “Keep going, yes, yes, just like that, mama. You’re gonna make me fucking cum,” he groans. You keep that same rhythm, squeezing your pussy around him, milking him. He suddenly wraps his arms around you, holding you in place as he thrusts up into you, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. “Ah, fuck!” You cry out, your cum dripping down his shaft. His thrusts grow sloppier and harder and next thing you know he’s filling you up, pushing his cum deeper inside of you with slow thrusts. Laughter erupts from your chest as you catch your breath, kissing him slowly and passionately.

“Mmm, goddamn,” he huffs, pulling you to his chest. “Now I finally know why you’re so goddamn horny all the time,” he chuckles. You blink up at him with a small smirk. “Can you blame me?” You trace patterns on his skin. He can see the look in your eye, that hungry stare you’re giving him, wanting more. “What are you thinking about, hm?” He caresses your cheek. “Oh nothing…just how badly I wanna give you some head right now, but I’ll wait.”

[bigjisback]

RULES FOR CUNTS

I recently made a helpful translator for men to understand their cunts. This is a guide for cunts to know how to behave.

These are simple rules, read and memorize to be better.

1. Your asshole is the hole men want. It is natural for your ass to take cocks, sometimes more than one. Does it hurt? That's your problem, not his.
Shut up and take it. Do you want lube?
No. You never want lube.

2. Your mouth is your second best hole.
Cock goes in your mouth. Words should not come out, unless asked to speak. Train your throat so you can take cocks deeper. Finger your throat or use a dildo regularly until you have no gag reflex. Make your throat as inviting as your cunt or your Asshole.

3. , your mouth is for swallowing. If a man puts something in your mouth, you swallow it. Whether it's cum, spit, piss, some combination of them, you swallow every drop and thank him.
Sometimes these fluids will come from another girl's mouth or asshole. This does not change the rules.

4. Your cunt is not for fucking. Your cunt may be fucked once in a while, if your mouth and ass are already full, but realize that the man is doing it reluctantly. Just in case a man has to use it, shave or wax your cunt to make it pretty. Your cunt is mainly for slapping and whipping to cause you pain or humiliate you.

5. You are bisexual if a man wants you to be. You will play with other cunts on demand. If you are asked to eat a girl's asshole, you eat it like it's your dinner.

6. Don't be afraid to be messy. You are more attractive when covered in bodily fluids. Wear lots of makeup and intentionally smear it with cockslime The messier you get, the more pleasing it is to look at you…

7. The more cocks you please, the more useful you are. Ask your man to invite his friends and make you the

entertainment. Let them destroy your holes and cover you in cum and spit and maybe even piss if you're lucky.

Lick the mess up off the floor to show how grateful you are. And don't clean up right away until they all take pictures to remember the fun.

8. Never say no to something a man wants to do. It is not your place to refuse sexual acts just because you don't want to do them. If something seems too dirty, degrading, or painful, you're wrong. Do it and smile.

If any cunts on here have questions, I'm always avallable to help.

[gilbertscurls]

Hurt Again ➵ Matt Sturniolo

summary: matt gets hurt. again.

You rushed through the door, your heart pounding in your chest. Chris had called you, sounding panicked, but it was Matt’s name he’d dropped���Matt was hurt, again.

You found Matt in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, clutching his side with a blood-stained towel. His jaw was clenched, eyes narrowed in discomfort, and even though he tried to act tough, you could see the pain etched on his face.

“Matt!” You dropped your bag and rushed to his side, panic clear in your voice. “You’re hurt? Why are you always hurt?”

Matt, trying to keep his usual cool exterior intact, looked up with a half-smirk. “It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? You’re bleeding!” You grabbed the towel from him to check the wound, and sure enough, there was a nasty gash running along his ribcage. He winced but said nothing.

“What happened?” you demanded, voice tight with worry as you grabbed the first aid kit from the cabinet. “And don’t even try to tell me it was nothing.”

Matt sighed, leaning against the counter. “I was trying to fix the shelf in my room. It’s been loose for a while. Didn’t realize it was that loose, though. Came down with half my tools.”

You shook your head, your hands moving quickly to clean the wound. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You could’ve called for help, you know.”

“I didn’t think I’d need it,” he muttered, his tone defensive but softened by the pain.

You shot him a look, your eyes narrowing. “Of course you didn’t.”

The room fell into a tense silence as you worked, carefully cleaning the gash and applying pressure. Matt, as usual, was trying to act like it didn’t bother him, but you could see his jaw tighten every time you pressed down on the wound.

After a few moments, you sighed, your voice softer now. “Why is it always you, Matt? Why are you always hurt?”

Matt glanced down, his expression hard to read. He wasn’t great at opening up, even to you, but there was something in the way you asked that made him pause. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just unlucky.”

You looked up at him, frustration and concern warring in your expression. “Or maybe you’re too stubborn for your own good. You don’t always have to do everything by yourself, you know?”

He huffed, trying to shrug it off. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Your voice cracked slightly, the worry you’d been holding back leaking through. “You’re always hurt, Matt. Whether it’s stuff like this or keeping everything bottled up. You don’t let anyone help you.”

Matt met your gaze, and for once, his usual walls seemed to falter. “I’m not trying to be a hero. I just… I don’t want to be a burden.”

Your hands stilled for a moment as you processed his words. You’d known Matt long enough to understand that he wasn’t great at accepting help, but hearing him admit it—hearing the vulnerability in his voice—hit you harder than you expected.

“You’re not a burden,” you said softly, placing a bandage over the wound. “You never have been.”

Matt looked away, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “I don’t know how to… let people in. Not like you do.”

You smiled, despite the situation. “I know. But maybe you could try? You don’t always have to be the tough guy. It’s okay to let people care about you.”

For a moment, Matt didn’t say anything, just stood there as you finished patching him up. When you were done, you stepped back, your eyes searching his face for some sign that he was listening.

Finally, he sighed, his defenses lowering. “I’ll try.”

You smiled, the warmth in your eyes chasing away the tension that had been building. “Good. Because the next time you try to take on the world by yourself and end up hurt, I’m going to kill you.”

Matt chuckled, wincing slightly as he adjusted his stance. “Deal.”

You stood there for a moment, the usual distance between you replaced by a quiet understanding. Matt wasn’t one to show his emotions easily, and you had always known that, but now—now, you felt like maybe you were finally starting to bridge that gap.

“You don’t have to keep getting hurt to prove you’re strong, you know,” you said softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his face.

Matt met your eyes, and for once, there was no smirk, no sarcastic comment. Just a quiet, genuine look that said more than his words ever could.

“I know,” he murmured. “And thanks… for always being there.”

You smiled, your heart swelling a little at his rare display of vulnerability. “Always.”

And maybe, just maybe, Matt would finally start letting you in.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part twenty-five

1043 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one twenty-two twenty-three twenty-four

That morning…

Eddie it really sucks that you’re the only you  other than the fact that two eddies would be amazing on it’s own, i realized that you don’t know how it feels to have your attention it’s so intense dude you’re so intense in the best way, of course i can only hope that i get to experience that feeling more in the future maybe in the present, too p.s. i got your book again yesterday, here’s hoping second time’s the charm -H

Yesterday, Eddie thinks, he should have been more present and paid attention to what H’s note said. He’d sort of gone into tunnel vision when he’d been - however jokingly - accused of not understanding one of his books. It kind of made him wish for the first time that he could talk back. He’d contemplated just walking up to Hagan during lunch, but decided not to. He wouldn’t want to make anyone suspicious of the guy, no matter how much of an asshole he tends to be to everyone else. Eddie just isn’t that kind of person. 

The audacity of a jock who’s admitted to only reading books for school - and for Eddie - to allege that Eddie needs to read a book more than once in order to understand it. 

Has he read all of his favorite books more than once? Yes, but that’s only because they’re his favorites!

And does he notice something new nearly every reread? Also yes, but he chooses to believe that’s what Tolkien intended. It’s like a scavenger hunt of foreshadowing and little things to get excited about even when you know the ending. 

Anyway, Eddie is decidedly less preoccupied today and he’s been wondering what book H is reading.

His curiosity leads him to venture into the school’s library before he heads to the lunchroom. 

He tries to recall which books he’d checked out the last couple of months. Once he’s compiled his mental list, he tracks them down one by one. Eddie checks the card that’s in a pocket inside the front cover of each book on the off chance that Hagan’s name is logged on any of them - it’s not. 

Eddie does find it interesting, though, to see a pattern in a few of the names he does see. Those that pop up multiple times are mostly people he recognizes from Hellfire.

He slowly eliminates each book until he’s left with one that’s not on the shelf. The Return of The King. The last book in the The Lord of the Rings series. 

Most staff - like the students - at Hawkins High aren’t very happy when they see Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson approaching them. The school librarian isn’t one of them, though. Eddie’s been traipsing through this library for the better part of four years. 

Before he’d procured his prickly personality and style as a defense mechanism to the hostile environment of high school in rural Indiana, Eddie found shelter among the creaky furniture, shelves lined with books, and Ms. Hewitt.

She’s seen his sorry face more times than you can count and has always greeted him with a smile. Today is no different. 

He asks her about The Return of the King.

“Someone beat ya’ to it. Nice young man, he was.”

And while Eddie wouldn’t necessarily refer to Tommy Hagan as nice, he would for H. 

Eddie thanks and bids her farewell and then he’s off to lunch. 

He’s still having trouble conflating Hagan and his better half as the same person. 

So, H read the last book of an already complicated series without any backstory. No wonder he was so fucking confused. Eddie laughs to himself just imagining it. Against his better judgment, he’s hopelessly endeared. 

He’s late to lunch, but it’s not as if he was planning on paying for what the school thinks passes for food, anyway. 

When he takes his seat at the head of the table, Jeff places an apple from his homemade meal in front of him without even looking his way or pausing his debate with Gareth (the freshman who’d flipped Eddie’s world upside down by unknowingly revealing H’s identity as the one and only Tommy fucking Hagan).

Eddie absentmindedly munches on the fruit as he takes up his usual lunchtime hobby of gazing at a certain jock’s table. He finds it sort of odd when Harrington - Steve - forces Hagan to play musical chairs or some shit, but Eddie’s not intrigued enough to care, really. He does catch sight of Hagan’s red face and clenched jaw, though. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think the guy was pissed. 

The change of seats provides Eddie with something more worthwhile to look at, so he’s not complaining. Steve seems in high spirits, and Eddie feels his own mood brighten in return.

When their shared elective comes along, Eddie finds himself jittery as he awaits the boy’s arrival. It makes him feel sort of silly, but not enough to lessen the excitement when Steve finally arrives.

The jock takes his seat between Eddie and Carol and turns to greet the latter.

“Carol, Robin.”

“Steve,” the girls say simultaneously without looking in his direction at all. Eddie doesn’t pretend to know what’s going on there, and he honestly doesn’t want to.

Steve then turns to his left to face Eddie, and the last thing he needs is to be limited to the same dry conversation - if you could even call it that - so he cuts him off once he starts.

“Ed-”

“Steven Harold Harrington III. How now?” Eddie has never been the best at English accents, but he figures it gets the point across just fine.

Steve’s face splits into a grin before he forces his expression into a stoic one. He continues to adopt the most heinous English accent Eddie has ever heard - including his own. “That’s His Majesty Steven Harold Harrington III to you, Edwin,” he says snottily.

Eddie can’t help but break into his own grin. Never mind the fact that Eddie’s name isn’t fucking Edwin, but Edward. Few people embrace his antics, let alone engage in them. 

Eddie is so gone on this boy. He was kidding himself thinking he could stay away. 

Steve Harrington might just be the end of him.

tag list (closed)

@sofadofax @noodle-shenaniganery @queenie-ofthe-void @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @devondespresso

@dreamingtheimpossibe @plutoshelm @jaywhohasthegay @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie

@dreamy-jeans137 @justdrugsformethanks @estrellami-1 @travelingtwentysomething @sleepy-steve

@wheneverfeasible @bisexual-and-broke @lil-gremlin-things @n0-1-important @xxbottlecapx

@tinyplanet95 @dannys-guilt-ridden-cockroach @theohohmoment @corvus-perplexus @hippieg1rl420

@blurryjoji @bookbinderbitch @arthurianace @dragonmama76 @thesuninyaface

@tillystealeaves @p0lybl4nkk @sageclipse @mugloversonly @chameleonhair

@thedragonsaunt @yesdangerpls @sanctumdemunson @slv-333 @loguine-linguine

@resident-gay-bitch @anaibis @moomkin77 @thrashbatx @salchica

@flustratedcas @ajeff855 @nerdyglassescheeseychick @pearynice @imaginary-maggie-waggie

[monstersflashlight]

Set up by a baby-orc (Orc’s POV)

A/N: Hi there lovelies, I thought it would be really cute to see what he was thinking in this scene, so here we have it. (Part 1 here)

Orc!reader (POV) x fem!human || sfw, meet-cute, soulmates

When your big sister asked you to pick up her kid, you were more than happy to do so. You were the cool uncle and you had to maintain that status or your brother Inar would take that place, and you loved that big stupid dude, but you weren’t against dirty play to be the cool uncle. Like showing up to the daycare and taking him to get ice cream. Even if your sister would hate you later for it.

You could sense your nephew inside, the line joining you wasn’t as strong as the one linking you with your brothers and sisters, but it was enough to feel his happiness and alert him you were already there.

Your special hearing could pick up his fast steps as you heard a sweet voice asked: "Who?" He appeared through the door with a human woman and your breath got caught in your throat. She was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen, her wide hips and voluptuous figure making your dick twitch in the most uncomfortable moment.

"My uncle!" Your favorite baby orc exclaimed, pointing across the patio directly at you.

If you thought she was beautiful before it was nothing like what you felt when she looked up and your eyes met. She looked amazed at you as she gaped in the tiniest way, making you gape back at her. And then it clicked, she was her. Your mate. The one you’ve been waiting forever to meet. She was your fucking mate and you were gaping at her like a stupid orc.

She walked to you moving her hips, your nephew next to her talking excitedly about something you didn’t comprehend. When she was standing right in front of you, you took a deep breath, her scent hitting you like a tidal wave. She smelled perfect, like the forest in the spring and your favorite food at the same time. She smelled so perfect you couldn’t stop breathing in and out almost driving yourself to hyperventilation.

She looked down at your nephew, and you snapped out of your stupor.

“I told you she was human! Look! Look! Her skin is not green!” Your nephew sounded so excited you smiled down at him, his words making you blush as she giggled. Your heart skipped a beat, her laugh was the most amazing sound you’d ever heard.

“I can see that,” you said in a choked voice, almost too low. She squirmed in the tiniest way, but you were hyper-aware of every breath she took, every tiny movement of her delicious body. Your eyes were fixated on her as your brain filled with adoration and desperation. It was so intense it took your breath away.

Your nephew couldn’t catch the tension in the air as he kept talking. “Isn’t she pretty? She doesn’t have tusks like me!” He said it like it was such a weird thing that you had to bite down on your lip not to laugh. He was so freaking cute.

“Yours will grow eventually, though,” you explained, kneeling on the floor in front of him, you still towered over him but his little green face was closer to him when you said it. You looked at her and realized you were still a bit taller than her, even on your knees, and you couldn’t avoid realizing how hard it would be to fit inside of her… But somewhat you knew she would take you better than any other creature on earth.

“They will?!” Your nephew sounded so shocked by that information that you cursed internally because he should know that. Baby orcs should have that kind of information, fuck.

“Yes, hon, yours will grow until they are as big as your uncle’s,” she explained, touching his head affectionately and making your insides go all gooey with appreciation.

She shivered almost imperceptibly, but you saw. You couldn’t avoid staring at her frame in front of you, your insides turning and moving, asking you to get closer, to touch her, to claim her. But you couldn’t. She was humans and humans didn’t have the mating instincts orcs had. You would have to woo her first, explain everything and made sure she understood what it meant completely.

She looked around uncomfortably and you regretted being such a creep that couldn’t stop staring at her. “I should go back to the kids,” she let out, looking at you and rapidly to the ground.

“Yeah. Yes. I guess so.” He said as she walked a few steps backwards. But you couldn’t let her go just like that, so your impulsive side won and you said: “I’ll be seeing you again… that’s a promise,” you knew you did good when you saw a big smile breaking in her gorgeous face. She didn’t turn back, but you didn’t care, her smile would keep you content for days.

You stared at her until she was at the door of the school, and when she turned around and her eyes caught you, your smile was so big she blushed and ran inside, making you chuckle as you took your nephew to the car, already planning how to woo her completely.

You’d see her soon enough.

[nab1wuzhere]

Magnetic

“You wouldn’t look at me.”

“I saw plenty.”

“In my eyes.”

“…Does it matter?”

~

summary:

Bakugo Katsuki, No. 3 Hero in the charts, massive amounts of fan girls, always invited to galas, events, and even award shows along side his peers, but he has never once gotten a dating scandal in his whole career. Has never even looked in a woman’s direction. So you can be certain he won’t change his actions when artist Y/N is invited to sing at a private Christmas Gala hosted for hero’s to celebrate the season and a year well done of duties…right?

Singer, artist, model Y/N, has it all. Looks, wealth, awards, friends, family, and boyfriends.. her music revolves around her relationships and past relationships along with her mental health that she speaks about through her music. She gets asked to gigs almost every day but few are lucky to book her, when her team gets a request for the Christmas Hero Gala which is highly exclusive, she immediately agrees to entertaining the hero’s, excited for the night she doesn’t realize she caught a certain man’s attention in the back of the crowd..

• slow burn - secret pining - romance - bold Y/N, shy Katsuki - vice versa - celebrity!y/n x aged up!katsuki

• following contains, eventual smut, mentions of suicide, alcohol, mental illness, heavy party scenes and probably more !

• 18+ only!! this is your warning

• the rest of the celebrities mentioned in this series i do not take credit for, and the songs mentioned all writing ownership belongs to them! i do not take credit except for this fan fiction!

!! just a friendly reminder this is all fake, simply my imagination placed into writing !!

intro chapter one

furious knocking is heard on bakugo katsuki’s hotel door, with shouts of “katsuki!! katsuki!!” being heard on the other side of the door.

katsuki groaned furiously as he got up and headed for the door, opening it loudly

“what the hell?!”

katsuki opened it to see his best friend, eijiro kirishima standing before him with a star eyed look on him. katsuki sighed and opened the door wider for his red headed friend to walk in.

“this better be good shitty hair, i was about to eat my fuckin’ breakfast.” katsuki spoke with a grumble

“katsuki! you’ll never believe it, guess who’s the performer for the gala?!” eijiro said practically shouting the walls away, his hands in tight fists, barely holding himself together.

a massive sigh was heard from katsuki, “will you PLEASE, for the love of god stop the fuckin’ shoutin’?!” he practically raised his hands in the air with annoyance

eijiro nodded happily, no sign of embarrassment or fear covered his body, his hands just moved in a “guess” motion

katsuki gave him a blank stare before running a hand through his spiky blonde hair. “who is preform—” before he could finish his sentence eijiro already announced the performer,

“Y/N! THE Y/N! like global sensation Y/N?! SHE of all people will be preforming FOR US katsuki!!! can you believe it?! oh my god!!”

katsuki gave him a look of “who the fuck are you talking about” before realization dawned on him, on his face, “oh, the chick who sings ‘NDA’?”

eijiro nodded excitedly, “and therefore i am, your power, when the party’s over-”

“oh yeah, i like when the party’s over”

“male fantasy, i love you- OH my gosh what if she sings i love you? oh ill sob. oh not to mention, illicit affairs, my tears ricochet—”

“eijiro.” katsuki spoke in a harsh tone “we get it, she sings a lot of songs you know.”

eijiro walked towards him and sat down, “see that’s just the thing katsuki, she doesn’t just sing. she’s- hah! she’s an idol, she- she literally defines music, she’s a poet and composer and creates masterpieces using something that comes naturally to her- she- she creates art out of instruments and makes millions out of it-” eijiro reaches for the tv remote. “i mean look she even-”

“oh i’d rather you not go down this rabbit hole of obsession”

“yeah well i’m going to so shut up and eat your pancakes”

katsuki stared down at his plate of buttermilk pancakes and looked offended as eijiro flipped to ‘youtube’ on the hotels tv, seconds later there’s a video playing of Y/N preforming at coachella a year ago, singing her song, ‘idontwannabeyouanymore’ her voice soft and smooth as she sang the words with ease.

“i mean you see how natural it is for her? there are so and i mean so so many singers out there but jesus.. there’s only one of her.” he pointed to the screen and katsuki’s eyes followed to it, the camera panning on her face, her eyes shut, lashes brushing her under eye, her lips close to the microphone, there had to be a fan right above her, her hair flowing around, but yet somehow it didn’t look messy.. like it did but it was a good messy, her eyes opened and a glint of happiness shined in them, her lips curved up into a smile as she harmonized the end, and the whole crowd screamed and emerged into clapping, she looked down at her feet, the air blowing her hair, she looked up and her eyes shined from the blue spotlight creating a glow over her. she mouthed “thank you” before shouting, “THANK YOU COACHELLA!!! I LOVE YOU ALL SO SO MUCH” and the video ended.

“i mean come on!! she’s a fucking legend and in her fucking prime right now, and to even think she’s gonna perform for US?! oh god man i could pass away” ejiro says as he fake swoons and falls onto the hotel couch, his hand on his forehead.

katsuki scoffs as he takes a bite of his pancakes, “yeah, i mean she is good, she’s got a voice that’s for sure-”

ejiro interrupts katsuki immediately, “it’s not just the voice man!! it’s her, she’s from a whole other world! and she’s like the nicest person you’ll ever meet-”

“and have you? have you met her?” katsuki gives him a sarcastic look, ejiro presses his lips met with silence, katsuki sighs as sets his fork down and crosses his arms, “don’t believe everything you see on the internet ejiro.” he said with a serious tone, “not everyone is who they seem to be, i can sniff out who’s a fucking fake from a mile away, i would know” he gives an annoyed look.

ejiro sighs as he gets up and pops a blueberry in his mouth that had been sitting on katsuki’s breakfast plate, “yeah well we will have to wait to meet her so you can “sniff her out” yourself..” ejiro scoffs, “trust me katsuki, she’s the real deal.” he ended with pointing at the tv who had Y/N smiling out into the crowd at coachella, her eyes like glitter.

ejiro said his goodbyes and walked out leaving katsuki by himself and just him staring at the tv screen, his arms still crossed, he mentally slapped himself before pressing the video that would come up next, another performance at coachella from the same year, her hit song, “when the party’s over”. now this one katsuki was familiar with, it was one he found himself listening to a lot in his car, the lyrics were raw he would give her that, and her voice- god if katsuki knew it was something sent out of a dream to become katsuki’s worst nightmare he would have never clicked play.

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (10/10)

The Realization

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: prom is coming and so is the end of a stage in your life. surprises and unexpected conversations take place, the question is, are you able to forgive in order to move on?

word count: 9.7k

previous part • series masterlist

this is not a drill, it's really happening!

first of all, i want to apologize for having left this story aside without finishing it. it wasn't something i decided, the writer's block precisely in this fic made me not try anymore for a while, mostly to clear my mind and my ideas, because i had no idea what to write after chapter nine 💀

so I hope you really forgive me and enjoy the last chapter 🥺 it has been an honor to have given you this little fic, I really enjoyed writing it despite the little mental breakdowns I had haha

and just like my other stories, I keep it in my heart and it will always be here for whenever you want to reread (I will make sure to post it in AO3, don't worry) i'm also thinking of doing a poll about the epilogue where you guys will decide if you want one or prefer this ending. let me know after you finish reading the chapter 🤗

enjoy and I look forward to your comments!

It still all feels like a bad dream that you can't wake up from. An unwanted dream. A nightmare.

And every time a new day comes, you feel like a human being who does everything in automatic mode, not because you really want to.

In front of your dad you must pretend that everything is fine, but as soon as you leave home and get to school, you feel a huge weight and a sadness that nothing and no one can take away from you.

You feel the stares of some people on you, if not all of them. But the truth is that you feel so emotionally drained that you don't even pay attention to them.

Many would say that not being accepted to a college doesn't mean it's the end of the world. Nor does it mean that your chances are over because there is still too much time to be able to do everything you want.

And you accept that they are right. All is not lost because you didn't get accepted.

When you were rejected the first time when you applied in conjunction with the scholarship, disillusionment sets in. There is disappointment in yourself for not being enough and there is this question that constantly floats in your mind; why others do and I don't? Why am I not worthy of the same fate as them?

Maybe it's age, but it's inevitable to feel that rejection and failure after having so many plans and having in mind the idea of making your dad proud by telling him that you've been accepted to college.

And not just any college, but Citadel.

But so far, you haven't had the courage to tell him instead that you won't go to any college. You just can't. You don't know what exactly you'll tell him and you don't want to face it yet. You don't want to see his disappointed face so you need more time.

So instead of dreams and aspirations, as well as preparing to live a college life, you prepare and focus on getting a job. You don't see employment as a bad thing either. You just wish you didn't have to focus on it right now.

You haven't talked to Aemond either. You haven't even seen him.

You're in some classes together. But you barely pay attention. Even though you used to notice his presence before and now, unconsciously, you ignore it. Now your mind is too busy with your worries.

It's like being in a disconnect. You are just there, existing. But you barely talk, barely react and barely do. You just want classes to end soon so you can go home.

Of course, he hasn't stopped trying.

He wants to talk to you, but you won't let him. You just don't want to have anything to do with him anymore. Even though you feel that emptiness he has left, you immediately force yourself not to think about it.

It's like pain and confusion mixed together, but your pride and that same pain makes you prefer to stay away.

You don't even care anymore what people say about him and you. It's obvious that the two of you are no longer in a 'relationship'. No one knows what happened and neither one of you is clarifying anything.

Which you are grateful for, so as not to feed the topic in the whole school.

Meanwhile, Alysanne and Cregan are almost always around you, trying to cheer you up and make you endure school better. You couldn't be more grateful for both of them either.

"So what are your plans for the weekend?"

Alysanne asks as the three of you are sitting on a bench in the outside courtyard. On the bench where you and Aemond made the fake relationship contract, precisely. But you try not to focus on that as the three of you eat lunch.

"We're going to the movies, did you forget already?" asks Cregan, confused.

"Huh? This weekend?"

"You forgot," he assures her.

"I didn't forget!" she lies, nervous.

"We agreed to go on Saturday. To the ten o'clock function for the horror movie."

Oh yes, the two of them are dating. Just as you and Aemond have 'broken up', so you try not to feel more distressed about it.

"Do you want to come, Y/N?"

You raise your gaze to Alysanne, confused, who gives you a smile.

"It's a date, isn't it? Just the two of you."

"We'll have more dates," she makes a nonchalant gesture.

Poor Cregan.

"Besides, it would do you good to clear your head a bit. So, what better than going to the movies? Right, Cregan?"

"Yeah, it'll do you good," he nods.

"No, thank you," you say softly, "I don't want to interfere with your dates. Besides, I'm not in the mood to go out. I'd rather stay home."

"You're not going to interfere with anything. Besides, you've stayed home enough days," she reproaches you, "Come on. Even one night. We'll have a great time."

"If you don't want to go to the movies, we can go somewhere else," Cregan proposes.

You grimace slightly.

"No, thank you. I..." you sigh, "I really appreciate it, guys. But I'd rather stay home."

Staying home to look for a proper job and plan to tell your dad you won't be going to college, like you've been doing for the past few days.

"Are you sure?" Alysanne looks at you not entirely convinced.

"Yeah," you shrug, "Don't worry about me."

"Of course I worry about you."

"You should focus on your date," you say as you give Cregan a meaningful look.

"Totally," Cregan nods, "In fact, she'll plan the next date."

"What?" she looks at him in horror.

"What you heard."

"And why me?"

"Because I always do."

Your talk with them doesn't last long as soon the bell rings and they head off to their respective classes, except for you, who has a free hour.

So you stand on the bench alone, just looking outside and nothing else, enjoying your lunch unhurriedly and in peace and quiet.

You let out a long breath and distract yourself for a few moments in your social networks, watching as some people post their reactions from when they were accepted to colleges. Everyone screams, smiles and cries of happiness with their families.

Except for others who quietly show how they were not accepted. But they open more emails and get accepted to other colleges.

You wish you were part of them.

You close those apps and go to Tiktok to distract yourself for a while by watching funny videos or storytimes.

When suddenly, you hear footsteps approaching behind you, which catches your attention. You turn your head, peeking over your shoulder and then you see him, Aemond.

He stops as soon as your eyes look directly into his, as if you've caught him in the act of robbery. Which reveals how very cautious he was being to approach and not scare you.

You see the uncertainty in his gaze, the insecurity and the wariness all at the same time. Which is rare for him, as he doesn't allow himself to look so vulnerable. But you understand why he's this way with you.

First you think about getting up and leaving him with the word in his mouth, like you've been doing lately. But for some reason, it's like finally your mind resigns and your body will force you to stay where you're sitting. And you don't even know why.

Or maybe it's because he's begging you with his gaze not to leave and listen to what he has to say after so many weeks.

Inevitably your nerves invade you and neither he nor you say anything for a few long seconds. He just stands still, as if testing the waters, waiting to see if you will move away from him again attentively.

Then he swallows hard and watches you with a sad but hopeful expression.

“Can I come closer?”

You press your lips together, think about it for a few seconds and finally give him a barely visible nod.

You turn your gaze to the front and begin to put your tupper with food in your backpack. While at the same time Aemond approaches you, cautious but firm. And surprised that you are allowing him to do this.

You let out a long breath and bring a hand to your hair, nervous, not knowing why.

Then he steps in front of you and only at that moment, you realize he has a folder in his hand. A folder that he sets down on the table in front of you, with smooth, cautious movements.

“I just came to drop this off for you. Nothing else.”

You raise your gaze to look at it confused for a moment, then look back down at the folder in front of you.

“It's the paperwork you need to submit to finalize the scholarship process,” he says softly, “Classes start in two months and by now you should have received an email from the university with all the information as an incoming student.”

Wait, what?

Your mind immediately questions, as you frown more and feel your heart start to beat too fast.

“What are you talking about?” you ask in a low murmur, not understanding.

And Aemond lets out a long breath.

“I'm keeping my promise.”

His words echo steadily in your mind.

And you dare to raise your gaze to him again, confused, serious and incredulous. And what he does is lower his gaze, sorrowful and unsure. However… he is firm with what he is saying.

Then a tingle begins to run through your hands, at the same time as you feel the nervousness sweep through your body like a wave. You part your lips as you look at the folder in front of you and with trembling hands, you pick it up and open it.

The first thing you see is the university logo and an overwhelming sensation sweeps over your body and mind as you see what appears to be a letter addressed to you.

Miss. Y/N Y/L/N, Faculty of Law. Official documentation for the scholarship process.

You feel the air you were holding in your lungs slowly leave your mouth. And a huge weight that you felt in your chest is lifted, allowing you to rest and breathe properly.

At first, you think your mind is playing a joke on you. You think he's doing it. But… this is real. More real than you can imagine.

“I know I didn't do things the right way…

Aemond begins to speak, noticing the mix of shock and confusion in your gaze, breathing hard through your mouth.

“I know I took you for granted and that I hurt you,” he says softly, “But that was never my intention, Y/N. I-I… I thought I would get everything under control. That I would work it out and get everything done on time. But, it's just… I don't even have justification.”

You feel tears begin to form in your eyes. But you control yourself. You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to let his words make you break down in tears.

As if the fact that you have in front of you one of the papers confirming and assuring you that you will finally go to the college of your dreams isn't enough.

“I should have acted sooner and looked for solutions. I should have been honest with you from the beginning. And you don't know how sorry I am,” he says softly and vulnerably, his gaze lowered, ”I also don't expect you to forgive me for keeping a promise and asking for forgiveness. I know I fucked up and things can never go back to the way they were. But I just want you to know…” he takes a moment, "That I really did fall in love with you."

Fuck.

“What I felt for you was real. It was never a game or a pretense. I was just… afraid,” he admits, ”Afraid of fucking up what we had. Afraid it would all fall apart if I told you the truth. But… I ruined everything,” he says with a resigned tone, ”You don't have to talk to me again either if you don't want to. You don't owe me anything. I just wanted to tell you the truth and let you know how sorry I am.”

Each word echoes in your mind, with the weight of his regret and his sincerity. You feel the tremble in your body, not helping the fact that you are still staring at the college sheet addressed to your name.

And you hold back, trying to calm the chaos being unleashed inside you by his words.

When he doesn't say anything else, you certainly won't and you both fall silent for a moment, as the weight of his words and the meaning of them fill the space. Until he speaks again.

“I won't bother you anymore,” he moves forward a bit back to the way he came, “Best of luck at Citadel. You deserve it, you really do,” he tells you with a small smile that is sad but genuine at the same time.

Then his figure disappears from your field of vision and you hear him start to walk away. And at that moment, the world seems to stop for you.

Unable to help yourself, you turn your head and watch him walk away with tears in your eyes. There is something in his walk, in that slight slope of his shoulders, that screams the burden he carries. And you don't know why, but… you want to call him, to tell him something that will ease the knot you both feel.

However, you know that won't fix anything.

You feel the air leave you, his words still echoing in your mind. You stare at the folder again, trying to remember what this achievement meant to you before this moment, before he came and stirred all the emotions in you.

You try to be strong, you try not to let this affect you more than it should, you think of the positive. But you can't.

So still in disbelief, excitement, sadness and with all your emotions mixed up, you take your phone, unlock it and open your emails app. And there, your most recent email, you read: Citadel University.

With your hands shaking, you press the email and read in slightly larger letters: Welcome to Citadel University! Miss Y/N, Y/L/N. Faculty of Law, Registration number: 31982.

Then, finally, you can't hold back the tears any longer and you put a hand to your mouth, letting them out, with confused and intense feelings coming over you.

Your father's loving and proud words, hugs and kisses make you smile.

It took you four days to finally break the news to him. And seeing him so happy, excited and proud, made you finally stop feeling so bad for even a moment. You also broke the news to Alysanne and Cregan, who were very happy for you.

Neither of them mentioned Aemond, which you appreciated. But there is the clear acknowledgement to him for making this possible.

You obviously left the job search behind and instead started contacting the university. You sent the missing and necessary documents, they sent you information about the scholarship, your schedule, classes and also about your dorm.

It's like finally this void in your chest is being filled as you finally see this all happening. And as you look at the pictures of the university, with old, elegant and modern architecture at the same time, that excitement rises in you.

However, what you feel is not happiness in its entirety.

In fact, you feel in the middle of a crossroads; joy is mixed with sadness. And the satisfaction of fulfilling the dream feels incomplete.

The worst part is that you know why.

But you don't think about it too much either. You don't want to. On the contrary, you force yourself to repeat over and over again that this was the plan all along. You force yourself to enjoy it and get excited.

You force yourself to think that what happened outside of getting into the college of your dreams was for a reason, but in the end you got what you really wanted.

But, deep down inside, you think about how you wish things could have been different.

At the same time, prom is just around the corner.

At first, you thought about not attending, but of course, Alysanne wouldn't let you think about it anymore. She dragged you with her to the dress store and sentenced that it will be a date of three, her, Cregan and you.

You tried to persuade her, to make her understand that Cregan only wants her as his date. But, of course, Cregan as the great friend he also is, told you it would be fun.

Certainly neither he nor you nor Alysanne have ever been on a three-way date and he told you; what better than to try it at the prom?

The prom preparations are done. Now the important thing is to turn in final projects and get rid of all the pending with the professors.

And that's what you're doing now.

With your headphones on and a notebook along with a book on your table, you're about to finish a long, boring project. When you notice how a figure suddenly obscures your workspace and you raise your gaze almost instantly, curious.

Helaena.

You remove your headphones, surprised to see her as she smiles softly at you.

“Hi,” you say to her in a soft tone, putting your project aside for a moment.

“Hi,” she says to you in the same soft tone, ”I… am I interrupting you?”

“Oh no,” you say nonchalantly, “I mean, yes, but I'm just about to finish it anyway. Don't worry.”

She looks at you a little unsure.

“Are you sure? It's just… I don't know,“ she shrugs, 'It's been a while since we last talked and I didn't know if I could come up to you.”

Again you ignore the small sharp pain in your chest at the memory of Aemond and try to look like you're not at all affected by having his sister in front of you.

“Yeah, well…” you try to smile a little, ”Things have been… intense lately.”

She nods as she takes a seat across from you.

“So it's official?” she asks you with a sad tone as she watches you with a sad little smile, “Like, I mean… you and my brother aren't coming back together?”

This time, the sharp pain in your chest is stronger and more persistent. As well as her question hits you like a wave.

How can you tell her that, in reality, everything you and Aemond had was false? That it was all part of an agreement?

The guilt begins to consume you as you see her face full of expectations and the worst thing is that it's not something you should tell her. That should be Aemond. But, still, you feel the urge to cry and you feel the need to finally tell her the truth, for the sake of everyone who made you believe the fake relationship.

“Helaena…” you begin, your voice barely a whisper, ”I-I… need to be honest with you.”

You take a breath, expecting the worst and imagining a series of difficult emotions to deal with.

“This whole thing between Aemond and I… it was fake,” you speak fearfully and sorrowfully, ”We were just… pretending for our own convenience. It wasn't…” you sigh, closing your eyes for a moment heavily, ”It wasn't real.”

You expected surprise, indignation, incredulity, anger, and more, all at the same time. But to your greatest surprise and bewilderment, she doesn't seem remotely surprised. Instead, she just smiles softly at you, full of understanding, as if she's been waiting for this moment for a long time.

“I already knew that,” she tells you in a serene tone that disarms you.

You feel your lungs hold all your air and you watch her completely stunned, surprised and confused with your parted lips. Then you blink, processing her words.

“What?”

“Aemond told me everything the moment you set up your rules,” she replies calmly, “The truth is, he never hides anything from me. He can't. So I already knew what you both were doing from the beginning.”

You continue to watch her in shock and disbelief, unable to believe it, trying to understand how she could have kept this to herself so naturally.

And in that moment, with disbelief and surprise beating in your chest, you realize that in every single conversation you had with her, right here at school, at parties, even at that family dinner that ended in disaster thanks to Aegon's drunkenness… she had always known.

“Though I don't always approve of his decisions, I understood why he did it… and why you did too.”

But your mind is still short-circuiting, processing and comprehending.

You relive in your mind every moment you went out of your way to pretend, believing you were fooling everyone, especially her. And yet, there's Helaena, looking at you with an expression of calm and empathy that completely disarms you.

“So you knew?” you are able to formulate in asking in a breathy whisper.

She nods, smiling softly.

“Easy, only I knew.“

“And you're not upset?” you ask confused, still waiting for some sign of reproach.

“Not at all. On the contrary, I'm relieved,” she tells you honestly, ”People made fun of Aemond after Alys. And, well, that left a mark on him. You know what rumors are like here.”

“Oh, believe me I do.”

“And they made him miserable. It also didn't help at all that Alys was his first girlfriend and his first formal relationship but the two of them didn't love each other, it was just obsession and whim,” she says absurdly, "And with you, at least, he got some peace back, even if it was temporary."

“But then…” you look at her blankly, “Why did you ask me if we'll get back together?”

Helaena sighs, her gaze soft but intense.

“Because in the end the two of you really fell in love. I saw you at Dragonstone and it was… too obvious.”

You remain silent, remembering those moments.

Both of you walking through those historical corridors, seeing and learning absolutely everything about old Valyria. Both holding hands, fascinated in the aquarium watching everything around or walking together on the shore of the beach, laughing, exchanging glances, hugging and kissing every now and then that everything felt too sincere to be pretending.

You relived every moment and every detail that you wished you could go back to when everything was fine.

Aemond had been different with you those days, a side of him that you had never seen and had thought only existed because of his performance in the fake relationship you had both agreed to.

But even you, being there, without the pressure to pretend, you felt the barriers fall between the two of you, because it was all real.

“He fell in love with you, Y/N,” Helaena tells you sincerely, “You… you did too?”

You feel a lump form in your throat and you let the question float in the air for a moment. The answer is so clear in your mind that it hurts; and yet, saying it out loud feels like breaking a promise you had made to protect yourself.

“Yes, I did too,” you admit, sadness settling in your chest, "But…" you take a deep breath, watching her, ”What happened with Floris even though it was a mistake… and then, the fact that he didn't tell me the truth about Citadel, it really hurt me.”

Helaena nods softly, not judging you, simply listening to you. And when she speaks, her tone is so serene and understanding that it comforts you.

“My brother has this amazing ability to do things in the worst possible way,” she says with a small resigned smile, ”Floris was a mistake. He was drunk and well, he told me that before that both of you have had a disagreement, although that doesn't justify it, I know. I'm just saying, it really was a mistake.”

Your mind momentarily flashes back to that moment, when you tried to end the fake relationship after the family dinner thing.

“And as for the Citadel thing…” she pauses, searching for the right words, “He freaked out, Y/N. He didn't know how to tell you without ruining everything. And I know that doesn't justify it either, but…” she sighs, ”He was going to do whatever it took to hold up his part of the contract. He just didn't count on our grandfather suddenly getting difficult. Our family is already so fucked up as it is, that was the last thing he expected.”

Her words suddenly make you feel interested and curious about a specific topic you hadn't remembered until now. But Helaena continues to speak and you listen to her.

“Even though his method was disastrous, in his mind, he was protecting you,” she says, ”Again, I'm not justifying it. But I know he was desperate to get you that place at Citadel no matter what because he knew you deserved it. And…” she smiles at you with a gesture of resignation, "I think he loves you enough to do stupidly risky things. Even go against grandfather and act behind his back knowing how much trouble he could get into.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and feel a knot of emotions form in your chest. Everything she's telling you opens a door to feelings you'd tried to repress, to thoughts you'd rather bury.

You take a deep breath, remembering again those days at Dragonstone.

You relive every moment, when words were redundant and the silence between the two of you felt so full of meaning. He was always watching you in a way that seemed to say everything and nothing at the same time. He was slowly revealing that vulnerable part of himself that he seemed to have lost after Alys.

But as much as you want to think straight, your thoughts are a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, the pain of it all consumes you but on the other, there's the certainty of how you feel about him.

Even when you're hurting, you know you can't ignore it.

“I know he's still waiting, deep down, for maybe…” Helaena pauses, “Maybe there's a chance for both of you.”

The expression on her face is so sincere and tender that you find it impossible not to believe her, and the thought fills you with a mixture of relief and pain. Because, despite everything, you still love him, and that truth is impossible to deny.

“I don't know,” you confess, biting your lips and feeling your eyes water, ”I-I…I don't know what to do. I mean, we're already graduating. We'll go to the same college but I doubt we'll see each other, you know? And I just… n-no… I don't know….

“Hey, hey,” Helaena tells you instantly, ”It's okay. We don't have to talk about this anymore. I didn't want to overwhelm you or burden you, I just wanted to tell you my opinion and for you to talk to someone in case you needed to,” she tells you softly, comfortingly, ”Still, it's something between the two of you and we can talk about anything else.”

You thank her with a relieved look, her gesture of empathy appearing as she watches you with her soft, understanding expression. And then, she speaks with a more casual tone, changing the subject with a lightness that relieves you a bit.

“You have everything ready for graduation? Are you bringing a date?”

“Hum… yes, I already have everything ready,” you nod, ”And no, I'll go with my two friends. I think you met them, Alysanne and Cregan.”

“Oh yes! I know them,” she says with a smile, ”And I'm going with a friend too. I don't really like the idea of everything being so formal, so going with a friend will make it all more fun.”

Both are silent for a few moments, and although the conversation has taken on a lighter tone, you feel there's still a question trapped in your chest. And at the memory of that day, an impulse prompts you to speak before you can stop yourself.

“Helaena,” you call her softly, "I… can I ask you something?" you ask almost in a whisper, lowering your gaze a little, hesitating.

She watches you curiously and nods without hesitation.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Hum…” you stir in your seat, “That night, at dinner, Aegon said something… about your dad not caring about you. What did he mean by that?”

She immediately looks like she wasn't expecting that question at all, which immediately makes you regret it, but then she softens her whole gaze, not looking at all uncomfortable or upset.

“Oh, well… our dad…” she begins to speak, choosing her words precisely, “Well, he was always very neglectful with us. He always left all the work to mom to take care of us, even when she had to work too so she wasn't totally dependent on him,” she explains, ”It was chaos for a long time. Aegon and I lost years of education because of his lack of commitment.”

“Really?” you look at her attentively and surprised.

“He missed the date to register us for kindergarten in our proper time. He always forgot our birthdays or some important date. But, of course, that never happened to him with our older stepsister, Rhaenyra.”

You remember Aemond mentioning her, though not much.

“And you don't talk to her?”

“Yes, of course,” she says with a small smile, “She was never at blame. In fact, by comparison, she always took us into account and never forgot our existence,” she explains, ”And well, eventually mom divorced him. And the only good thing dad did in the end was to mention us and give us parts of his inheritance in his will.”

Helaena's sincerity and calmness in sharing this about her life surprises you and, at the same time, makes you understand the complicated family history behind them. Now it's no wonder why Aegon was so angry to bring up the subject of parents.

Nor do you ignore the connection you begin to feel towards them, obviously because of your mother and her abandonment.

“It must have been very difficult, for everyone,” you murmur, ”I'm sorry to hear that.”

She nods, though her expression doesn't reflect bitterness, but something akin to mature acceptance.

“Yes, but that made us strong,” she says with a slight smile, "Aegon was the one who resented his absence the most, as you could see," she tells you knowingly, ”You know, being the eldest and all. But we're more… happy now, now that he's gone,” she confesses.

You let out a long breath, watching her with compassion.

“Thank you for telling me. I didn't mean to intrude, really.”

“No, it's fine, it really doesn't affect me,” she assures you softly, ”After that Aegon scene at dinner, it's valid you know. So don't worry.”

You both smile softly at each other, expressions warm and sincere, falling silent. When Helaena stands up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

“Well…” she says, letting out a slight sigh, adjusting her backpack, ”I should be going now. I also have projects to finish.”

“Sure,” you nod, ”Thanks for coming and talking to me.”

“Oh, there's nothing to thank you for. Anytime. I'll see you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

You both say goodbye and you watch her walk away in the direction of the main building, her silver hair shining in the sunlight, as you let out a long breath and put your headphones back in.

Prom.

You really don't understand what you're doing here. But it's all Alysanne's doing, like the makeup, hairstyle and dress.

You get out of Cregan's car with a beautiful lilac metallic dress on. Finding it wasn't hard at all, since it was like love at first sight, especially since it has a princess cut. And upon measuring it, Alysanne also decided that it was the one.

The hairstyle was also easy, after all, you didn't want anything too voluminous or too fancy. So a wavy style in your hair with a crown of silver flowers at the crown of your head was the perfect touch.

Alysanne on the other hand chose a beautiful wine colored dress that flatters her at every angle, deciding to gather her hair with two strands falling on either side of her face, making her look absolutely elegant and gorgeous.

And once all three of you are ready, Cregan dressed in an impeccable dark suit, offers you both his arms and you enter the grand ballroom of the luxurious hotel together.

The ballroom is illuminated by the typical disco balls hanging from the high ceiling, casting silver and white sparkles that create an almost magical atmosphere.

The decor is elegant and subtle, with centerpieces of fresh flowers and candles giving each table a touch of romantic charm.

You feel a mixture of nerves and excitement as you enter, as if it's all part of a dream. After all, it is your prom and tonight symbolizes a chapter you are about to close, your high school years.

The dance floor is in the center, surrounded by tables in a circle and already some of the guests have started to dance, getting lost in the rhythm of the soft music that fills the atmosphere thanks to the DJ.

Although not only disco balls light up the place, but also some colored lights to make the atmosphere more colorful.

If someone had told you in your freshman year everything that was going to happen in your final year, you would have laughed out loud and wouldn't have believed it at all, because your life was too boring.

But here you are, with still those events in mind, where at the end of the night, you will put them behind you.

You adjust your lilac dress, whose princess-cut skirt falls in soft layers to the floor. The fabric moves with you, as if it were an extension of your own footsteps, and the color shimmers delicately under the silver lights.

The three of you make your way to one of the tables to take a seat and you take a closer look around you as the decorations and you also see familiar faces of some of your classmates, some laughing in groups and others on the dance floor with their dates.

And Alysanne, excited and obsessed with everything, wants to have memories of the whole night and soon the three of you are taking a long selfie session with her phone.

Cregan complains about too many photos and the laughter of the three fills the air as Alysanne continues to make sure she captures the best shots, changing angles and poses.

Alysanne, with a huge smile, spins around on herself and then grabs your hands to dance with her, laughing every time you both take a step out of rhythm. You can feel her pure happiness, an excitement that doesn't take long to become contagious and where Cregan soon joins in.

The dance floor is filling up and the sparkles of the lights reflecting off everyone's costumes and dresses create an enchanting and magical atmosphere.

The DJ starts mixing more upbeat songs, and you see how everyone is having fun, laughing and dancing.

Immediately this catches Alysanne's attention and she drags the three of you onto the dance floor with infectious laughter. Before you know it, you're in the middle of the dance floor with them, surrounded by movement and music.

The music beats on the floor and vibrates in your chest, and, slowly, you begin to let loose, moving to the beat of the songs as the colored lights swirl above you all.

“I'm going to get a drink!” you let them both know over the music.

You have no idea exactly how much time passes that you find yourself dancing, enjoying the night, the echo of laughter and the warmth of the crowd.

The euphoria makes you forget and enjoy yourself as you feel your throat dry and your feet start to ache, with your body starting to beg for water and a little break.

“Okay!” Cregan nods, throwing you a smile, still dancing with Alysanne.

You smile knowingly, since after all, these two deserve to have their moment, and you walk away towards the table where there are different desserts and the drinks for all the graduates.

You take a bottle of water, and as you drink, the immediate relief makes you close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the coolness.

And only at that moment, standing alone and a little apart, you notice the glances of some people around you, mainly girls passing by you and whispering something between them, looking at you out of the corner of their eyes.

Great.

You thought you were past all this but even at prom it doesn't stop.

You take a deep breath and look out onto the dance floor, where you make out Alysanne and Cregan dancing close together, smiling and animated. You certainly don't want to interrupt them and you look around again, trying to distract yourself with anything you can find to rest your feet on.

You try not to make a big deal of it and look back at them for just a few moments with a serious look on your face and again try to focus on regaining your energy, telling yourself that this shouldn't affect you.

You remind yourself that you are here for you and your friends, and that is all that should matter to you.

When your gaze unconsciously focuses on Floris.

With her arm intertwined with a boy, whom you recognize from the lacrosse team, she looks absolutely elegant with a beautiful hairstyle and a gorgeous pink dress.

And as she joins the party, she seems totally focused on enjoying the evening, her expression relaxed and happy.

You look away from her, focused on something else, where your attention slips unintentionally to Alys, surrounded by her friends.

In the distance, suddenly her gaze meets yours and you quickly look away, not knowing why but… you really don't want to deal with or care about those people anymore.

She's wearing dark makeup and a sensual emerald green dress that completely clings to her body and highlights her curves. She looks completely beautiful, but knowing her attitude and behavior, it makes her lose her charm.

You watch Helaena for a few more seconds, her energy lighting up the dance floor, when suddenly, a tall, familiar figure catches your attention on the other side of the room in the crowd.

Instead, you focus on Helaena, who you find among all the people dancing, getting carried away by the atmosphere and in the company of the friend who told you.

Her silver hair is swaying to the music and she shines in the middle of everyone in that beautiful sky blue dress and gold accessories, looking absolutely gorgeous.

Aemond is standing a few feet away, talking to Aegon, both looking absolutely handsome for the evening. Then, the atmosphere around you seems to fade a bit and he's the only one who catches your eye in the middle of the crowd.

And that mixture of emotions about him rises in your chest again.

You take a closer look at who is around him and it is only Aegon. You don't see any girl hanging on his arm or anything, so apparently he has come unaccompanied, just like you.

He is dressed in a dark suit that highlights his slender figure and impeccable posture, just like Aegon. The silver light of the disc balls bring out his silver hair and his face so perfectly detailed, giving it a glow that is almost unreal to you.

Your gaze lingers on him longer than you had anticipated. From a distance, you can notice the lack of expressions on his face and the small twitch of his lips as he speaks to Aegon, looking around him without really showing any emotion.

That eye contact takes the air out of you. The memory of all the things you shared, the conversations, the looks, the touching and kissing… it all comes over you.

And at that very moment, as if sensing the weight of your attention, Aemond looks up and sees you beyond the crowd, apart and alone. The visual connection is instantaneous, almost electric, and suddenly you feel all the people and bustle around you fade away.

You can't deny the attraction and deep affection that, even now, beat intensely in your chest. And, for an instant, you wonder if he too feels the same mix of nostalgia and sadness in the midst of it all.

You notice how he looks you up and down, lingering on every detail of what you're wearing today, his eyes shining, filled with a kind of wary hope and longing, completely stealing your breath.

Then, his body language tells you he's getting ready to move. Coming at you, with her determined gaze.

Oh God.

A sense of panic invades every part of your body. And before he can do anything, you look away and quickly make your way to the dance floor, blending into the crowd, heading towards your friends.

The music booms in your ears and your thoughts are in complete chaos, hitting you one after the other.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you tell yourself that you just want to enjoy the night, to stop thinking about him and what was, even if it's only for a few hours.

So time passes, the energy of the dance becomes more relaxed, and though you manage to avoid crossing paths directly with Aemond, his presence seems to haunt your mind like a lingering ghost, one that doesn't dissipate with the music or the bright lights.

You look around from time to time, and out of the corner of your eye you notice that he also seems to avoid being too close to you, although you can't help thinking that maybe he is also looking for you in the crowd, as you are looking for him.

Until, finally, the atmosphere immediately changes.

The lights dim and the silver and warm tones transform the room into an intimate place. Couples begin to approach the dance floor, holding hands, to dance to the slow songs. And you decide it's the perfect time to take a break.

You smile at Cregan and Alysanne, giving them another moment again, feeling a twinge of tenderness and, at the same time, unexpected loneliness.

You take a seat at one of the nearby tables, watching as the dance floor fills with couples slowly swaying to the music.

Dresses and suits intertwine, and for a moment, you let yourself be enveloped by the warmth of the atmosphere, allowing yourself to feel invisible in the midst of all that harmony.

You watch Floris dancing with that boy, Alysanne with Cregan of course, and Helaena dancing with her friend, both with amused smiles and talking softly without taking the slow dance so seriously. You also see Aegon dancing very close with a girl.

And as your eyes wander around the dance floor, your gaze focuses again on his figure, which seems just as lonely as yours.

A few tables away, Aemond sits alone, surveying the dance floor with an expression you fail to fully decipher. His fingers drum on the rim of his glass, and, for a moment, he seems lost in his own thoughts. He looks calm, almost vulnerable.

You stare at him longer than you think and sigh, averting your gaze, and as the seconds pass, the urge to stand still and do nothing begins to fade.

You bite the inside of your cheek and begin to move your foot up and down rapidly, feeling your heart begin to beat too fast. You watch all the people dancing again, hesitating.

Then you let out a long breath and without knowing exactly why, you take a deep breath and stand up. With slow steps, a momentum and a calmness you try to maintain, you head towards him.

As you get closer, you notice how his gaze, which was lost on the dance floor, suddenly focuses on you, noticing before out of the corner of his eye your approaching figure. Surprise and bewilderment mixed with something else appears in his gaze and you stop in front of him, nervous but determined.

Then neither of you say anything for a few moments. The same nerves make you unable to speak and the two of you just stand there, watching each other.

You feel how some people around you suddenly have their attention focused on both of you, waiting for what you will do, but you don't even pay attention to them. You just focus completely on him.

Until you sigh.

"Do you dance?" you ask softly and nervous.

The words seem to break the spell, and Aemond blinks, clearly surprised and somehow confused.

You watch the expression on his face, as if he's processing every word you've just said, looking for some hint of doubt or change of heart in your expression.

"S-sure," he says still confused, not expecting this at all.

There's a mix of emotions in his eyes, confusion, surprise and nervousness, something you wouldn't have expected to see in him. And you, not wanting to drag this out any longer than necessary, extend your hand to him.

He watches your face attentively and then your hand, still surprised, to finally take it gently. His fingers intertwine with yours, sending an electricity throughout your body through his touch as he stands up.

You swallow hard, feeling your heart beating like crazy and nervousness invading your whole system. And without another word, you both head for the dance floor.

Then, everything around you fades away, the murmurs and laughter, even the music itself becomes a distant whisper, and only he remains, next to you.

He places a hand on your waist, his touch delicate, as if he doesn't want to do anything that could break this fragile instant. You take his other hand, intertwining it with yours and as you both begin to move to the rhythm of the music, you feel how a mixture of emotions floods each of your senses.

Aemond watches you, his eyes fixed on yours and with a nervous little smile on his lips, as if he can't believe this is really happening.

The music moves forward, slow, allowing you to glide in front of each other. As his steps synchronize with yours, the movements become smooth and natural.

And in a moment you realize that you both are completely absorbed in each other, as if nothing and no one could interrupt this bubble that surrounds you.

Finally, Aemond breaks the silence, his voice barely audible over the music and shy, watching you with a gleam in his eye.

"You look beautiful."

He says to you, his words so sincere and emotionally charged that you feel a surge of warmth wash over you.

You wish his words didn't make you melt. But they do. And everything about him, every gesture, his closeness, the firm, protective touch of his hand on your waist, the way he holds you, as if you were something precious and delicate, envelops and intoxicates you.

"Thank you," you reply, feeling a soft smile appear on your lips, "You too... you look very handsome."

He smiles, marking the dimples on either side of his cheeks.

"I wasn't expecting you to come over," he admits, his eyes revealing something between vulnerability and surprise.

The tone of his voice, so soft and honest, makes you feel a warmth you haven't experienced in a long time.

"I didn't know I would," you reply with a barely perceptible smile, "But I thought, maybe... I don't want to spend the night running away," you confess.

He nods, not looking away.

"I didn't want it to be like that either."

His hand on your waist pulls you slightly closer to him with a firm movement and the slight brush makes you aware of the closeness between the two of you.

You feel your thoughts cloud over and you let yourself become more enveloped by him, unable to help it.

His chin brushes your forehead and you feel that at any moment your heart will jump out of your chest. It's an insistent, powerful beat that seems to resonate with every breath you take at his side.

Then, Aemond lowers his voice, his tone becoming softer, almost melancholy, as if his words are a secret shared only between the two of you.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date that day, you know? When I gave you the folder.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date that day, you know, when I gave you the folder," he confesses, with a certain melancholy tone, "But I knew it wouldn't be fair to ask you that and I really didn't want to hurt you anymore."

The sincerity in his tone pierces you, and you feel your own barriers begin to crumble. You listen to him with your heart pounding, absorbing every word.

Aemond sighs and his fingers tighten slightly at your waist.

"And a moment ago, when I saw you so perfect and so beautiful in this dress... I realized how much I wished I had walked through those doors with you on my arm," he says with a longing and sadness.

The music continues to envelop you and you feel his confession reverberate through you, intensifying every sensation, every emotion.

The strength of his words, of the connection that has been created between the two of you in the middle of this song, makes the air seem thick and charged with meanings that don't need to be explained.

Then you raise your gaze to him and you both stare at each other in silence, where your words seem to get caught in your throat.

His eyes roam over your face, as if he wants to remember every detail, as if he wants to take this moment with him. There is a sadness and a softness in his gaze that you haven't seen before, and it makes something in your chest tighten.

And again his voice breaks through the soft silence that envelops you.

"I'm sorry... for everything," he says barely a whisper, laden with a sincerity that resonates deeply.

His fingers trace slow circles on your back, small gestures that seem to try to comfort you and to comfort him too. The contact between the two of you is firm and warm, and yet, you feel as if Aemond fears that at any moment this could disappear.

For a moment, the music seems to fade, leaving only your heartbeat and the echo of his voice in the air.

You feel the urge to speak, to say something that would ease the vulnerability on his face, but you find it difficult to organize your thoughts.

Instead, you opt for a simple but meaningful gesture. You propel yourself a little towards him and leave a soft kiss on his cheek, then rest your head on his chest and gently inhale his expensive cologne, being comforting enough for you.

"It's okay," you murmur.

He lets out a sigh of relief, mixed with longing and makes his grip on your waist tighter, not wanting to let go. Then, he leaves a soft kiss on the crown of your head, resting his head on yours as you both continue to sway gently to the music.

"Thank you for giving me this dance," he murmurs.

You place a soft, small smile on your lips, then raise your gaze to his, watching him with nothing but fondness.

He continues to watch you with that softness and one of his hands goes up to your cheek. In a delicate, almost fearful touch, his thumb runs over your skin in a gesture that is both protective and vulnerable.

Then he rests his forehead against yours and you both close your eyes, as you lean into him.

You both fall silent, letting the slow rhythm of the music carry you away, allowing the moment to linger, in a fragile and honest peace.

You feel that you could stay like this, in this bubble of time and silence, without the need for words, because, in this instant, you both understand what has been said and what doesn't need to be said.

The song changes to another slow one and you both lose yourselves in the moment, enjoying it, not wanting it to end.

Time seems to stand still as you dance together, moving slowly and leisurely, as if nothing and no one else exists. The sounds of the party fade around you, leaving only the beating of your hearts and the faint brush of your breaths.

Your eyes close as you let go, feeling his hand on your back and the warmth his body gives off, so close and so full of meaning.

You both breathe in sync, your foreheads resting against each other, your eyes closed as the moment stretches out and becomes more than just a dance.

This instant is a truce, a refuge where everything else, the doubts, the pain, the past, is suspended and what follows is moving forward.

"You've got everything ready to go to college?"

His voice breaks the silence softly, barely a murmur, as if afraid to disturb the peace around you both.

"Yeah," you murmur, nodding.

"What are you traveling there on?"

"Well, I was checking with my dad about bus and plane ticket prices. But I still haven't made up my mind," you admit, remembering discussions about which was the safest and cheapest option.

Aemond nods, thoughtfully. Then, after a brief pause, he speaks with calm assurance.

"I can take you."

You look at him instantly surprised, definitely not expecting that.

"What?"

"I can take you," he repeats, sure of his words, "Well, sure, if you want," he hastens to clarify, "After all, we're going to the same place and I'll make the trip in my car," he explains, "There's plenty of room for your bags along with mine and so you won't have to spend on a ticket. Besides, it would be safer and I think, I don't know, you'd be more comfortable."

You remain silent, trying to assimilate what he has just said. There is something in his words, in the slow and sincere tone, that strikes a deep chord in you.

The idea of making the trip together, of sharing that important moment of departure, of having one last time alone before facing a new life, awakens a mix of emotions that are difficult to describe.

He lowers his gaze for a moment, nervous, clarifying in a low voice.

"It's just a suggestion... something I thought might make things easier for you. You don't have to do it if you don't want to."

Your heart pounds, and somehow, the simplicity of his offer, the naturalness with which he cares for you, causes a warm surge of gratitude and affection to wash over you.

"Can you really do that for me?" you ask quietly, with a little smile you can't help.

"Sure," he says absurdly softly, as if it weren't obvious, "But only if you want me to. I don't want to force you. It's just an option."

You look up at him, holding his gaze for a second that seems like forever, and nod slowly, allowing the feeling of relief and closeness to wash over you.

"I'd love to," you whisper, your voice barely a murmur, "Thank you."

The shadow of a smile tugs at his lips, and you can see the relief in his expression.

"No need to thanks."

Without another word, Aemond pulls you a little closer to him and again the two of you bring your foreheads together, letting the moment lengthen as the music changes to another slow rhythm.

You both remain like that, moving in silence and enjoying the moment, spending the last moment of your high school lives together, to start college together.

"Are you ready?"

Aemond watches you from the driver's seat, his hands resting calmly on the steering wheel with a small smile on his face.

The car is already loaded with suitcases for both of you and you nod, taking a deep breath to calm the emotions fluttering in your chest.

The thought of heading off together towards this new stage causes a mixture of nerves and excitement to wash over you, though a part of you also feels comforted by Aemond's presence at your side.

"Yes," you reply, adjusting your belt.

You watch him and he gives you one last knowing look before putting the car in move.

Saying goodbye to your dad was difficult, but it was something you were both already preparing for and you knew that moment would come.

Besides, he met Aemond, as your friend who will do you the favor of driving you to college and nothing more. And your dad felt safer with that instead of taking the plane or bus alone.

Especially after Aemond promised him countless times that he would take care of you at all times.

The road is serene at first, and Aemond turns on the radio, letting a soft melody fill the comfortable silence between them.

The roads stretch out in front of you, long and exciting, as the landscape changes shape and the kilometers pass, leaving behind the city where you experienced so much.

From time to time, you exchange glances, small comments about the places you see and the expectations each has for the university.

Aemond seems especially careful, attentive to every sign on the road and every change in your expression, as if he wants to make sure you are comfortable and at ease.

And he especially notices a change in your expression.

"Is something bothering you?" he asks you, his voice low but close, filling the space in a comforting way.

You watch him and after some hesitation, you shrug.

"I guess it makes me a little nervous not knowing what to expect," you admit, "This whole new stage... the idea of being alone in a new place."

Aemond nods, understanding what you mean, his eyes fixed on the road.

"I guess it's normal," he tells you softly, "It's almost obligatory to feel this way, but, for what it's worth... you won't be completely alone."

His gaze meets yours for a second before he turns back to the road.

"I'm going to be around if at any time you need anything or anything happens, anything at all."

You feel a warmth settle in your chest, and a part of your nerves seem to fade. The idea of him being there, close by, offering you that closeness, gives you a strange sense of relief.

"Thank you, Aemond," you murmur with a small smile.

He smiles, marking a dimple in his cheek, and turns his eyes to the front.

The ride continues, where the atmosphere in the car becomes more and more comfortable, chatting about small details, expectations, and the occasional joke that makes you both laugh comfortably.

And finally, as the two enter the town of Oldtown and the university looms in the distance, Aemond slows down, looking at the campus that would soon become his home.

"There it is," he says, a slight excitement in his voice.

The same excitement rubs off on you and excitedly, you take his hand, intertwining it with yours, excited and hopeful.

Hopeful that all that is to come for you in this place are good and promising things. As well as hopeful for Aemond and for you.

series taglist:

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @vhwyrm @strangersunghoon @queen-of-elves

[solaiced]

CASE 28: CHOSO KAMO AND YOU SHARE A POWER!

!content!: blood, period sex..?, eating out, choso is uneducated and not beta’d, literally drinking blood.

wc: 1,002

solace: the formatting is sooo weird…

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Choso, for his 150 years on Earth, does not know what a period is. Doesn't know why it happens, or how it affects someone. Sure, it hurts, he knows that. You've told him countless times. Cramps, you said.

But he somehow didn't understand that most people avoid having sex on these days, because, as you had explained, there's blood. Choso still doesn't get it. He means good. He doesn’t mind blood. But you did, apparently.

He thinks that you have connections to him and have a blood related cursed technique.

So you sat him down, one dreadful night, where you had your awful period, and walked him through every nook and cranny about having periods and the basics of the biological need for them.

"So... It's natural..." Choso inquires, and you nod, “but it hurts you? Because you’re not pregnant..." He seems salty about it, annoyed that women, when reaching a certain age, are pained because nature intended for them to get pregnant.

“Basically, yeah.” You’re happy he got it a tiny bit right.

"When did you get it?" He asks, and it takes a while to understand what he means.

“Uh, I think... At thirteen." You answer truthfully. Choso frowns.

“But that’s young…” Aw, he's so cute, worrying about this. Most men don't even think about it. You were so lucky to have him.

"Yean, but it's nature. Only way I can prevent them without getting pregnant is birth control and removing my uterus."

“So why don't you?" He pouts, cutie.

"Because I don't know if I want kids, and birth control has side effects I don't need right now." Chose looks at his phone and unlocks it, typing something. He's gotten used to phones, after Yuji taught him.

"Apparently, hot pockets are a good way to alleviate pain, did you know?" Of course you knew, but it's wholesome to know he's trying to help.

"Yeah, babe, I know."

"And making love, too!" The half curse exclaims, which could only mean one thing. He wants to help.

So, now you're in the shower with Choso, because you didn't want to wash the sheets, naked and bleeding on his cock.

"Does it hurt?" He asks for the nth time and you groan.

“No, babe, for the millionth time, move.” Taking that as the green light, he adjusts you, making sure you'd be steady in his arms and pulls out, dragging his long cock inside of your extra warm and wet cunt, your blood stains his pale skin and you moan.

Could this truly alleviate period pain? So far, you hadn’t had any cramps to report, so all's well. But that could change at any moment.

Then, Choso slowly enters you once more, dark eyes fixed on where you were connected bloodily. He exhales shakily, shutting his eyes, as if he was trying to hold back. And it's only now that you realize that you

were definitely more sensitive than before. Way more sensitive.

“Hey,” comes Choso’s strained voice, still painfully hard inside of you. "I don't want to hurt you, and…" He pauses, catching his breath like he just ran a marathon, even that was easy for him. “I know I’ll lose control. Can I eat you out?" Gosh, he was so polite, even

during sex. You nod, however. You didn't want a repeat of last time he hurt you. He cried so much it could’ve flooded japan.

"Are you sure, though? We can always stop, most guys don’t like touching their girls when they're on their periods.”

"I'm not like other guys, then." He carefully sets your feet down on the floor, opens the tap and lets the shower head wash in between your thighs, alongside his dick knowing the blood would crust. How sweet.

Choso gets on his knees, like he was praying for you, and swipes his tongue on your hot slit,

The first taste is addictive, forcing him to shove his tongue mside of your pussy while you gasped, throwing a leg over his shoulder. He places a securing hand on the outside of your thigh and kneads the fat as he slurped on your red cunt.

Your blood made its way to his lower face, and Choso doesn't hesitate to bury his head deeper between your legs. Your stomach churned at the idea of him consuming your blood like this.

But somehow, it was hot, and it made your pussy wetter, muscles taunter.

"Choso-ah! S'good... Don't stop..." You whine, pushing his head down and he looks up, showing his bloody canines off.

“Not gunnah." The half curse suckles on your clit, eliciting a loud moan, thankfully silenced by the sound of running water.

"Are you hurting?" Choso wiggles his tongue through your folds, you were so close... He can't stop.

"No! Faster, please!" You begs, whimpering as he bit on your cit lightly. And faster he did go.

He forced his tongue into your bloody cunt repeatedly, not even giving you time to realize you were cumming, seeing stars behind your eyelids and almost slipping from how weak your knees became.

“Fuck…” You sigh, throwing your head back against the shower wall. “Ch-Choso, you freak.” You giggle as you look down, pulling on his hair to make him look at you.

“Don’t.” The curse in question warns, his eyes seem to glow, but that’s impossible. He looked… monstrous. Feral, even.

“Don’t what..?” It’s surprising, how Choso can go from genteel and soft to mean and vicious. You could even consider it scary.

“Let me… let me eat some more…” He stares at your pussy, and you could even spot a small tear trying to slip out of his eye. “I just want to help with the pain.”

Right, the cramps. You haven’t felt any, maybe it did help, but that didn’t mean he should continue.

“It’s fine, babe. I’ll just be out of commission for a few days.” You reassure, patting his head.

“No.” Choso frowns, tongue dipping back in. “I want more.”

What have you done?

[harrywavycurly]

Loving a Killer: Mistakes in a Hardware Store

Pairing: Killer!Harry x wife!reader

Masterlist: Here

CW: Harry is a tad bit over protective in this, threats of violence, semi angsty bits, language.

A/N: Harry had done something wrong and shockingly enough it has nothing to do with what he does for a living, so enjoy him trying to get you to forgive him✨

“Looking at it every five seconds isn’t going to make it magically start ringing you know that right?” Harry just ignores Mitch’s comment as he looks at his phone for the sixth time in the last five minutes, letting out a sigh when he all he’s met with is the date and time on his Lock Screen, no message from you or your name flashing across it like it normally does when you call him. “Trouble in paradise?” Mitch asks as he looks over and watches Harry run a hand through his hair as he tosses his phone onto his desk.

“She’s not talking to me.” Is all he says before he stands up and begins pacing the length of his desk while Mitch spins his chair around so his back is facing his own desk allowing him to watch his bestfriend have what he could only describe as a breakdown of some sort due to not having heard from you all day. Harry pauses and runs a hand over his face then just looks at Mitch over his shoulder. “I think she’s mad-”

“What did you do?” Harry lets out a groan as he walks over to his desk and places his hands flat on top of it and Mitch raises a brow at him when he notices him look down and close his eyes while letting out a deep sigh. “Harry tell me you didn’t-”

“You’ve got to stop assuming I’m walking around killing people without telling you.” Harry jokes as he lifts his head to send Mitch a glare. “I didn’t even really put my hands on anyone this time.” He explains making his friend just roll his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Then what exactly did you do?”

“She went with me to get some stuff so I can fix the shed door in the backyard and while we were at the hardware store some dude came up to her and started chatting her up so I might’ve threatened him a little.”

“You’re such a hot head man you need to relax and realize your wife is a catch so dudes are going to want to try to flirt with her.”

“What the hell did you just say?” Mitch doesn’t even flinch at how harsh Harry’s tone is as he straightens himself up and takes a step towards him with a quirked brow, Mitch is extremely familiar to this side of his bestfriend. “I’m just supposed to let people flirt with her and think they have some sort of shot with her?”

“They’ll know they don’t have a shot with her because she’ll let them know. She doesn’t need you to do it.” Mitch casually explains as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world but Harry just lets out a scoff and throws his hands up in air, clearly annoyed at the idea of having his wife be the one to tell creeps to leave her alone.

“She shouldn’t have to worry about telling wanks who want to chat her up to fuck off.” He snaps while he walks back over to his desk to reach for his phone. “I’m her husband it’s my job to do that for her.” Mitch rolls his eyes at his explanation as he watches Harry tap away on his phone.

“No it’s your job to trust her and let her handle herself in situations like that.” Harry can’t help but feel his heart sink as Mitch’s words hit him, he knows he can be a tad bit overprotective when it comes to you and that often leads to him overreacting in certain situations but he’s never thought about how him reacting the way that he does could make you feel as if he doesn’t trust you or think you can’t handle yourself.

“I do trust her.” Mitch just nods as he uncrosses his arms so he can stand up from his chair. “I just-you know how I am with her.” He says with a sigh as Mitch takes a step towards him so he can place a hand on his shoulder.

“I know how you are with her and I know it’s because you love her but sometimes it’s a little much. But the real question is how are you gonna fix this?” Mitch asks as he gives Harry’s shoulder a squeeze before letting it go. “I hear flowers work wonders.” He suggests making Harry send him a glare making Mitch chuckle because sometimes it’s glaringly obvious how single Mitch is compared to Harry.

“Already had a bouquet delivered to her office this morning since she only works a half day today.” He mumbles and Mitch just gives him a nod of approval as he watches Harry tap a few things on his phone before he locks it and slides into his back pocket. “I have to go. You good to handle the rest of the day without me?” Harry questions making Mitch just brush him off as he turns to head back towards his desk.

“Yeah I’m fine we have that Gavin guy tomorrow and today is just paperwork.” Harry just nods at Mitch’s answer before he gathers his keys and tosses his work bag over his shoulder. “Good luck.” Mitch says with a smile as Harry gives him one more glance before turning and heading out their shared office door and down the hallway for the door that opens to the stairs leading up to the lobby of the building the two of them work at.

Harry hates the feeling he gets when he walks inside the front door, he’s not met with the usual warmth that always radiates off of you and seeps into his body and relaxes him as it makes its way from his tired feet all the way up to his sore shoulders. Today he’s met with silence and the utter coldness that comes with it and it’s almost enough to send a shiver down his spine, but the only thing that keeps him from turning around and leaving is that he knows you’re home because he parked next to your car in the driveway and he is willing to do anything get your warmth back into the house.

He knows where you’re at, it’s just something that he can’t help with what he does for a living he knows how to keep track of people when they’re in relatively close proximity to him. So as soon as he walked in the front door he could see your foot hanging off the love seat tucked away in the corner of the living room near the bookshelf next to the floor lamp that you opted to turn on instead of the main light. He acts as if he didn’t see you as he drops his keys in the bowl by the door and slips his shoes off before he makes his way into the kitchen where he places his work bag on the table, he can feel your eyes on him from the living room and he takes that as a decent sign that you’re even wanting to look at him.

He runs a hand through his hair as he contemplates his next move, he knows you don’t like confrontation so you won’t be the one to tell him you’re mad at him so if he wants this to get resolved in a timely manner he’s going to need to be the one to initiate the conversation but he’s just not in a hurry to hear you say you’re upset with him. So Harry does what he thinks is the best thing to do in the moment because he knows you, he knows what you really need from him in this moment and he’s more than willing to give it to you if it spares him, at least for a few minutes from having to hear you tell him how unhappy he made you the other day. He turns around and quietly heads into the living room, he watches as you close the book he knows you stopped reading the moment he walked through the front door and place it on the side table near the lamp. As soon as he’s in front of you he reaches down and grabs your hands as he drops to his knees, he looks at you as he brings your hands to his lips and places sweet kisses to your knuckles and he doesn’t miss the slight shade of pink your cheeks get at his actions.

“I’m sorry baby.” He makes sure his words come out nice and clear so you don’t miss them between little pecks to your knuckles. “I know I made you upset yesterday and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have threatened him or-”

“We’ve had this conversation before haven’t we Harry?” You ask making Harry just swallow before nodding his head and he swears he feels his heart drop to his stomach when you turn and look away from him. “I know you want to protect me from all the creeps and jerks but Harry yesterday you-”

“Don’t say it.” He cuts you off as he lets your hands slip out of his as he stands up. “Please don’t say it.” His voice is low as he takes a small step away from you as he feels as if his world might be crumbling down around him as the thought of you telling him you were afraid of him bounces around in his head.

“Harry look at me.” He can’t help himself as he does what you ask because even though his whole world may feel like it’s on the verge of falling apart he’s still your husband, the man who hasn’t ever really been able to not do whatever it is you ask of him. “I’m not afraid of you.” He feels your hands on his arms slowly running up until they are cupping the sides of his face making sure he can’t look away from you. Your words take a moment to sink in through the layers of sheer panic and anxiety running through his mind but when they finally do Harry lets out a deep breath and feels as if his legs could give out at any moment with the amount of relief that washes over him.

“I was going to say that in that moment you were being one of the jerks you try to protect me from all the time.” All Harry can do is just nod because you’re right, he was being exactly the type of person he tries to keep you away from and honestly Harry is still recovering from the fact you admitted you aren’t afraid of him so a nod is the best he can do in the moment. “You threatened someone’s life all because he was asking me if I had any recommendations for a good weather resistant wood varnish.” When Harry rolls his eyes he instantly knows it’s a mistake because he feels your hands drop from his face making his lips turn downward into a slight frown while you take a few steps away from him.

“I’m sorry sweetheart but that was clearly a line and he was trying to flirt-”

“So him flirting with me means you need to come in and grab him by his shirt and tell him that if he so much as looks at me again the next project you’ll be working on will be his coffin?” Harry can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve raised your voice since he’s met you, each time has almost always been towards him and he hates that he’s the one who gets you to the point where you lose your ability to speak in your usual soft and gentle tone and are left with no choice but to make your voice louder and a little meaner in hopes it’ll help get your point across more clearly.

“I didn’t mean to grab him. That was a mistake.” He doesn’t make an attempt to get closer to you even though every part of him wants to reach out and pull you into him, he wants to give you the space you need to tell him exactly how his actions made you feel and he knows you won’t be able to do that if he crowds you. And as much as he normally loves to play dirty and use his knowledge against you, this time he wants you to get everything out because he wants to be better for you so if he has to stand here and take it for a few more minutes then so be it.

“Was that the only mistake you made yesterday?” He wants to say he really didn’t make any mistakes yesterday but he doesn’t, he just rubs his lips together as you place a hand on your hip letting him in on the fact you’re getting annoyed at this conversation.

“Please just answer me because I don’t want to argue with you anymore but I need to know if you really think that’s the only mistake you made yesterday.” Harry can tell by the slight pleading tone of your voice that you’re beginning to break, your walls of anger are starting to crumble and he can’t help himself but feel a small sense of relief because he can work with this, he can find a way to make your walls come down and get you to forgive him.

“No.” He answers as he takes a small cautious step towards you making you raise an eyebrow at him as a signal to have him elaborate on his answer. “I shouldn’t have threatened him or raised my voice in the store because I know how you feel about causing scenes in public.” He adds as he takes another small step towards you and he can’t help the small smirk that forms on his face when he sees your hand drop from your hip as you playfully roll your eyes at the mention of causing a scene.

“Anything else?” Your voice is much softer now and Harry feels like this is a good time to take a chance so he reaches an arm out so he can place a hand on your hip and he smiles when you don’t make any moves to wiggle out of his grasp or bring your own hand down to push his away.

“Letting you give me the silent treatment for the rest of the day. That’s probably the biggest mistake I made because you know how much I love hearing you talk.” Now normally you’d take that as a tease of some sort but Harry’s not an idiot, or at least not in this moment so he’s sure to sound as serious as possible without ruining the lighthearted mood that’s beginning to form between the two of you.

“You love hearing me talk?” Harry just gives you a smile as he ever so gently pulls you closer to him by his hold on your hip.

“Your voice is one of my favorite sounds.” He admits without a single drop of hesitation because it’s the truth. “Especially right before you fall asleep and it’s this mixture of a whisper and just mumbles of nonsense.” His eyes stare into yours as he raises his free hand so he can brush a few strands of hair out of your face and back behind your ear. “But my favorite is when it’s got this hint of excitement to it like when you’re telling me about a new book you found that you’re now obsessed with or better yet the rants you go on about books you hate those are very fun and your voice gets this almost twinge of absolute disgust to it that I always find entertaining because it’s so rare you find something you don’t like.” He keeps his hand on the side of your face cupping your jaw, gently running his thumb over your cheek.

“So really baby it about killed me not getting to hear your voice for a whole day all because I was an asshole and couldn’t handle some guy flirting with you in a Home Depot.” He wants to pull your face towards his and seal his words with a kiss but he doesn’t, he’s a gentleman after all and knows it’s only right to let you decide when he’s earned his kissing privileges back sees as you just broke the day long silent treatment you were giving him not even five minutes ago.

“His name was Brad.” Harry’s grip on your hip tightens a little while he other hand falls from your face as you give him an unwanted detail of your encounter yesterday. “Maybe if you knew that before you went all crazy on him you would’ve reconsidered? Because who’s going to pick some dude named Brad over their hot husband named Harry?” He just chuckles as you give him a playful smirk while reaching your hands up to grab both sides of his face.

“Well when you put it like that.” He jokes as he feels you begin to pull his face down towards yours. “I really am sorry sweetheart I swear it won’t happen again.” He whispers as he bumps the tip of his nose into yours making you smile.

“I know you are and that’s why I forgive you.” That’s all Harry needs to hear before he allows himself to close the gap between his lips and yours, he feels you smile against his lips as you pull him even closer to you when you feel him try to pull away.

“I love you.” He mumbles between kisses making you giggle as your hands go from his face down to his chest so you can grip onto his shirt while his hand holds onto the back of your neck.

In this moment Harry knows that the two of you are going to be okay, that while you may hate how he over reacts and gets a little too protective at times, you still love him and haven’t decided to give up on him or at least not yet. So Harry decides right then and there that he’s going to actually try to be better, but while he really will try he can’t promise he won’t mess up every now and then because he’s still Harry, and when it comes to you he doesn’t think he’ll ever be okay with people getting too close or being too friendly.

[ivymarquis]

Say You Won’t Let Go

Shower Shenanigans

Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 2.7k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Zombie!AU, sexual tension, masturbation

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

It’s still dark out. You feel heavy, limbs weighted down in a way that has nothing to do with your pregnancy and everything to do with the furnace beside you in bed and the heady sensation of comfort rolling over you in waves.

The cold nipping at you has been such a constant you barely notice it until now with its distinct absence.

You’ve never been one to fret over waking in the middle of the night. You know at some point you’ll fall back asleep so blessedly avoid the oh god why can’t I sleep why am I awake cycle that inevitably keeps people up at night.

Despite being separate when you drifted off to sleep, at some point in the night the chill of incoming winter chased the pair of you together under the covers.

You’re on your left side, John behind you with his arm draped across your belly and something at your lower back.

Hello.

Turns out his overall stature and general demeanor isn’t the only thing about him that’s imposing.

There’s a flicker of interest, a small flame that you try to tamper down immediately out of shame and embarrassment.

You’re pregnant, for God’s sake and he’s asleep. Nothing about this is intentional on his end.

You’re just a hormonal cocktail going through dick withdrawals. He’s not interested. This is the kind of bullshit that got you pregnant in the first place.

David- the man who got you into this mess because you most assuredly did not impregnate yourself- had rapidly lost interest once you started to show, and you’ve been focusing on the whole not dying thing so your libido has taken a backseat for the last while.

Hard to worry about rubbing one out with death looming overhead at every turn.

But now?

You’re safe and fed and warm and tucked up against a man who absolutely would turn your head in another life.

You’re being fucking delusional. He’s doing the right thing- the kind thing by trying to take you back with him. Nothing more. Soldiers are supposed to protect civilians, that’s their whole job (you also may or may not be delusional about the moral soundness of someone paid to follow orders and kill on command, but hey, you’re not exactly spoiled for choice here).

He’s just doing his job.

If you were alone in your own bed, perhaps you’d give into the urge to run your fingers across your thigh and reach between your legs- with some effort and wriggling.

Then again, if you were in your own bed you wouldn’t have John’s morning wood pressing against your lower back, so it’s entirely plausible your libido wouldn’t have been reignited.

You try to shift a bit towards the edge of the bed- give yourself some breathing room so you can clear your head and stop being silly.

It doesn’t go well at all.

John seems to be a clingy sleeper. The moment you gain any real space between you his reaction is immediate. The arm draped across your belly locks against you immediately, his other arm looping under and around your neck loosely to pull you back against him.

Surely he must be awake- there’s no way he can react this strongly in his sleep.

He gives absolutely no indication. There’s a short, irate huff as his nose presses against the nape of your neck and reaffirms his hold on you, and then he’s back to snoring lightly in your ear. And little John is right back to pressing against the small of your back.

Well shit. So much for that plan.

You have little option other than to deal with it (or wake him up- you don’t exactly want to go down that particular rabbit hole, however), squirming with the realization that you are wet and trapped and unable to do anything about either.

Despite being clung to and held hostage, you manage to do the only thing that you can in this situation and fall back asleep.

When you wake up John is gone.

It is still warm under the blankets but you have very limited patience to see if he just slipped away for a moment and is coming back soon- Especially with your kid sitting on your bladder.

You can hear him moving around downstairs, so it appears that this part of your routine will not be changing. He leaves you to sort yourself out in the morning in your own time, and waits to bring you down the stairs after you've finished in the bathroom.

Before things went to shit, you were a big fan of hot showers. Nowadays you’re just grateful to have access to running water and you don’t mind the cold near as much as you thought you would. But gone are the days of lingering under the spray and enjoying the heat while you dissociate about work. Now showers are what they always were supposed to be- a measure to get yourself clean. Get in, get done, get out.

You really must be a hormonal cocktail going through withdrawals, however, based on the mess between your legs as you clean yourself up.

Maybe if you just handle it yourself you’ll calm down and stop feeling like a cat in heat.

As your hand moves between your legs, you try to keep an ear out for John.

That somehow he’ll just know that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be, and come to investigate it.

You’re grateful for the water muffling you- the way your breath hitches before a shaky exhale as soon as you touch yourself. Provides some sort of insulation incase John comes to check on you, although you don’t plan on being particularly loud.

It’s been so long since anyone has touched you, including yourself.

There’s a fair bit of maneuvering on your end, trying to find the pose that will best let you get between your legs while standing under the cold spray.

You get it figured out, need and practice having you working yourself up in no time at all.

Back before things went tits up, you had the comfort of your bedroom, a variety of toys, and whatever erotica or porn suited your fancy at the time.

Now, you don’t have more than your imagination but find it to be perfectly up for the task.

At first you’re not thinking much about anything- just enjoying the sensations as you circle your clit. Your other hand reaches to grasp and tease one of your nipples.

Despite the cold water your body is flush and warm between your legs. All the bloodflow heading south.

You can feel the coil tightening in your belly as you work yourself up.

It’s like you hit a plateau though, or a proverbial wall. The pleasure doesn’t fizzle out or taper off but it just won’t quite go where you want it to. Just the physical stimulation isn’t enough to get you off.

You’re numb to the cold, mind wandering as you mentally tab through recollections of your prior go-to fodder, or previous encounters with partners who’d known what they were doing and had done their jobs properly.

That helps, but still isn’t quite enough.

Christ, this is taking too long now. John knows how long you shower for. He’s going to notice if you don’t hurry up.

The thought of John catching you sends a jolt of electricity straight to your pussy.

You absolutely do not want him walking in on you. But the thought of his voice purring low in your ear as he praises you, big hands roaming the expanse of your body as he guides you exactly how he wants you- gruff and taciturn with his orders-

That does the trick, grabbing you by the back of the neck and hurdling you across the finish line.

And God help you, you’re not sure if it’s simply because of how long it had been since you last had any sexual gratification, or if the captain really just has that much of your attention- but the orgasm that rips through you is enough to make your knees buckle.

You’re no stranger to handling your own pleasure but it’s not often you literally make your own legs shake.

You are struck rather quickly with the realization that if you do not sit down, you are going to fall down.

It’s far from graceful, but you manage to land as gently as you can, given the situation.

You’re dazed, completely unrelated to the fall. Good God you’ve been in dire need of relief to have this strong of a reaction to getting yourself off.

Reality comes knocking at the door amid your post masturbatory bliss. The cotton pulls away from between your ears, and the cold settles on you about the same time.

If you don’t hurry up and get yourself dried and dressed, there’s no way John isn’t going to come looking for you.

You reach forward and fiddle with the taps to turn off the water. What you can’t quite do is bring yourself to stand just yet.

You’ll sit for a second and then try to get up. The cold biting at you proves to be an excellent motivator to try soon, as well as the porcelain of the tub. It’s not exactly comfortable so you have no intention of staying here all day.

Just as you take a breath to psych yourself to get your legs back underneath you, the sound of John’s knuckles rapping against the door breaks the silence.

“You plan on coming out sometime today, Love?”

“I’ll be out in a minute!” You hope your voice doesn’t sound too pitched like a child who definitely just got caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

“In your own time, then,” he huffs from the other side of the door and you can just see the pinched expression on his face through the wood. Thankfully though you hear the floorboards creaking as he steps away from the bathroom.

Pleased with yourself that you’ve successfully managed to deter him, you decide now you’re ready to tackle the hurdle of getting back up.

A very pregnant woman on her ass and a wet bathroom does not make for a very good situation, unfortunately.

You’re not very far out of a sitting position when one of your feet slips. It’s a stretch to call it a fall, really. You’re fine.

But when your foot slips, on reflex you move your arm to catch yourself and bang your elbow. The immediate tingling and accompanying unpleasantness is just the old it’s not very funny when you hit your funny bone, but you can’t stifle the reflexive “God fucking damnit” from escaping you unprompted.

There’s no telling which of those was the first to catch his attention, but you hear the floorboards protest his return to the door. “What was that?”

Ah, shit.

“Nothing!” You know your tone isn’t very convincing now, stress pitching it up an octave.

There’s a silence that stretches just long enough that you think maybe- just maybe- that John is going to leave you be.

That thought is dashed immediately when he simply states, “I don’t believe you. I’m coming in.”

“John, no!” You immediately protest. “I’m-” the door opens, his focus on the air space your head would be occupying if you weren’t currently on your ass. “-fine,” you finish lamely as his gaze drops to yours.

The look of are you fucking kidding me is scrawling across his face so plainly it might as well be written in sharpie.

“What the hell happened?” He demands, taking the two strides required to get to you.

“I’m fine!” You protest again (from the ground). “I got dizzy and sat down so I wouldn’t fall.” Not entirely untrue, and mollifies John enough that now his expression is just one of being disgruntled.

While he’s probably just deciding what to do with you, you’re keenly aware of the fact that you are wet and naked and on the floor with him towering over you. It doesn’t do you any good in the slightest but try to draw your limbs up in an attempt for some form of modesty.

“Right,” he seems to have come to a conclusion for how he wants to proceed, “let’s get you back on your feet and dried off before you catch your death.”

Only way out is through, you suppose.

You really, really, really wish he would just turn around and leave so you can salvage your dignity in solitude, but you can also just tell that that isn’t going to be an option. He’s not going to leave you until he’s satisfied you haven’t busted your ass too severely (you didn’t, but you also know it’s a lost cause to try to convince him).

He really does have quite the imposing figure, even as he kneels down to your level to better get a hold of you.

You almost ask for a towel- something for some sort of modesty, some sort of barrier between your wet, naked, vulnerable body and the very man you were thinking about that got you in this scenario to begin with.

Pragmatically you realize it’s not a great idea. It won’t wrap fully around you to cover everything anyway, and your attention should be on getting back on your feet and not worrying about what the towel is doing. It will probably just fall in the impending shuffle anyway.

His hands are gentle with you, despite the various scars suggesting that he is often not a gentle man. Firm enough to get hold of you and make sure you don’t slip away from him without being overbearing.

Much like last night, you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes right now. Which is fine, because you can bury your face in the crook of his neck and look past his shoulder like this, avoiding his gaze entirely.

Your arms are around his neck as he positions you how he likes, readjusting his hold on you.

“Feel like you’ve got your legs under you?” He asks, and you huff. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“So she claims despite being on her arse in the bath,” John huffs right back at you before starting to count.

Context clues tell you that “One, two, three,” is your cue to make a go of it.

John’s grip lingers for a moment- “You don’t feel dizzy do you?”- assessing how you feel now that you’re standing. You can’t, in all fairness, begrudge him that as that’s your story for how you ended up on the ground anyway.

“No,” you feel like a broken record insisting you’re fine and decide against continuing to protest against his involvement. “Can I have my towel, please?”

As he releases you to do as you ask, the instability you feel isn’t so much a physical one as one that’s much less tangible.

You’re quick to take the towel from him when he hands it over, eager to have something between you. You feel somewhat less exposed this way, even though it’s not really doing you any good.

It’s like something out of your silly little paperback bodice rippers when he tilts your chin up to look at him. You’re still avoiding eye contact which is likely what prompts him to do this.

The movement gets him the desired result as you instinctively follow his cue to look at him, clinging to the towel like a lifeline.

He’s assessing you, you realize. Sorting out for himself if he believes that you’re actually fine despite your numerous protests.

At a certain point he’s clearly decided that he’ll accept that you’re unharmed.

He clears his throat, satisfied momentarily but still seemingly content with being overbearing.

“I promise I’m fine. I need to get dressed,” its an assurance and a request wrapped together- please leave. You just want to dry off and get your clothes on, and forget that this happened.

The end of the world hasn’t totally knocked away your sense of modesty, and given your recent revelations of how your emotions are just one hormone cocktail regarding John, you can’t quite decide how you feel at the moment.

The caveman grunts, giving you a final once over before turning and leaving, the door clicking shut behind him.

You’re alone now, which is what you want, and naked and cold.

[mykuup]

DIE PRΛNDIVM (𝙂𝙤𝙙'𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙡)

back to navigation here

My Masterlist

Summary : The young emperor is mad at his brother. Again. And to let go all of his frustration and anger, he needs to devour something sweet

wc : 1.6k

Warnings : no spoiler from the movie // SMUT // food play // oral (f receiving) // power play // dub con // servant reader // afab reader (but no description) // porn without plot

A/n : Because I fell in love with the character the millisecond I saw that first picture of him, I had to write a little something. I went to see the movie last night and I'm exciting to write/read more about him!

No proofread, we die like men in the arena ⚔

Taglist : @byronking @stardancerluv

DIE PRΛNDIVM (𝙂𝙤𝙙'𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙡)

Everyone in the Colosseum fell silent, eyes fixed on the Emperor. The eldest sibling rose from his bisellium, descending the marble steps with deliberate grace. His arm extended, fist clenched. In the arena, bodies of slaves and gladiators lay strewn about, victims of the bloodbath. The two remaining fighters stood amidst the carnage—one dominating, the other faltering. The youngest, surprisingly, had the upper hand. 

Now, Geta would decide whether this favored gladiator deserved to be spared. Yet everyone knew better. Geta thrived on suffering and relished the fear in the eyes of those standing before him. His lips curled ever so slightly as he studied the fighter’s horrified expression. Without a word, his thumb tilted upward.

The gladiator would die, and the crowd roared in approval.

As the last fight concluded, the audience began trickling out of the Colosseum. Back at the palace, preparations for the evening banquet were well underway. Servants hurried to set a feast worthy of both emperors. Caracalla, in his typical rage, had stormed out of the dining hall, vowing to kill his brother next time. 

Geta remained behind, unfazed by the threat. It wasn’t the first time, and he welcomed the day he’d face his brother in a final battle. Their mother, however, was stricken, her eyes pleading as she stood beside Geta. Seeing the fury in his dark eyes, she dismissed everyone with a wave, trying to quell the storm inside him.

Just then, you entered the room, unaware of the tension in the air. A heavy platter of exotic fruits balanced in your hands. Too late, you realized your mistake. The Empress’ gaze cut into you as you froze in place, unsure if you should turn back or apologize. Your heart raced, breath shallow.

“Leave us,” Geta commanded, his voice low but menacing. You moved to obey, relief flooding you—until he spoke again. 

“Not you.”

His words stopped you cold. You dared not look up, only catching the apologetic glance the Empress gave as she slipped out of the room, leaving you alone with the Emperor.

“Augustus, I—” you began, but he cut you off sharply.

“Come here.”

You obeyed, placing the platter down near the roasted pig and standing by his side, nerves on edge. You had never been this close to him before. The sheer force of his presence made your pulse quicken. You barely registered him as he picked at bread and cheese, sipping wine and watching you, eyes narrowing with every silent second that passed.

Finally, he looked up from his cup, his gaze sweeping over you from head to toe. He sighed, the sound weighted with something you couldn’t place—disappointment, perhaps? Annoyance?

“Take it off,” he ordered, his voice smooth but laced with authority. “And lie on the table.”

For a moment, your mind refused to process the command. Your eyes widened, flicking to where his finger pointed—your tunic. 

“Augustus, I can—" you began to stammer, panic rising. “I’ll call for one of the—”

“Take. It. Off,” he repeated, his tone harder now. Impatience flickered in his eyes.

You knew better than to defy him. Slowly, you obeyed, pulling your tunic over your head and climbing onto the table, kneeling, heart pounding in your chest. You focused on your hands, clasped tightly in your lap, until his fingers tilted your chin upward, forcing you to meet his gaze.

He was enjoying this.

The power, the fear radiating from you—it fed his dark desires. A thin sheen of sweat covered your skin, making you glisten in the dim candlelight, like prey trapped in the jaws of its predator.

“What did I ask you to do?” His voice was soft, mocking.

“You...you asked me to take off my garments,” you whispered, voice trembling.

“And?”

“And...to lie on the table.”

A satisfied smirk curled his lips as he released your chin. His brow arched in silent command, daring you to continue.

The table beneath you felt impossibly cold, a stark contrast to the heat building in the room as Geta’s gaze roamed over your body. It sends shivers through your entire body. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving you, drinking in the sight of your trembling form.

Without a word, he reached for the platter of exotic fruits beside him. His movements were slow, and deliberate, as though savoring the control he held over the moment. He reached for a ripe fig, its skin taut and glossy, and placed it just above your chest, the juice beginning to leak as it pressed against your warm skin. His lips quirked into a small, cruel smile as he watched your body shudder involuntarily at the touch.

“You make a perfect platter,” he muttered, his voice a mixture of satisfaction and dark amusement. He moved slowly, savoring each moment. A slice of pear next, laid carefully just below the fig, the scent of the fruit mingling with the faint sweetness of wine still on his breath. His fingers grazed your skin as he worked, but never lingered, keeping you on edge, anticipating his every move.

Geta's eyes darkened, the predatory gleam intensifying as he added more fruit—a handful of berries scattered across your stomach, a slice of melon placed delicately at the curve of your hip. Each touch was firm but restrained, as though he was barely holding himself back from something deeper, something darker. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows that seemed to dance along with his teasing touches.

You couldn’t move. His power held you in place, a predator watching his prey. So you lay still, every inch of your body vibrating with tension, not from fear alone, but from something else—something you couldn’t define. His control over you was absolute, his gaze devouring every inch of you as if you were the feast laid before him.

He leaned over, so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. Slowly, he picked up a piece of fig from your chest with his fingers, bringing it to his mouth. His eyes met yours, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of something beyond cruelty—desire. It was faint, but unmistakable, lurking behind his usual mask of detachment.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement.

He placed another fig on the hollow of your throat, his fingers lingering for just a moment longer than before. His thumb brushed your pulse, feeling the rapid beat beneath your skin. “So fragile,” he whispered, the words almost tender, but laced with an unsettling hunger. He bent forward, his lips brushing against the fig as he bit into it, his breath hot and uneven as his mouth hovered dangerously close to your skin. When he reached the last grape, just above your navel, he paused. He leaned closer, his breath hot against your skin, and you could feel the tension coil tighter. His fingers trailed across your side, light, but enough to remind you who held your life in his hands.

“Such a waste of good food,” he whispered, his voice dripping with cruel satisfaction, “on something so...fragile.”

Your breath caught, your chest rising and falling beneath the weight of his attention. Every part of you was strung tight as if you were one heartbeat away from breaking.

He continued his meticulous display, placing another slice of fruit at your navel, then further down, along your hips. His fingers, now slick with juices, traced along your sides, leaving a sticky sweetness behind. His touch felt heavier now, more deliberate as if the slow build of his desire was becoming too much for even him to contain.

Geta’s eyes, once hard and calculating, were now glazed with something more primal. He stood still for a moment, staring down at you, his breath coming faster, his chest rising and falling as if he were fighting an internal battle. His hand hovered above you, fingers twitching with barely restrained hunger. He was losing his control. His fingers trailed down your lower belly and you gasped when you felt his fruits-coated fingers sliding between your folds. Both of you were surprised about how wet you were already and before you could close your thighs, Geta’s mouth was on your core. His tongue lapped a long strip, tasting both you and the fruit juices, offering him the perfect mix of sweet and salty. You shiver, a soft moan escaping your mouth. Without even thinking of it, your hips started to move on their own accord, chasing the pleasure your emperor was offering to you.

‘Don’t move. We don’t want you to waste those delicious fruits right?’ His voice was commanding, firm yet you could hear a hint of playfulness. ‘Yes’, you sigh as you feel another lap.

‘Yes, who?’ There he was. The egocentric emperor. You knew he liked to show his power and loved to be praised. ‘Yes, my emperor.’ Oh, he wasn’t ready for that boldness, and he would never admit that he enjoyed your possessiveness at this moment.

He hums against your core, sending vibrations through your entire body before he starts sucking at your clit. You cried out from the pleasure and cried out more when he added two fingers to the mix, cradling them to reach that sweet spot inside your velvet walls. The rings adorning his fingers were a cold contrast with your heated body, sending shivers down your spine. Geta could feel you shaking as he went faster so his other hand landed on your belly, pinning you down in place, soiling the sleeve of his silk toga in the process.

Without warning, you cum all other his face, drenching his collar at the same time. When he finally let go of your pussy, he crawled to your laying form, a devilish smile plastered on his face. He came close to your ear, getting a bite of a slice of pear he displayed on your collarbone earlier. His voice was low as he whispered.

‘Take that platter with you and bring it to my quarter. I’m not done eating.’

[girl-next-door-writes]

And Everything Changed

Characters: Eddie Munson x reader

Summary: Eddie Munson’s D&D game takes a surprising turn when a new player arrives, leading to unexpected romance and vulnerability.

Word Count: 1527 words

Prompt: ‘Now Kiss her.’

A/N: This is for @caplanbuckybarnes Disney Celebration

Eddie Munson sat in the dimly lit room, drumming his fingers on the table, waiting for the Hellfire Club members to arrive. This was their big campaign night, the night when their characters would either emerge victorious or face unspeakable doom. But there was a problem—Gareth had dropped out last minute, flu. A replacement was required, and fast.

When Dustin suggested the idea earlier in the caffeteria, Eddie had balked.

"Are you sure about this?" Eddie asked, his fingers still tapping a restless rhythm. "She's never played DnD before."

"Trust me, Eddie. She’s cool. Plus, she's into fantasy stuff," Dustin replied, already confident that this would work out.

Eddie sighed and ran a hand through his untamable hair. It wasn’t that he doubted your ability to grasp the game—it was something else. You’d been hanging out with them more lately, joining their lunch tables and occasional after-school hangouts. And as much as Eddie tried to play it cool, there was something about you that made his pulse race and his thoughts jumble. You were... different. And maybe that’s what scared him.

"Alright, fine. Bring her in. But if she can't handle the pressure, it's on you," Eddie said, pretending to be casual, even though a small part of him was excited at the thought of spending the evening with you.

When you walked into the session that evening, Eddie’s breath hitched. You looked a little out of place, unsure of what you were stepping into, but still radiating confidence. Dustin had given you a brief rundown of what you were getting yourself into, but nothing could have prepared you for the theatrical spectacle that was Eddie Munson running a Dungeons & Dragons campaign.

"Welcome to the Hellfire Club," Eddie said, his voice deep and theatrical as he gestured to the table. "I hope you're ready for the most intense adventure of your life."

You smiled, a little shy but intrigued. "Thanks. I hope I don’t mess up too much."

"Nah, you'll be fine," Dustin chimed in. "Eddie's a good teacher."

Eddie shot Dustin a glare, as if to say 'don't oversell me,' but then he turned back to you and gave you one of his trademark devilish grins. "Alright, sit down, newbie. Let’s get started."

As the game kicked off, Eddie watched you carefully. You were picking things up quickly, asking questions when needed but mostly diving into the story with surprising enthusiasm. The room was buzzing with energy as everyone got lost in the game, but Eddie couldn’t help but be distracted by you.

It wasn’t just your character’s quick thinking or the way you seemed to take to the fantasy world so easily—it was you. The way your eyes lit up when something exciting happened in the game. The way you leaned forward when your character was in danger. And how, when you laughed at one of his ridiculous voices, it felt like a little victory.

As the campaign progressed, something shifted. The game wasn’t just a game anymore—it became a stage for something bigger. Every glance between your character and Eddie’s NPCs seemed to carry more weight. Every time your characters interacted, it felt like the two of you were playing out something just beneath the surface, something neither of you had the courage to confront directly.

And then it happened.

The group had just survived a major battle. Your character, an inexperienced mage, had managed to cast a spell that turned the tide in their favor, saving everyone from certain doom. Eddie, as the dungeon master, described the aftermath in vivid detail.

"The smoke clears, and all that’s left are the charred remains of your enemies. But as the dust settles, you realize something—your companion, Sir Andor," he said, referring to the noble knight NPC he’d been playing, "is badly wounded. He falls to the ground, bleeding."

You looked at Eddie, your brow furrowing. "I rush over to him. Can I do anything?"

Eddie leaned forward, the intensity of the moment pulling everyone in. "Sir Andor looks up at you, his breaths shallow. 'I fear... this is the end...,'" he said, dropping his voice low to play the character.

"No," you whispered, your voice filled with genuine emotion. "It can’t be the end."

The rest of the group was watching in silence, completely wrapped up in the drama unfolding between your character and Eddie’s. Even Dustin, who usually cracked jokes during the game, was unusually quiet.

"I want to... try to heal him," you said, almost hesitant.

Eddie’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t sure if it was the game or if it was you, sitting right there, your eyes locked with his. For a moment, it felt like everything else fell away.

"Roll for it," Eddie said, trying to keep his voice steady.

The dice clattered across the table. It was a high roll—just enough to succeed.

Eddie cleared his throat, slipping back into character. "Sir Andor looks at you, his eyes softening. 'You... you saved me,' he says, his voice filled with gratitude. He reaches out and touches your hand."

The room was thick with tension, everyone waiting for what would happen next. Your character had saved him, but the moment felt bigger than the game.

Dustin, sensing something in the air, leaned forward with a mischievous grin and whispered, "Now kiss her."

The table erupted in laughter, breaking the tension. But Eddie, instead of laughing it off, looked at you. He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away. His heart was racing, and the playful comment had hit a little too close to home.

You looked back at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Well, Sir Andor?" you teased, breaking the silence.

Eddie chuckled, but there was something different in his laugh now—something real. "I think Sir Andor... owes you more than just a kiss."

The rest of the game played out smoothly, but the dynamic between you and Eddie had changed. What had started as a game had turned into something far more personal. By the end of the night, as the other players packed up their things and said their goodbyes, you lingered behind, waiting for Eddie.

"I had fun tonight," you said softly, your voice carrying more meaning than just the game.

"Yeah? Even though you got thrown into the deep end?" Eddie asked, trying to sound casual, but his nerves were betraying him.

You shrugged. "I think I did alright. Plus, I had a good teacher."

Eddie smiled, but there was a vulnerability in his eyes now. He wasn’t sure if it was the game, the way you’d thrown yourself into the character, or the fact that you’d stayed after everyone else had left—but something had shifted. He wasn’t just crushing on you from a distance anymore. There was a real connection here, something deeper.

"I, uh..." Eddie started, his voice faltering. He wasn’t sure how to say what was on his mind, so he just blurted it out. "I’ve kinda liked you for a while, you know."

Your eyes widened slightly, but instead of pulling away, you stepped closer to him. "I know," you said quietly.

Eddie blinked, surprised. "You do?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I’ve noticed. And... I kinda like you too."

Eddie’s heart skipped a beat, the world around him fading into the background. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t used to feeling this vulnerable, this exposed. But at the same time, it felt right.

"I, uh... I don’t know how to do this," Eddie admitted, his voice softer now. "I’m not exactly the guy who gets the girl, you know?"

You reached out and took his hand, your touch grounding him. "You don’t have to be perfect, Eddie. I don’t want perfect. I just want someone who sees me, who’s willing to stick around even when things get messy."

Eddie looked at you, his heart swelling with something he hadn’t felt in a long time—hope. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said, stepping even closer. "I want someone who can love the parts of me that aren’t always easy."

Eddie swallowed hard, his eyes searching yours. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was like you were speaking the words he’d always longed to hear but had never dared to hope for.

For a moment, there was nothing but the two of you, standing there in the dimly lit room, the echoes of your words hanging in the air. And then, without thinking, Eddie leaned in and kissed you—not in the way Sir Andor would have kissed your character in the game, but in a way that was real and raw, like it was the first time he’d ever truly let himself feel this way.

When he pulled back, his heart was pounding, and he could barely catch his breath. "So... does this mean you’re coming back to Hellfire next week?" he asked with a teasing grin.

You laughed softly, still holding his hand. "Yeah. I think I’ll stick around."

And just like that, everything changed for Eddie Munson.

[solar4seekstron]

(Requested) TFOne!Sentinel x Model!GN!Cogged!Cybertronian!Reader Oneshot: I Wasn’t Offering Part 1

Part 2

TW/Tags: possessiveness, forced relationship, trapped, cogged!reader, scary Sentinel.

You were a model. Performing for many higher ups and showing off new paint jobs and polish. Posing for the media and data pad magazines.

This was something you did in order to make enough to get more energon and treats for the miners who work tirelessly for the city. Always bringing them plenty of energon and treats that they worked for.

You were good pals and on good terms mostly with the miners Elita, Orion, and D-16, who you saw every day after a day of work. One day.

On a very special night you were modeling for a live singers even of Iacon and were to pose as one of the primes. You being Prima. After the show you were still covered in gold Cybertronian jewelry and the paint of gold and white on your frame.

As well as the face make up.

You honestly loved the look. You wont lie. As you made it to your dressing room with a few others. You manager was the one to tell you you had a special visitor. And so as you made your way.

You realized you were headed to a room for VIPs who speak to the singers and dancers.

A place to hang out. You though the singer wanted to speak with you or something.

But as you made your way too the room and opened the door. You saw that it was just Sentinel there. He was laid back against the sofa as the room played soft music.

His arms placed on the top of the sofa as his cervos hang. His legs spread as he sat there without a care. At this point you had the make up of but the jewelery was still on. The singer letting you and the other models keep them as a gift.

You walked in as he then noticed you. Not sitting up but his usual smile to the city soon appearing. “Ah Y/N! The Model of Iacon! Glad to finally meet you sweetspark.”

You chuckled a bit at his words once he said “sweetspark”.

You’d stand there putting your cervos behind your back as you looked at him. “Is there something you needed Sentinel Prime?” Your voice was soft.

”Ah just Sentinel is fine babe. Now why don’t you take a seat.” He gestured to the seat next to him. But you pretended to not notice. Turning your head soon and sitting in the sofa across from him. He lost his smile for a moment and his eyes narrowed.

But it wasn’t like that before he went back to smiling. He’d then stand up and walk over to you. “You know I’ve always enjoyed your work as a model. Seeing that you’re always so well fit and such.” He chuckled.

You did the same. Flattered by his compliments as your cervos rest on your lap, as he stands before you. His cervo then gently holds your chin. “That jewelry is a cheap…..”

His helm then leaned down closer to yours as he examined them then look back at you optics to optics.

”Let me get you better ones.” You only stared at him. Uncertainty in your optics as the cervo once holding your chin then moved to the neck less laying against your chest. Gently rubbing it between his digits. “Tell me.”

His voice was low as he spoke. The same cervo moving down before holding your waist.

”How would you like to be more in the city of Iacon.”

His cervo gently pulls you a bit closer to your frame. “And be seen by my side.”

He whispered into your audio sensors. You froze for a moment. You had many other higher up femmes and mechs. Bigger and smaller then you give you the offer but that wouldn’t always land long and would go to the next hot topic in the city.

You gently set your cervos against his chest. He looked a bit confused for a moment before you spoke.

“Sorry..Sentinel. But.” You stood up creating some distance between you two. As you spoke.

”I made a promise to myself when gaining my ‘populatiry’ I would only do it to help those who want to do better on my people and the miners who work hard for us everyday. And I wont just ‘join’ anyone who just wishes to use me for status and looks like some eye candy.”

As you spoke his optics were narrow and he only sighed and took a step. He then let out a deep chuckle. “Goodness no my dear. I have no intentions of keeping you only for a few days or anything….”

His frame almost touches yours. His optics narrowed as you stared up at him.

”When I say I’ve been watching you…I mean.” Both of his cervos gently grab your waist keeping you still. “I want a model of Iacon to be…mine.” He said in an almost sinister way.

“I have seen you. Been watching you. Always taking care of my miners everyday after you work. And not to mention how hard you try to stay the way you look. I’ll admit I have a crush on you. And so.”

He then sat down pulling you onto his lap. Only sitting on one of his thighs as he then picks up an energon drink that was on the table. Your cervos on his shoulder and chest as he took a sip of his drink. Then looked back at you. “Why don’t you be a good bot and accept my offer hm?

You can live like a true ruler on my side. And continue to help your mining friends…”

You stay quiet for a moment before speaking. “And if I refuse?”

He said in a low voice once more. You only looked at him unsure. He can tell and brought your leg up moving it around his waist as he stared at you. Now fully on his lap as his cervos remain on your aft. Your cervos still in place.

”I’m afraid what I said wasn’t a request.” He said in a threatening way. His cervos grip tightens as he rests a kiss on your chest after leaning forward.

You were frozen.

Even as you lightly push against his shoulder and chest it get up. His grip only got more tighter and tighter. “I wouldn’t try it. You see sweetsaprk when I want something I expect it to be mine in less then a second. So….be a good bot….will you?” His optics looking up at you. Almost narrowed.

You knew he was threatening up. In his own way. You could only stare down at him. Did you really have a choice now? You were…shaking..Just by the look of his optics you know he’s mad.

”Shh shh shh sweetspark no need to be scared..” One of his cervos move from your aft to the tip on your thigh. Gently squeezing.

”You just have to say yes…and…Non of your mining friends have to get hurt….” You two stay still for a moment. You looked down thinking. Your cervos moving to your own lap as you grow unsure. Against your better judgment….You agreed…

The image of those miners like Elita, D, and Orion coming to mind. You’d slowly nod. Still looking down.

”Look at me.” He spoke. And so you looked at him. Your optics sad and his cervos don’t move. His optics narrow still. “Now my partner isnt sad…You always have a smile when you’re with me and….by my side.”

He places another kiss on your shoulder and the side of your neck a few times. “Now be good for me and open that chest plate of yours..”

You held in your tears. How did things move so fast for you? Slowly your chest plate opened showing your spark. He’d then open his. His cervo once on your thigh moving to your upper back. gently pressing your chest against his. You then felt a rush. Your spark connecting with his.

He’d then press his dermas against yours. The kiss was hungry and yeet still full of….love?…. You didn’t return the kiss. But he didn’t seem to care.

The kiss continued. All you can hear is the soft music and the kisses he exchanged against your dermas. Keeping your frame against his as he continued. The spark bond was completed and he leaned back with a sigh. Glad to finally have what he’s been craving for so long.

He’d then resume, kissing your neck and chest. Ignoring the jewelry as his cervos explore your frame. Your own on his shoulders. Trying to not let out a few soft moans as he assaults your frame.

He’d then pause looking at you with his optics full of lust.

“Such a good Conjunx. You're going to make everyone…and Me very, very…Happy.”

This one I was pretty excited to write about and I swear all I can hear his voice in my head when write him lmao. The writer I wasn’t fully sure what to do with at first ‘cause I don’t know if models even exist in Cybertron. But hey I hope you all enjoy non the less and hope you all have a good rest of your day.

As always, a repost is appreciated.

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1472

Chapter 42:

The boy was gone, having gotten what he wanted from the road, and now he was free. The lights above you flickered again, few remaining alive; a sign that your time was almost up.

Agatha looked at the place where Billy was as she leaned back, thinking of his question. "No, Billy. Sometimes... boys die."

You parted your lips but remained silent, feeling that those words were not just directed at Billy but also to herself.

Pieces fell into place in your mind, now a clear picture formed that filed the blanks you had.... that answered almost all of your questions.

"Is this you forgiving Rio for taking Little Nicky?" You dared to ask, your voice soft and empathic.

Agatha finally looked at you, surprised by your deduction. You were good with those things, but she did not remember you being that good.

"How did you find out?" She asked.

You offered her a weak smile, the topic as sensitive to you as it was to hers. Perhaps little more, considering this was a talk about the relationship Agatha developed with Rio... who might had become your replacement if things had turned out differently.

"I did keep wondering what Rio had done to you, to cause such rift... unexplained rift that didn't fully justify your feelings for one another."

Immediately, Agatha felt guilty.

"Sugar -" You did not let her finish.

"It's okay, Ags," you gave her a pained smile. "I mean, Nicky did look a lot like Rio while growing up... and I have come to peace with it. When I left you... I never made anything clear, and it would be wrong of me to expect something from you." You took a deep breath. "Considering who Rio is, it finally clicked that it was his passing that divided you."

Agatha did not comment, unsure what to say. She could thank you for your understanding and passive forgiveness. She could try to justify Rio and Nicky... but she realized it would change nothing.

Things had been set on stone, and they could not be changed. What could be changed, though, was your chance to get out of this road and return to your free solitary life... to finally be free from the curse thar seemed to follow Agatha and was affecting you.

"Okay, sugar. It's time for you to get what you want from the road and get out of here, " she said, changing the topic as she pushed some of her hair above her shoulder.

"But I have already gotten what I want," you explained, shocking her for the second time. She watched you move to sit right in front of her, taking her hand and holding it with both of yours. "What I wanted was for a chance to join you, Agatha. To truly help you find what you are looking for, not to watch you go alone while I stay back; never to join you. "

Agatha was once again speechless at your sweet confessions, at your unyielding loyalty to her. Even after all those centuries, even after all those times she walked away; you remained.

You did not lose faith in her. You didn't stop caring and worrying for her.

You never stopped regretting every time you turned down Agatha and lost the chance to join her.

She didn't know that, and in that moment of revelation, a single tear escaped her left eye.

You moved one hand to wipe it away gently before it could roll down her cheek, and you offered her a sweet, comforting smile; beaming with light and love, unmatched by anything else... except for the look Nicky would give her when he was alive.

"I told you. I am with you until the end." You reminded her and squeezed her hand in reassurance.

Agatha used her free hand hand and cupped your cheek, every move done with outmost care; as if you would break into thousands of pieces with a wrong move.

"This might be the end, sugar." She admitted, slowly accepting the fact that she was not going to survive the road the second time.

"Then I will be happy to know I made it so far with you. If it means dying, I don't mind as long as I am in your arms. "

Agatha was the first to pull you into a hug this time, her arms wrapping tightly around you; passively seeking comfort and also trying to get control of her emotions... of her mind and her heart.

You returned the action without hesitation, squeezing her in your arms with all your might; as if she would disappear into thin air if you dared to let her go.

You buried your neck into her thick curls, eyes closed as you fought back tears; both getting emotional over the confession while accepting more and more that this could be the end... for both of you.

Another flickering light above you reminded you of the time that was left, but it was not your concern anymore.

Slowly, you pulled back but kept your hands interlocked; never letting the other truly go

Agatha looked at you with care, and she chose to open up one last time. "You know... I am not ready to confront him yet." She confessed.

"Little Nicky?"

She nodded. "I... he was not meant to be born, Y/N... Rio gave us time, and I paid her back with the bodies of other witches I drained... and it all worked fine for 6 years, until the night... the night he asked me not to go after the witches... the night Rio had to take him back."

You squeezed her hands, seeing how misty her eyes were becoming as she relieved those dark memories that overshadowed the good ones she had with him.

And you could see it because you knew it was what Agatha did in such situations. Dark moments were the only things she truly remembered, letting them consume her heart and make her forget the good ones that existed at the same time.

So, you chose to change that.

"He was a brave boy, Agatha," you started, making her focus on you. "I can still remember how mesmerised he was, when we told him we survived the Road... and how proud he was of that... of us..." Agatha let out a mix of weak chuckle and sob while your heart ached with each beat as you remembered the sweet and innocent face of the boy you had come to love as your own. "And I remember how persistent he was to learn of the Ballad, wanting to go down that Road as well... and when we told him no, he just made up his own Ballad... and each time you would visit, you two would have finished another part of it. "

Agatha sniffed, and you swallowed a lump down your throat, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes; threatening to escape and roll down your cheek.

Your breathing was difficult as you tried to keep down the sobs, the memories happy but also painful; a reminder of a brighter time in your life, a time that would never be able to be replaced.

"I remember," Agatha said weakly with a faint smile, your retelling reminding her of the sweet moments you were talking about.

"I don't think he will ever judge you, Ags. He loved you too much," you reassured her.

With shaking hands, Agatna pulled away from your grip and went to unclip her amulet; Evanora's brooch with the triple Goddess, a steady item of her wardrobe.

She slowly opened it, and from inside, she gently held a short patch of hair; neatly tucked inside for safekeeping.

"I have kept it with me all this time... to never forget him, " Agatha confessed and placed the hair close to her heart, wishing deeply that she could feel and hear Nicholas' heart beat one last time.

You could only watch as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, the moment too precious and heavy to be interrupted. This was a deep point in your relationship and even deeper in Agatha's trauma with the loss of her son.

Agatha, with teary eyes, was about to put the lock back into the brooch when she noticed something... something that she swore was never there before.

She placed the hair back and took out what seemed to be a dried up seed/petal of a dandelion. So weak, small and tiny... unable to ever grow.

As your eyes landed on it, sowmthing clicked inside your mind; just as the lights flickered, and now you were left with only one.

"Agatha, the dandelion!" You exclaimed. "That's the key to this trial!"

[levandright]

WHAT THE HEART WANTS ★ K.SN & Y.JW | TEASER

synopsis. you love your best friend, kim sunoo. but scared of confessing and possibly losing your precious friendship, you'd rather let these feelings left unsaid and buried in your heart. so, what do you do if a popular underclassman confesses to you on valentine's day?

pairings : bsf! sunoo x f!reader, jungwon x f!reader ♦ content / warning(s) : unrequited love, yn is scared to confess, yn has a hard time choosing, fluff, jungwon is a sweetheart ♦ est word count : 4-6k ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : hopefully i can post the first part in a week or two, this is based a lot from my experiences but happier(bcs of the poll) i estimate there will be 3 parts in total for this because of reasons i cannot spoil for now ^-^

of all the secrets you hold close, the feelings you have for sunoo are by far the heaviest. they live in the quiet spaces between you: in every smile he gives you, in every joke you share, in the warmth of every comforting hug, and in the countless secrets you’ve entrusted to each other. he knows so much about you, maybe even more than anyone else. but there’s one truth you’ve never told him, one that sits like a stone in your heart, heavier than all the others.

truth is, sunoo is more than just a friend. somewhere along the way, he became your safe place, your first call in moments of joy and the one person you seek in times of pain. he’s become the one person you feel you can tell anything to—anything, that is except how much he truly means to you. and no matter how many times you imagine confessing, a familiar fear always rises up, wrapping around you like creeping vines: what if he doesn’t feel the same? what if telling him shatters this beautiful, fragile bond you share?

so you make a decision. you decide not to tell him. instead, you resolve to stay silent, to hide your feelings and let them fade on their own, like colors slowly washing out in the sun. you tell yourself that it’s better this way, better to preserve the friendship you cherish than risk losing him altogether.

it’s harder than you imagined. every day with him feels like a test of your willpower, a delicate dance of pushing down what your heart keeps trying to whisper. you start training yourself to see him as just a friend, catching yourself whenever your thoughts drift too far. when he laughs at one of his own jokes, that contagious laugh lighting up his face, you remind yourself that he’s just sunoo, your best friend. when he smiles that bright, heart-stopping smile of his, you train yourself to look away, to ground yourself in the friendship you already have.

there are moments when the urge to reach out and just say everything rises up so suddenly it almost takes your breath away. but each time, you swallow it back, promising yourself that this silence is worth it, that keeping the friendship untouched by unspoken confessions is worth the cost of unexpressed love.

days turn into weeks, and then into months. slowly, it gets a little easier. you start focusing on other things—leaning into hobbies you’d neglected, spending more time with other friends, and setting new goals for yourself. the ache in your heart begins to dull, like a bruise fading with time. you find yourself thinking less about every text he sends, letting go of the habit of analyzing every word, every emoji. the butterflies that once took flight at the smallest hint of his affection start to quiet down, becoming memories of something you’re learning to let go of.

then one day, it happens. the two of you are sitting together, laughing over some ridiculous story he’s telling, and you realize with a sudden, quiet clarity that you’re no longer waiting for something to happen between you. the pang you used to feel when you looked at him—that longing for something more—feels almost absent, replaced by something softer, more comfortable. and just like that, you understand: maybe, just maybe, you’re finally moving on.

the realization fills you with a bittersweet sense of relief. there’s freedom in it, a lightness that settles over you as you realize you can finally be by his side as just a friend, without the constant weight of unspoken feelings pressing down on you. you’re proud of yourself, too. proud of the strength it took to let go of what could never be, to find peace in what you already have instead of yearning for something more.

as days pass, you find yourself enjoying this new stage in your friendship. without the burden of your secret feelings, every moment you spend together feels lighter, easier. you laugh freely, knowing there’s no longer an unspoken confession lurking in the back of your mind. the quiet ache that once colored every shared joke, every smile, is gone—or at least, you tell yourself it is.

and sunoo notices the change, too. one day, as you’re both walking home after a long day, he glances at you, a smile tugging at his lips.

“you seem… different lately,” he says, his voice soft but laced with curiosity.

you smile back, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight blush on your cheeks. “different? how?”

he tilts his head, squinting at you thoughtfully. “i don’t know. happier, i guess? like something’s changed.”

you laugh, brushing it off with a casual shrug. “maybe i just finally figured some things out.”

and it’s true. you feel lighter now, free from the weight of what-ifs and unspoken desires. for so long, you had convinced yourself that sunoo was the only one who could fill that place in your heart, that loving him was something you had no control over. but now, you understand that love doesn’t always need to be confessed, that sometimes, the strongest kind of love is the one that allows you to let go, to find happiness in simply being close.

yet, even as you convince yourself that you’ve moved on, there are quiet moments that betray you. sometimes, when he throws his arm around you casually, or when he looks at you in that way that’s both familiar and fond, you feel a faint flutter, like an old feeling waiting to resurface. it’s a quiet, buried warmth, something you’re not sure you’ll ever truly get rid of. but you keep it hidden, folded away in a place you don’t have to look at too often. you’ve buried it well, but it’s still there, waiting.

for now, you’re content to keep that love hidden, unspoken and safe. you tell yourself it’s okay. the soft warmth in your chest isn’t a burden anymore—it’s just a part of you, a gentle reminder of a love that didn’t have to be spoken to be real. you’re happy by his side, as his friend, sharing laughter and secrets and every small, precious moment in between.

so you continue on, content in the simple joys of being sunoo’s friend. and if that buried love still lingers in the quiet, unguarded moments, well, that’s something you’ve learned to live with. it’s enough, you tell yourself.

perm taglist.@honeybelleee @honeychocos @manaah02 @kozumesphone (open!)

requests. open!

©levandright

[vanya-evergreen]

𝑆𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘！

Hi, just wanted to give a little quick sneak peek on my Royal! reader X Batfamily fic, because I realized it's been a while since I've posted any writing stuff and I wanna make sure people will stay interested! it's sort of a retelling of the concept, but there's going to be new things added in and longer

You can read concept here.

𝐼𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝐹𝑙𝑒𝑠ℎ

taglist! - @camilo-uwu @vanilliona @thegirlinrainbowsworld

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑖𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑙𝑒－

𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 1 （𝑆𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘 ）

The world had decided long ago that nothing goes without effect, good, bad, and indifferent. Every action and every motion will have an equal effect. This is the philosophy that was shoved down your throat since you could understand it. So why did you have such a big Effect?

The taps of rain on the roof was the loudest sound in the room. Sitting Idlily on the edge of the bed, your eyes stayed glued to the fire flickering in front of you. The brilliant light reflects in your eyes as it dances freely, but the fire is not the real point of your focus, no you are too lost in your mental prison. You force yourself to relive the memories and feelings, just to occupy your time. Your eyes can’t help but drift to the newspapers chaotically scattered across the floors; “Tyranny’s Last Remnant’ is what the newspapers had dubbed you.

The media had spent the months since your family’s imprisonment to tear you down ruthlessly. They say that you still lead a life of luxury and opulence because you weren’t punished like the rest of your family. Your eyes snap back to the fire, letting go of the breath stuck in your throat. you fall limply back onto the bed, as it creaks. The room around you was not a good reflection on in light of the accusation against you but you had no control of the room.

You wanted to hate the new place that you are meant to call home, but you couldn't even utter a complaint about it. You let these thoughts drift to the back of your mind. They weren’t nearly as loud as your memories.

You are stuck in a never ending cycle of self reflection that comes with your predicament. Maybe if your were more honest maybe you could see that you put yourself there. Everything you around is nothing but static. Your hands desperately grasp for the sheets of the bed, you no longer can feel them. Your mind races as your breathes grow shallow and slow. A sinking feeling takes over your body as your consciousness fades. You are sent off in your memories as the rain and fire grow into nothing but a quiet whisper.

When you come back to awareness, you no longer feel sheets of silk covering a plush mattress on your back, nor are you surrounded by the high walls of your room. Rather rounded stones of a river banks press in to your back as steady streams of spring water wash over you. When you open your eyes, you find that the water is not clear but rather unearthly cosmic colors whirling around as they rush over you and the stones are not a soothing gray but a chilling black, with your skies and ground bleeding into each other making them one in the same.

An empty laugh escapes your lips echoing in the empty space you always find yourself in, you want to feel something more but you felt too tired. All you can do is recall, back to the times when if you had even barely uttered of a complain it was dealt before you could even think again. You were pacified with gifts, territories, and new subjects to learn about. This was expected with being a royal, as your family had put it. They had found solace from their so-called stressful lives among material possessions, and it seemed as you would have to as well. You were always grateful for the lessons and gifts, but never once had they actually filled your deepest desire. Your deepest craving,

unconditional familial love. You yearned for it, yet it never came

You are ripped from your thoughts as a coldness washes over you. no longer surrounded by streams of spring water running over your almost lifeless body, you feel specs of snow and hell slowly beginning to cover you consuming you and your entirety as you fall deeper into the memory.

Echos of muffled hiccups and sniffles bounced off of the empty sumptuous palace halls. A child held they hands over their mouth, a weak attempt to silence their cries as they balled themselves up in the corner. They looked no older than 5, yet the way their face felt like they had seen the worst atrocities in this world could make you think other wise. You recognized the eyes without fail, it was you. You recognize this day, too. This horrid day.

Bells tolled in the distance startling you out of your ‘daydream’, not that they were in your mind to begin with. You didn’t move from your corner, you never wanted to move again. Your sobs becomes quieter as your tears dried, the bells continued on as servants rushed back and forth past you. They never once looked your way, as you lifted your eyes from your knees. They all looked panicked about something. Talking in quick whispers, they mumbled about ‘must find’ and an ‘heir’. You kept quiet as about a dozen more passed you, not even sparring a glance to you.

Eventually you got bored of the Methodic foot steps of the passer-by, you rested your head against the windows as the whispers and foot steps become distant as the bells finish their final course of rings. Back then, you thought it was funny how the bells still rang even well after the turn of the hour. Normally it was saved for the founders day and the rulers birthday; now you wish you had ran back then.

You had settled back into your abyss of deafening silence; staring out the window with distant eyes as the snow waltzed down from the cloudy skies above, but a looming figure watched you from a distance. You had become a perspective child, you felt their eyes on you when they first started staring. You didn’t want to pay any mind to that, ‘maybe they will go away if I don’t look for them’ is what you thought. The figure never looked away, the presence of the stare only grew more intensely focused on your unmoved figure.

You hadn’t move to look at the figure, you were lost in your thoughts, but the burning sensation intensified in your chest and began to crawl in to your hand and up your throat you knew they had drew closer to you. You whipped your head around to the figure, finally giving to what you thought the they wanted.

“Hello” the figure, now more clearly a man, softly said to you, as he kneeled down to your eyes level with a soft smile etched on to his face with warm gaze that accompanied it.

You were taken back by the man’s soft demeanor, the burning in your body had disappear the moment you saw his eyes. “Hi…” you stumble over your words as you were still to focused on how warmth from his gaze felt so unfamiliar yet, you had never wanted something to continue more.

“I am Bruce Wayne.” He offer out a hand to you, and you to reached out to take it but stopped yourself from taking it. Oh, You remembered that name from a list your parents had educated you on. His eyebrow creased and his smile fell as you retracted your hand.“Are you okay?”

Your parents said that with him especially to be more mindful of your actions because he was very important to your family, they warned you of the effect you may have. You always abided by the philosophy your were taught. “Yes” you hurriedly standing up and greeted him with a shallow bow, try your best not to trip over your feet. “Excuse me for my response,” you held an even voice as you rose up from the bow, keeping a straight back. “I am _ __, it is my pleasure to meet you, Sir Bruce” He was richer then your family and held no official titles, the King and Queen had offered him a dukedom when his company had helped the empire through a drought, but he turned it down.

“It is a pleasure to meet you as well, your highness.” His smile returned quickly after you exchanged greetings. You gave him a look when he said ‘Your Highness’.

“I am sorry Sir Bruce, but I think you have addressed me wrong. I am not a child of a current or pervious monarch.” You politely corrected him. He looked put off by the correction, you hurried to correct your act “what I meant was-” you were stopped short by him

“No, it’s okay. It was my mistake.” He seemed to relax as he watched you stumble over your word like any five year old child should. “I seem to have confused honorifics once again," He laughs "I hope that you excuse me I am still new to society.” You couldn’t help but feel a small flames of kinship burn in your heart as he spoke.

“I am too!” You blurted, eyes glistened with a hint of excitement. “Today is my first official day in society, or that's what my mom said.”

“Oh really?” Bruce tilled his head, rubbing his chin as if he wasn’t aware of it “Why today?”

“I don’t know,” you voice became hushed. You hadn’t stopped to think about it for long, you were just a kid excited to see new people.

“Perhaps, we can figure it out together.” Bruce stood up and offered his hand to you once again. You stared at his hand, something in your little mind started to itch. You took his hand with out hesitation this time.

“I would like that.” You gave him a small smile as he lead you down the hall.

You and Bruce spent the better part of an hour talking about many things as you roam the cold palace grounds. You hadn’t even noticed the larger amount of guards pacing the halls looking for something, while they mutter about being punished for ‘losing someone’. You were too distracted by the feeling your heart and head screamed for you to focus solely on Bruce. You weren’t sure what it was then, but you never wanted to let it go.

He seemed impressed by your knowledge, you could see glints of fascination in his eyes, as it absorbed his mind. You were a well educated child, even at this age, as it seemed. He indulged you with many different topics, from the basics of favorite color and animal to astronomy, science and literature. It was bliss for you.

But it would end for you.

“What about your family?” Bruce’s question was innocent enough, any reasonable adult would ask about your family. “Are they looking for you?”